Three Little Words
“Kill them all.”
Electo froze for a moment and turned to look back at the white-haired mage, who was lounging back, observing the scene as it unfolded before her with an apathetic gaze. Demons spilled forth, crawling through molten fel, gaze intent upon the pair. But that was not what seemed to hold the warlock’s attention. It was Crimson’s lack of care with what she had said.
“And here I was just looking for more parchment for contracts,” he quipped, drawing Crimson out of whatever mood she had been in to nearly cross her eyes at her lover.
“Well, I suppose killing is a bit drastic in this situation... but they will remember us the next time they come back from the Nether,” she shrugged and began to conjure flame. Electo seemed to relax and turned away from her, his attention focusing on the problem at hand.
“You do have a knack for attracting attention,” he griped under his breath, earning an unladylike snort from his companion.
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It is right to learn, even from the enemy.
“Fas est et ab hoste doceri.“
Ovid, Metamorphoses, IV, 428.
(via hellyeahtotalwarquotes)
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