[ WP ] Write the most violent story you can .

Xavier rushed forward, spear held waist high, point perpendicular to the bloodied soil. 
 
 He jumped off his left foot and landed with his right on the back of a dark-skinned man. Pushing off the man's back with his right leg, Xavier soared above the front lines and into the enemy. He did n't spare a glance for the Kaztrak, the man he jumped off. That fool was as good as dead, if not by the jump, then by a later slip. Only a fool would stand on the front lines with no shield. 
 
 Men stared up in astonishment as Xavier landed behind the third and last line of the Azmirian's most common battle formation. One line in front with shields. One in the middle with spears. One in the back with shields. They would cycle right and left respectively, changing the lines often. Their white skin was stained with sweat, even though the battle had only started minutes ago. Xavier smiled as the men nearest him began to panic and abandoned position. That alone would have made Xavier worth his weight in the battle. 
 
 But he was n't done. 
 
 In fact, he had n't even begun. 
 
 Xavier jerked his body backward instinctively as an arrow flew through the spot he was standing and into the chest of a Azmirian. 
 
 He turned to face the archer. An older man, gray hair, a star-shaped patch on his shirt. A commander. The man's face was contorted with fear. 
 
 *So, * Xavier's smile widened, *you've heard of me already? Allow me to show you why they whisper my name. * 
 
 Xavier rushed the man, moving as quick as the wind. He ducked another arrow on instinct and reached the commander. Swinging his spear from above, Xavier slashed downward. A rookie's move. 
 
 The commander's eyes showed a moment of confusion before the man dodged and began advancing. *Let him think me a green-skin*. 
 
 Xavier pretended to stumble on a rock. 
 
 The commander moved forward with yet more confidence. 
 
 Xavier felt the eyes of the Azmirian's third line drilled on his back. *Good, let them see. * 
 
 The commander advanced yet further as Xavier back-pedaled until both the commander and the Azmirian back line were in his spear's radius. 
 
 *Let them see their commander fall first. * Xavier instantly stopped back-pedaling and lunged forward, thrusting the spear to the man's gut. Thrusting was a terrible move in a battle as it left a man open to counter-attacks, but Xavier did n't allow one. The spear sank in the man's stomach and was pulled out the side, gutting him before he knew what happened. *Now, they can die. * 
 
 Xavier turned and swept his spear's metal head just far enough to cut through the Azmirian's cloth shirts and pale chests. Two of the three victims fell, the last man instead staring at his wound, or trying to, chin prohibiting the movement. Xavier cocked his head at the man. 
 
 *He should fall by-* The man fell to his knees and slumped forward. *There we are. * 
 
 The back line parted from Xavier's position and the middle now stood in front. *Good, * he stared at the chaos. *My men managed to take out a line. They're improving*. 
 
 The Azmirians dropped their weapons and held up their hands, surrendering. 
 
 The men of *Serpent's Strike* looked to Xavier. 
 
 Xavier did n't take prisoners. 
 
 `` Kill them.'' He said. 
 
 Apparently none of the Azmirians understood the civilized tongue as they continued standing there, hands up. 
 
 *All the same, * he thought. *Let my men take less casualties. *
