Still, dust continued to settle, yet Alex stood over the defeated lord, lying at his feet and catching some breaths of air. That huge figure, which was powerful and a terror in town, lay at his feet, catching his breath. The blood trickled from the wound that Alex managed to inflict upon him, staining the cobblestones beneath them. The silence that followed was thick, save for the crackling of the torches and the faraway sounds of Alex's allies securing the manor grounds.
With flashes of anger and pain, the lord fixed his gaze on Alex. "You. you think you have won?" he wheezed, strained yet defiant. "The demon king. he will come for you. all of you."
Alex stood tall over him, his sword still clutched in his hand, his face resolute, serene almost, unrelenting in resolution. "Let him," he parroted again as he had just a while back. "I am not afraid of him anymore."
