He squints and looks up from the blade, bringing a hand up warily in front himself as if expecting the wall to shatter like glass. He's tense, his whole core focused down onto what magic he has left. If he's to defend himself, he knows he's going to have to make it stronger then anything he's had to do before. He doubts even Seven hit him as hard as this man wants to.

A chill runs up his spine as the Protector explains what he was doing, and the fury that he's been forcibly swallowing down bubbles up into his throat for a moment. He snarls at him, a low animal growl, baring his teeth. He shifts a step forward and sideways in a single motion, putting himself between the Protector and the Wizard where she's collapsed on the ground.

"They're people, 《you miserable coward.》" He can't think of a word strong enough for how he feels right now, so he dips briefly into his own language, pulling out the nastiest thing he's ever heard someone say with intent before. "Have you ever spoken to them! Have you spent forty years plotting how to torture one of them to death??"