These mages that worked their wills on water would soon learn the error of their confidence. The silent image strode toward them silently. As a shadow follows the living. This shade now fell upon his first prey. Drawing the line to his hood and swinging away in an broad stroke. The action made as munch sound, as a portrait depicting the same action. No savior for man, he thought.  

Cold stare knew these mages would not change the outcome they were pawns in an game where knights and rooks contend. He moved to the first mage who was closest. Whether he faced the mages back or not mattered little. The blade would aim for his heart freezing him from the inside out. Nothing could stop this. The mages life was forfeit. Another piece to be removed from the game. Staying true to from the specter moved the blade effortlessly and vertically through the mage. In a slow climb to the mages face cold stare was ensuring the ice spread as the edge moved. The reactions to his were inconsequential the image moved to the next mage drawing strength from his fear.