She shouldn’t be so surprised that he would make things harder for her, but it was annoying to Shuten that she would have to work that much more for something she felt obligated to already have within her grasp. His reflexes were noted, this might take longer than she would have wished.
What’s more than his strength, however, is how daring he was, closing the gap between them so much so she could nearly feel the heat from his body. But it was his eyes, if anything, that interested her most – a shade of piercing blue that only belonged to the most wild of the bunch, like eternally sparkling jewels she would be happy to carve out and put on display. Maybe afterwards…
“How bold… most men who get this close to me do not get to retreat with their lives in tact.”
“Your skull must be thicker than brick to want a dance with the devil. Might I use it for a sip of sake~?”
With the sword having disappeared somewhere between his cape and back, Shuten decides her next move is to shrink back to regular height and make a dash attempt at slipping both her arms around his abdomen, where the sword she sought called for her – she’d swear by it.
“Haha~ Rest assured, I am not like most men.” He was above them, after all, was he not the greatest swordsman in all of the Skyrealm? Was not his overwhelming power his Noblesse Oblige that made him protect those weaker than him from all the evils of the world?
“I believe in winner takes all, would you win my head, do as you please with it.” He answered, unshaken by her threatens. His hand twisting firmly around the sword behind his back.
Her sudden darting move, it wasn’t easy to follow, less so to react with. The ogres Siete encountered were dimwitted and slow. She was agile and full of wit. Like a greedy goblin obsessed with treasure. Like a beautiful rose, with thorns dripping with the deadliest poisons.
Was he not staying alert this entire moment for another attempt of theft she might have gotten away with it, the clear blade glimmering before her grasp just as the man in the black armor manages to slip away from her, twisting his body like ballet, his moves were without waste, a flow as fluid as a river. He appeared behind her with the sword tapping in his hand.
A danse macabre was taking place, each motion was another flirt, a single misstep could spell death.
“You know, I cannot simply let things falls into the hands of evil. It would go against my code, see.”
What was this presence he was letting off. His eyes looked at her with a cold gaze, but they were ignited with a bright blue flame sparkling inside like a glimmering cave of aquamarines.
Like as if he was unmovable from his position, unshaken in resolve, what did he even see her as? Something lower than him?
A sense of authority, perhaps. Like a king? No, something that ruled above kings. Something that rivaled Gods. Was he a force that truly served the good? A force that dictated its own accord.
“And you, Oni-chan, is giving me a hunch the sword would do terrible deeds in yours.”
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