Purple Death wiped the blood from her lips with the back of her hand, her strange purple-tinted eyes locked onto the monster standing in the distance.
For the first time in many years, genuine fear flickered deep within her eyes.
It wasn't that she feared strong opponents, as she had fought desperately many times before.
Since childhood, she had survived battles against foes far stronger than herself.
She had escaped hunts, endured torture, crawled out of ambushes, and killed enemies who should have been impossible to defeat.
So strength alone had never frightened her.
And the Rain Pavilion did not raise cowards.
If she feared strength, she would have died long ago, but what frightened her the most was… the unknown.
Her gaze fixed on the two pitch-black blades now held loosely in Shadow's hands.
Even now, she still couldn't fully comprehend what she had just witnessed and then experienced.
The attacks had no trajectory.
