Pursuit (3)
"Please….No….."
The young man stood over the bodies, his cold black eyes staring down at the pleading soldier. The moonlight filtered through the dense canopy above, casting eerie shadows across the blood-soaked ground. The forest was silent, the earlier chaos of battle now reduced to the hushed whispers of the wind.
Lucavion's expression remained impassive, unreadable, as he gazed at the soldier lying before him. The man was wounded, his armor dented and bloodied, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Fear and desperation were etched on his face, his hands trembling as he reached out in a futile plea for mercy.
"….."
Lucavion's grip tightened around the hilt of his estoc. The blade, still glowing faintly with residual starlight, seemed to absorb the light around it, making the darkness even more profound. His gaze was unwavering, cold, and devoid of empathy as he looked down at the soldier who was begging for forgiveness and mercy.