"I Can not grant him glory rights of surviving my blade" he growled, then looked to the imp hitting the wall, followed by the smoke. It neither spooked nor startled War, as he simply watched the man appear. War didn't fight unless someone threatened him, which the man did at first, pointing his blade at him. To further the insult, War didn't see tiredness nor boredom in the man's face. He saw disrespect. The Horsemen were Judge, Jury and Executioner out here. They were the law. If they said drop your weapons and walk away, you did it, or you crawled away to bleed out... If you were that lucky.<br/><br/>"Ah, a cursed one" he said, narrowing his eyes at the rather threatening intruder. "The council has ruled you unworthy of life" he declared, though made no attempt of drawing his blade on Michael. "You should pray that Death finds you soon" he told him, his eyes flashing as he read the man like a book. "And not Pestilence" he said, allowing his eyes to drift back to Anethrial, then shifted his foot off her spear, then kicked it infront of her. "You should all be on your way" he said, looking back to Michael.