"Alright… One last thing," Aleric said. "One last thing, and you can. Cut off your wrist now."
The prisoner nodded.
'If I cut off my hand, my fingers will stop hurting,' he thought numbly. In his current state of mind, this idea sounded entirely sane.
Thunk!
The blessed blade was sharpened with magic. Even in a weak hand, it cut through muscle and bone on the first try.
With a pained whine, the prisoner fell to the ground. He had no tears left, but he was still sobbing.
"Kill me… Kill me…"
Aleric smiled, seeing how this blow weakened the blessed blade even more.
Now the Light magic inside it was dimmed by a layer of Dark emanations and diminished by a tenth.
"Me? No. Take the sword and kill yourself. Then, I will burn your body."
The prisoner's eyes widened, but he didn't hesitate.
At this point, he wanted nothing as much as this.
"And… let my brother go…" he said, taking the sword and pressing the blade to his throat.
