"W-Wait!"
I paid no heed to his pleas, thrusting the sword downward without hesitation, but before I could strike, my arm was seized, halting my movement.
I looked up and met Toran's gaze.
"Could you please stop this?" Toran asked with a smile.
"I could," I replied, not bothering to mask the cold edge in my voice, "but I don't want to."
With deliberate slowness, I pressed the sword further down, the blade inching closer to its intended target. The Elf beneath my foot struggled desperately, like a trapped insect, his pale face contorted in fear.
"Hiii!" He let out a pitiful whimper, his body thrashing in vain, but my foot held him firmly in place, preventing any chance of escape.
Toran's smile faded, replaced by a frown as he realized that despite his grip on my arm, I was still pushing the blade downward. He wasn't just concerned for the Elf's life—I could sense that he was also worried about the potential consequences if this escalated.
