Morality and Feebleness
Alexander lay on the cold, hard ground in front of me, his once-mighty body now broken and battered. Blood seeped from the numerous wounds on his body, each one a testament to the fierce battle we had just fought. My army stood around us in a circle, silent witnesses to the scene unfolding before them.
With a deep breath, I reached for my sword, the metal cold and unforgiving in my grip. Alexander's eyes met mine, and he smiled, a bitter smile that only served to stoke the fire of my anger.
I advanced towards him, my sword glinting in the sunlight. The smile remained on his face, unchanging, as though he knew something I did not. With a swift motion, I placed the edge of my sword beneath his chin, the sharp tip grazing the skin of his neck.
"Why are you smiling?" I growled, the anger in my voice barely contained.
Alexander's smile widened, his eyes locking onto mine. "I am smiling at your future," he said, his voice barely a whisper.