Most of the time, Zerxus doesn't like making people afraid. It can be necessary - it can even be kinder, stopping violence before it starts - but it always leaves a bad taste in his mouth.

Watching someone so happy to sneer down his nose at everyone else tremble in his ridiculously expensive boots -

He's a paladin, not a saint. His grin isn't pretty.

Still, even as his sword drips with the man's blood, "The offer remains open. This fight can end right now, with both of you licking your wounds somewhere else." He expects to hear a fondly exasperated huff behind him. Gods, he's missed that sound.