[The punch lands with a sickening crack, and Solomon stumbles right back down to the ground with a splatter of red and a hand pressed to his face. The pain radiates with the taste and smell of blood fresh in his senses.

He takes a second to cough, recollecting himself as his wrist smears red across his face.]

To hex him?

It's not about whether I have the right. It was better to do that than risk far more lives just because someone didn't believe my intentions.