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Heathen fools. Even when a literal Angel, a messenger of God, stood before them to tell them what they were doing was wrong, they were so arrogant that they still thought they were right.

But Cambiel didn’t have time to discuss theology. One of the heretic soldiers noticed Skarsneek sneaking up on them and, with a warning cry, reached for a javelin. Cambiel’s arrow met his eye, and he fell to the ground with a satisfying thud, but what little chance there had been to resolve this peacefully had just died with him.

[colour=gold]“To the Fallen with it,”[/colour] he muttered morosely, nocking another arrow. That wasn’t the first human he had killed. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t be the last either.

The other riders quickly drew their swords and charged towards the duo. Cambiel gave his goblin ally a quick once-over just to make sure he wouldn’t need any help, and when he was assured that Skarsneek could handle himself in this fight, he turned his attention back to the heretics. Not that he was worried. He could have fired a dozen arrows in the space it would have taken the riders to reach them. The one he [i]did[/i] fire made a new home for itself inside a heretic’s black heart, and the rider was dead before his body hit the floor.

If it sounds like Cambiel didn’t really care about these humans, it’s because he darn well didn’t. Heretics were the lowest form of life on earth. Lower than animals, lower than monsters, lower even than Demons and Devils: at least they had the excuse that the Demon Lord was influencing them. No, the only thing that even compared to a human heretic in terms of evil was a Fallen Angel.  Those who willingly walked away from the Chief God’s embrace were a thousand times worse than those who had never felt it in the first place.

With the minions handled, Cambiel turned his sights on the leader...