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Watching him work, the expertise at his fingertips, it was like watching a masterful performance. Even the act of dissection was artful. He was so knowledgeable, so capable, and he would explain how he used these techniques in the past to help people. My fear quickly turned to admiration, and I realized that Lord Noah could not be judged by such terms as good or evil. He is neither black nor white, but gray at both its darkest and brightest, a gray as deep as the ocean.

This bounty hunter had spent years doing his job, hunting down criminals like they were beasts and putting his life on the line time and time again, bereft of fear. He had heard plenty of threats before, plenty of warnings about what would happen if he continued his endeavors, and shrugged them off. That said, the man before him was projecting so much hatred, so much sadistic killing intent, that he felt a chill crawl up his spine, a chill he wasn’t sure he had ever experienced before. It didn’t matter if the man before him was his target or not. He promptly turned and left, wanting to get as far away from the Knight’s Sheath and this rapacious lunatic as possible. Once he was gone, everyone in the bar applauded Noah’s performance, and he turned and bowed.

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