"Hm. If it makes you feel any better," the Willguard said calmly, "you lasted longer than I expected."
Some distance away, the Willguard approached with unhurried steps, golden armor gleaming beneath the blinding sun.
He might have looked like a warrior from the heavens, if not for the abyss black eyes and the oppressive aura surrounding him.
He stopped before Magnus and looked down at him.
"I was instructed to make your death painful. I've devoted my life to cleansing this world of the filth that infests it."
He slowly raised his sword, the blade catching the light.
Magnus felt every gaze on him. He saw his grandson trembling, eyes locked intensely on the scene.
But Magnus exhaled heavily and turned his gaze to the bright sky, his expression empty.
"Your only sin," the Willguard continued, "was being associated with that filth."
The blade came down, and blood splattered across the ruined ground. The Willguard's eyes narrowed.
