Andre breathed like a heaving bellows, gasping in great mouthfuls. Blood covered his body, and his clothes hung in tatters.
Looking at Kunya, whom he had cut down and who clearly would not survive, he felt the fierce satisfaction of revenge. The old grudge that had haunted him for so long was suddenly settled, leaving him with an unprecedented sense of ease and release. Even the several wounds on his body could not dampen that pleasure.
He wanted to shout, but he had no strength left. His shield tossed aside, he sat on the ground, panting heavily.
Kunya was stronger than him. Even with everything he had, Andre could only fight him to a standstill. Had Kunya not suddenly exposed an obvious opening, he could never have killed him. Yet even after seizing that opening, he had still been wounded by Kunya's dying counterattack.
Three wounds on his chest ran deep enough to expose bone. Blood poured from them, staining his clothes red, but he paid it no mind.
Blood loss and exhaustion left him dizzy.
So quiet! Why was it so quiet?
He forced his eyes open, and his entire body suddenly stiffened.
He stared blankly at the corpses strewn across the ground, his mind empty. During his fight with Kunya, he had focused all his attention on the battle and had not noticed what was happening around him. He had vaguely heard shouts from the Shield-Blade Style members, but absorbed in his fight, he had thought nothing of them. Only now did he understand what had happened.
After an unknown length of time, he slowly came back to himself. He closed his eyes in anguish. Though he had long since been expelled from the Shield-Blade Style, it would have been a lie to say he felt nothing for