392 Old Grudge

 "Then we good."

 "Wait…" the temperature dropped; Emi's face shriveled.

 "Ay bro, come on, shoot the man!" the pistol jammed.

 "You tried," said he who got shot, "-I got my suit dirtied for naught." 

 "Yo, yo, SHOOT HIM," screamed the thug in fear as the dead man stood with bullet wounds.

 *Death Element: Hand of God, Heart Break,* the palm clenched followed by moans of pain. To their knees and on the floor, no blood, nothing, the gunmen died a painless death as he squashed their hearts.

 "W-what h-happened," asked she with a sweaty snot-filled face.

 "About the question earlier, what a commoner can do," he held out a hand, "-you were mistaken," she reached and grabbed, "-I'm not a commoner. Do forgive my lack of courtesy, I'm Staxius Haggard, King of Arda, the one who rightly owns thy life."