Hatred

Anfey had killed five opponents since the fighting began. Although every fight did not last long, Anfey had used all his strength and telepathy without holding anything back. He already felt a little tired.

Anfey hid in the forest, watching the last two mercenaries as he caught his breath. He knew he had to keep his combat power at its peak.

The elf was still screaming in anger. He looked like he was in so much pain that anyone who saw him would sincerely feel bad for him. Anfey looked calm. He neither felt bad for the elf’s pain, nor proud of what he had achieved. No emotion showed on his face.

Anfey never thought killing was enjoyable. He did not feel there was a reason to be proud that he killed anyone. He had killed many people, but he had done that either out of self-defense or as part of his job. The targets in his work had to have some reason to be killed. This was Anfey’s policy. Anfey was doing a job with high risk and high pay, but his annual income was not that great.