"What do I want? Do you still not understand?"
The young voice emanated from behind Sorovo, the warm breath tickling the edges of his ears.
Sorovo's body stiffened, feeling a cold, sharp object slowly penetrating his flesh.
"You shouldn't have drunk that ale," Red Eye chuckled, a sound that seemed mocking yet was mostly a sneer.
"Did you think you were fast enough that I wouldn't have time to prepare? Did you think by not telling anyone, I wouldn't know what you're planning? Let me tell you, in this play, you're not the protagonist at all!"
The icy blade moved within Sorovo's body, the wound expanding bit by bit as the blade severed blood vessels, muscles, and organs.
Blood flowed from the wound as if it cost nothing, Sorovo's breathing became rapid, muscles twitching from the loss of blood, lack of oxygen, and pain.
"You just said wounds without mana mean nothing to a magus? What about now, can you still speak, oh arrogant one!"
