"AAAH!"
Legions of nearby men and women recoiled in fright while the man gargled on his blood and spasmed no end. But for better or worse, all were shocked to see the torn part grow back and replace what he'd lost.
Yet, even as he regained his speech abilities, the barbarian lord felt no joy! Instead, he broke into cold sweat, and when picturing the days to come, insurmountable dread filled and squashed his staunch exterior. Terror-stricken, he soiled himself!
"Your majesty, mercy! Mercy! I was muddled, please show mercy and grant me a quick death!"
The man implored in desperation. Alas, his pleas fell on deaf ears.
"Mercy is the plight of the feeble. Only the feeble must rely on shows of mercy to secure image and seat. This Tyrant does not. As the first immortal without connections to my house, congratulations, for an eternity of damnation."