Alvios went wide-eyed as the newcomer just outright disintegrated innocent bystanders without the faintest display of effort or care. He didn't know what to do. He was just a man with a sword. Fear was grasping his entire being, and instinct told him to run for his life, no matter if it was futile.

     He rejected the fear. He rejected the differences between the two. His grip tightened on his sword, and he looked directly at the man in red. His voice boiled on the edge of anger, but if he lost his cool now, more would die. He had to look past personal grudges and anger now. This was different than Shadra. "I explained what happened. I guess you wanted to explain who I am, not what I did. Fine. My name is Alvios Maeti. I'm the best swordsman in this village. I'm the one who managed to ignore that little masked girl's technique, and cut her down. If there's something more to me than that, I don't know yet. But if you're killing these bystanders out of annoyance or vengeance, let them go, and take on me instead."

     He didn't know what else to do. He shifted his stance to prepare for a fight that he knew he'd lose. If nothing else, maybe after this man had killed him, he'd leave the others alone. Maybe another miracle would happen, like with Shadra.

     Shadra. His hand moved to his wound again. It was tingling, but closed. When did it close? That gash would have kept him in bed for days with stitches. How did he heal? Alvios figured it didn't matter anymore. He didn't expect to walk away from this easily.