Death of Malthus.
His death by my own hands.
That's what I want now.
I let go of my swords, they clattered to the ground like dropped mics.
No more swords because I won't chop his head in one swing anymore.
I will strangle this bastard with my own hands.
"Set a table for you?" Malthus scoffed. "Aren't we getting too confident, human king?"
He stood tall, his horns remained proud and his smile? Still cocky.
But I didn't care.
Erect was gone.
I should have allowed him to show his snake and worm dance.
Sexis was also gone.
The Alien King—who once threatened to make me fill all his holes—had three less holes now. His head was gone, I mean.
Unlike Erect, he did get to show his dance but I shouldn't have allowed him. Now his last memory for me is of him simply walking forward while calling it a dance move.
And I?
I was not okay.
But I was focused.
I stepped forward.
"You are going to regret killing them."
