Ackster successfully broke through Hansel's spear and sank his fist into the latter's ribcage, not far from the heart. Unfortunately, the sturdiness of Hansel's ribcage and leather armor could compete with his spear, at least when it came to tanking blows. So, while Ackster's puch was definitely debilitating and broke Hansel's ribs hard enough to puncture a lung, it wasn't lethal.
Hansel stared at the fist lodged in his chest with offense. It was like he couldn't believe Ackster had really been rude enough to sucker-punch him hard enough to sink his fist into his chest.
"Heh."
Ackster let out a cold laugh as he pulled out his hand and shook it free of Hansel's blood.
Hansel dropped his spear pieces and clasped the wound since he could feel and see his heart pumping the blood out of the wound. The blood streamed out in pulses from the fist-shaped indentation in his chest. More blood trickled out and pushed apart the tiny wounds and torsions in Hansel's skin, gradually worsening the injury.
It wasn't enough to kill Hansel, at least not at once, but it was enough to put him out of commission, despite his experience as a veteran adventurer. There simply wasn't much he could do. He didn't even have his potions since they got in the way while he executed some of his flashier moves. And he hadn't thought he would need any when he and his crew were in an area where the average rank of adventurers was far enough below them that they didn't need to worry.
But here he was, on his knees and incapable of resisting. He could only look up at Ackster and wonder why he hadn't finished him off yet.
In contrast, Ackster wasn't even looking at him.
Ackster was looking behind Hansel into the tiny forest in the direction they had come from. His gaze pierced between the trees and locked onto the expanding golden-yellow light that softly spread through the grove like a second sunrise.
When he saw the yellow light in Ackster's eyes, Hansel also turned around, despite his injury. He glanced at Ackster and confirmed that he was still taken by the radiant light. Without making a sound, Hansel knelt down deeper and lay on the ground. He pretended to be dead, hoping Ackster would forget about him.
Ackster snapped out of the daze that the combination of the brilliant light and winning against Hansel had put him in. The adrenaline was fading from his veins now that the fight was over, and he was no longer driven by an urge, powered by his survival instincts in the heat of battle, to kill Hansel.
Rationally, Ackster knew that he should kill Hansel to get rid of a dangerous enemy and root out any possible future trouble. Hansel also knew a lot about his fighting style, and though basic, Ackster wanted as little information spread about him as possible. He stood nothing to gain from sparing him but everything by putting him out of his misery.
But, on the other hand, Hansel was human. He wasn't the nicest, but neither was Ackster. There was an intelligent and like-minded light in his eyes. Ackster could theoretically reason and communicate with Hansel. It was just that their current predicament and the circumstances that led up to it hadn't fostered a benign relationship.
Most importantly, Ackster worried about the guilt that would assuage him later if he did kill Hansel. He had heard and read about people—murderers—who couldn't sleep a blink without seeing the faces of their victims in their dreams.
Rest and so on was an integral part of Ackster's growth. If it were incomplete or lacking, he could potentially lose out or fall behind.
Ackster couldn't come to a decision, so he decided to put it on hold while he dealt with something infinitely more pressing. Karandiel. He could take all the time he needed to ponder on the moral dilemma of killing another human after he had secured one of the things that would help him put a stop to the end of the world.
"You should stop breathing if you're going to pretend to be dead, idiot."
Ackster bent down and grabbed the half of the spear with the bladed tip.
Hansel opened his eyes and started trying to crawl away in a panic. Since Ackster picked up the spear, there was only one thing he could be aiming to do. Hansel didn't even bother trying to plead for his life. He knew better than anyone that it rarely ended up saving the one doing the pleading and only brought pleasure to the one pleaded to. Of course, the one pleaded to could also be uncaring or get their resolve strengthened by seeing their target squirming around like a stranded fish, begging for salvation.
"You're not going anywhere."
Ackster hefted the spear half in a reverse grip and knelt while stabbing it downward.
Hansel closed his eyes and winced in anticipation of his death. But the sweet release of pain and the cold embrace of eternal darkness didn't come for Hansel.
"Aaah! Fuck!"
Contrary to Hansel's expectations, Ackster didn't kill him. He just lodged the spear deep enough in his hand to make Hansel wish he had.
The flat spearhead led the way through his hand and opened up for the round shaft to pin it down to the ground. His hand almost splitting in half was painful enough to make tears bead in Hansel's eyes.
"Wuss."
Ackster hadn't quite experienced that kind of injury, but he had done worse to himself by breaking his hands and elbows against the rock lizard. And he was pretty sure the pain of practicing Nold's secret technique was worse. Even now, it thrummed with pain.
Satisfied with the pin holding Hansel in place so that he could deal with him later if necessary, Ackster left for the golden glow that was Karandiel's dome losing its power and seeping into the mortal world.
Fortunately, Hansel hadn't driven him that far away, and he quickly stumbled upon the scene of surprisingly little carnage that was the other adventurers' battlefield.