Ah, crap...
Evan failed to control his strength, and now one of the thugs had blood leaking into the gaps of their fractured face bones.
Strangely, it didn't disturb him as much as he imagined he would. No more disassociated to death than with the innumerable amount of wild animals he's killed in his existence, plenty enough to earn the ire of a spirit.
That's not good. He was disappointed in his inherent indifference to killing. He looked at Jazdia leaping towards the wall to hide. He liked her words. It is only a shame that he didn't really need them.

Wait, hiding? Bolts whizzed past Evan, stirring him back up into the battle he is in right now. He squinted.
It's easy to make the easy choice. To kill with no qualms like his current allies can, and excuse it as duty. Whatever karmic retribution this brings him, he'll just have to live with it.

He walks forward, grabbing the torch with an ice hand accurate to the size of his own hand, and hurling both towards the farthest thug, the fourth one at the back. Once within range, the giant ice hand lifts itself from the ground and its own permeated pool of cold smoke, and grabs at the nearest thug that wasn't yet assaulted by either Yvonne or Louise.