When Glass Knife was caught, she had no concerns about safety. She was well armed as a blacksmith, better than most hunters who tracked her down. She wielded a dagger in one hand and an iron shield in another, and she snarled defiance at those who tried to condemn her for her crimes.
She was, after all, protecting humanity. Purging impurity. Ridding them all of the Amalgamated stain on their bloodlines. In her mind she was doing the whole village a service. A worrying number of villagers agreed with her.
As the wife of one of the elders, her sentence was small. An act of community service, doing what was already her job. She wasn’t imprisoned. She wasn’t executed. She wasn’t publicly condemned for her crime. She laughed off over a dozen murders with a cruel, smug-filled smile.
While she carried an iron shield with her, and it weathered the reprisal of many an Amalgamated enraged at the lack of justice, her real shield was the status she held. Wife of an elder, blacksmith of the town, proof that when an Amalgamated was a victim, justice had its limits.