Blood pooled in my mouth as the spear lodged itself deeper in me, watching me from above the commander of the enemy army sneered
The cold iron of the spear head twisted viscously as it churned my innards, struggling was meaningless my hands and feet had long since been cut off
Augustus II
He who was infinitely inferior to me in every sense gloated on with a victory born from betrayal, but perhaps that is why he had won
To I who had been so blind to the envy and jealousy of those I had considered my closest of allies, knowing well they could never beat me even in ambush they had poisoned me
With my strength inhibited I was defeated and turned into this wretched state
Now all that was left was a broken image of the man once called the greatest of men
" Sptoo "
I spat out the blood in my mouth right at Augustus's feet spattering his uniform red
Perhaps that action upset him as the very next second he pulled the spear keen in slicing right through me
