Slinging another spear of water towards a roaring human man, I watched as the liquid tip pierced his chest with ease, tearing past his surcoat and chainmail like butter.
Turning his heart to pulp, the spear skewered the man to a woman behind him, the two coughing out blood as the light slowly dimmed in their eyes.
Watching it all unfold, I enjoyed the spray of crimson droplets as the spear burst inside their chests, the mana pulverizing their other internal organs with frightening ease before dissipating, leaving them to fall to the ground, lifeless.
Laying in a pool of their own blood, the two nameless peasants of the Western Kingdom died just like that, little more than a brief afterthought for myself as I turned to the next enemy.
That was what I didn't want to be; I didn't want to be a strong persons afterthought when they killed me.
