Who Kills 'Words Of Radiance' Character Sadeas?

I just finished rereading 'Words of Radiance' and the moment Sadeas gets what's coming to him still gives me chills. Adolin Kholin straight up murders him in a fit of righteous fury during their confrontation in the warcamps. Sadeas had just admitted to betraying Dalinar's army at the Tower, showing zero remorse, and even threatened to keep undermining them. Adolin snaps—no duel, no warning—just shoves his Blade through Sadeas' smug face in an alley. It's brutal, spontaneous, and utterly satisfying after all the crap Sadeas pulled. Brandon Sanderson writes the scene so viscerally; you can almost hear the Shardblade sizzle through bone. What makes it hit harder is Adolin's immediate guilt afterward, showing how unlike Sadeas he truly is.

Let’s break down Sadeas' death from a narrative craftsmanship angle. Brandon Sanderson spends two books building Sadeas into the perfect villain—charismatic enough to maintain political power, cunning enough to evade consequences, and so consistently vile that readers cheer when Adolin finally ends him. The murder isn’t just a random act of violence; it’s the culmination of systemic betrayal. Sadeas’ confession about leaving Dalinar’s men to die at the Tower removes any moral ambiguity. Adolin’s action is framed as justice, not vengeance, though the messy aftermath (hiding the body, the moral turmoil) adds layers.

What fascinates me is how this moment reshapes Adolin’s arc. Unlike Kaladin’s flashy heroics or Shallan’s scheming, Adolin’s killing of Sadeas is raw and human. There’s no Radiant idealism here—just a flawed man reacting to irredeemable evil. Sanderson could’ve had Sadeas die in battle or via assassination, but choosing Adolin as the killer forces readers to grapple with moral complexity. Even the setting—a dim alley instead of a duel—subverts Alethi cultural expectations. This scene isn’t just about removing a villain; it’s about exposing the cracks in Alethkar’s honor system.

Sadeas’ death is one of those rare fictional murders that feels both shocking and inevitable. Adolin does it, but what’s wild is how unplanned it is—no scheming, no grand speech, just a visceral reaction to Sadeas gloating about his atrocities. The way Sanderson writes it makes you feel Adolin’s pulse racing: the sudden grip on his Shardblade, the way time seems to slow as he thrusts. Sadeas dies mid-sentence, which is poetically fitting for a man who weaponized words so often.

What sticks with me is the aftermath. Adolin hides the body like a common criminal, showing how far he’s fallen from Alethi ‘honor.’ Yet it’s also weirdly uplifting—Sadeas’ death clears a political roadblock for Dalinar’s coalition. The scene mirrors real-world justice systems failing against manipulative elites; sometimes, change requires messy actions outside the rules. If you liked this, try ‘The Lies of Locke Lamora’ for similar moral grayness—though fair warning, it’s way more brutal.