"Leave me."

His voice wisped throughout the night, a blade in his hand as he stood in the middle of the moonlight. Crimson rolled from his sword, dripping onto the already bloodied ground before he held his head, feeling it thump in pain- Whereas not even a migraine could compete.

Kafka wasn't here, he wasn't sure if his mara-stricken self could muster any form of restraint for long. He's already killed most of the damned mara-struck soldiers in this place. The sight of abundance always caused his heart to feel heavier, a sense of anger and melancholy mixed into a deadly cocktail to his body.

Blade's breath was heavy, his chest rising and falling as he turned. Holding the blade in his hand tightly, he raised it- Pointing the sharpened edge with intent that's impossible to mistake. "Kill me or help me." He narrowed his eyes, feeling the mara creep throughout his body. He knew it was only a matter of time before it fully sunk in, where even Kafka couldn't handle.

For now, this was his best bet.