"He's not worth drawing your weapons," Alvion said to the frustrated crowd as he slipped both knives back under his robe. He then looked at Adyr's terrified expression, as if the man might lose control and wet himself, and added, "Go back to where you came from. Don't ever call yourself a fighter again. If I hear it once more, I'll kill you."
"Thank you, Priest. I will never… Thank you…" Adyr stammered, his voice trembling with relief as he bowed his head repeatedly, thanking him over and over for sparing his life.
He looked so grateful that he nearly fell to his knees to worship the merciful priest, which only made the spectators more disgusted. Some even looked like they were about to vomit.
But unlike the pitiful act the crowd saw, there was not a trace of shame or fear inside Adyr. Instead, he was feeling the satisfaction of success. He had achieved exactly what he intended, confirmed by the system message flashing before his eyes.
