Perhaps that Yaksha was incredibly arrogant, or maybe he thought of us as lambs to the slaughter, judging by his composed stride, even though fury raged within him.
"Great… great sir, I beg you, please spare this young brother…" The Ghost Soldier waved his hand and the few remaining pale green flashes of lightning vanished. He knelt directly before the approaching Yaksha, ceaselessly pleading for mercy on my behalf.
"Big brother, stand up! A man's knees are worth gold, it's not worth kneeling to such a person."
"I understand that, but what does it matter if I kneel to him, as long as he spares you?" The Ghost Soldier said without turning back, his voice not loud, as if muttering to himself.
The Yaksha had already walked up to our side, raising the Triple-headed Steel Trident high. It seemed it could fall at any moment to claim my life, or perhaps the Ghost Soldier's.
