"Did??"
The four remaining members of the Valhalla family were utterly speechless, the scene that had just unfolded leaving them lost for words.
"You!" The muscular man lying on the floor groaned, his words slurred, several of his teeth dislodged from the impact.
Christopher crouched down, tapping the man's head twice with a casual air. "I told you," he said, his voice devoid of emotion, "but you wouldn't listen. So, I had to do it." He stood up and turned to his mother. "What do you think, Mum? Should I spare them?"
Amara fixed the five prone figures with a look of utter disdain. "You should all consider yourselves lucky that I don't want my son's hands stained with your pathetic blood."
Hearing her words, the four still standing exchanged confused glances.
