(Scars do not appear to be cause of death –shock ... - Bad Request

“JUSTICE was my cause. The FLESH... the FLESH could not remain. Yet
JUSTICE needed to be SERVED. There was the DEATH of flesh, but the WILL
would not let go... there were MORE to be punished. ALWAYS more.
JUSTICE... JUSTICE would not have been served by my DEATH.”
"Then you are only LYING to yourself by thinking you live. You're DEAD,
Vhailor. What JUSTICE is served when the servant of justice lies to itself?"
“CRIMINAL...” he rumbled, but it was only an echo of his once-formidible
presence. “The GUILTY must be PUNISHED. I LIVE to bring RETRIBUTION to
those that defile JUSTICE's name... the blade edged towards my neck.”
"But you DID die, Vhailor, long ago. And now it's time to let go."
My words seemed to echo, gathering power as I spoke them. The truth rang
like a gong, resonating between us both. The embers in Vhailor's eyes
flickered - and then guttered out. His armor collapsed, the axe and the metal
plates clattering to the ground with a crash. As they struck the earth,
however, they rose - clouds of dust - ash and rust particles rising from the
metal as the plates and axe aged, decayed, and disintegrated right before
my eyes. All that remained were a few pitted metal plates as gravestones
that Vhailor ever existed.
"Rest now, Vhailor," I murmured, slumping to the ground with a groan.
The adrenaline trickled away, and left agony in its wake. Cheek pressed
against the stone I grunted, tried to breathe.
And then I felt it. The crack of stone. The growing tremors as the shoring of
these tunnels began to buckle under the strain. The battle had left their
mortal wounds on this abandoned mine shaft.
Dak'kon was limping towards me, Annah's body slung over his shoulder.
"We need to get out," I groaned, "The tunnels are collapsing. Can someone
pick up my arms?"
"Portal detected!" Nordom chirped, my severed limbs flopping into his pack.
"About damn time," I grunted, "Which way?"
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