Pitiful

Alex remained standing where he was, letting his posture relax yet even with that he still radiated a cold, lethal energy.

He stared down at Threshal's head, which now rested on the ground, almost poetically facing his own headless body with wide, confused eyes.

"Pitiful."

Alex murmured, practically devoid of any emotion.

Around him, the Red Demons were frozen, eyes locked onto their fallen leader with disbelief, horror, confusion, and any other possible emotion that their race could feel.

For a moment, the only sound that rang out after Alex spoke was the faint crackling of the campfires nearby, and the soft rustle of the wind through the ruined buildings.

Then, like a dam breaking, they erupted into chaos.

Shouts of fury and confusion rose up from every corner as the Red Demons surged forward, expressions twisted in rage.