Rage
Blood tainted his blade with an acrid air. It smelt like death all around him: the bodies that littered the ground were a testament to the carnage he had wrought. More soldiers kept on coming, and so, more littered the grounds with their corpses. His conscience rebelled at his actions, but his heart pulsed with the unforgiving rage of ferocity. Shouts echoed through the night. Telling him to stop, pleading with him to have mercy.
The warrior paused, staring into the eyes of the man who had so vigorously pled for his life, and he nearly spared it.
Until he saw the faces of his wife and child, lying lifeless in their chambers.
He ran his blade straight through his victim's chest, and reveled in the splash of blood that spilt across his weapons.