Paris's return

A deafening silence enveloped the battlefield as Menelaus's severed head soared through the air, its trajectory a macabre arc against the pale sky. A torrent of crimson erupted from his neck, gushing violently and splattering onto the ground like a grisly fountain. The sticky warmth of the blood painted not only the soil but also drenched Paris's bronze armor, staining it in stark red. The metallic tang of blood hung heavy in the air, mingling with the acrid scent of death.

Paris stood amidst the chaos, his smirk twisting grotesquely as he gazed at the headless body of the Spartan king crumpling to the ground. The gleam in his eyes was unhinged, the triumph on his face a mask of madness. And then, a sound erupted from his throat—a wild, maniacal laughter that tore through the eerie quiet like a blade through flesh.

"GAHAHAHAHAHA!!!"