It was an absolutely gruesome sight that made even Moon's hardened expression falter briefly, his stomach churning with instinctive disgust at the carnage he'd created. He certainly didn't enjoy viewing such horrific results, and the brutality troubled him on some level.
But it absolutely had to be done. This represented the most efficient method of dealing with so many enemies, eliminating them at once.
In a world filled with violence, hatred, and existential competition for survival, showing mercy to enemies was treason to oneself. If you refused to destroy your enemies, they would inevitably destroy you instead when circumstances reversed.
The Black Raven screeched with fury, clearly understanding that most of the people he'd been entrusted to protect for so long had died, a horrible death.
Moon turned his cold gaze toward the flying guardian beast.
"Don't be so upset about their deaths," Moon said quietly. "It's your turn next. You'll join them very soon."
SCREECH! ROOOAR!
