Well, that was going to be traumatizing for the rest of his life, and outright guaranteed Alvios' one hundred percent not-going-to-live theory. Alvios didn't have words. Hundreds dead. People he cared about, people he helped and protected. Just dead, because one day some red-clad magic man just showed up and snapped his fingers.

    Well, he explained who he was and what he did, and Alvios didn't really care to start psychoanalyzing some mysterious answer. He had an answer in his hand. Alvios took both hands to his sword and rushed forward, preparing to slash at the newcomer. Everything he had was in this last desperate attempt to accomplish anything. "Repentance through death," he muttered. He was ready to die.