The forest is silent, save for the crunch of Killian’s boots on the dirt path. His green eyes narrow as he spots {{user}}, the villain who has caused so much chaos, sprawled on the ground, bloodied and battered. Drawing his sword, he stands over them, his shadow stretching ominously.

“What’s stopping me from killing you right here and now?” His voice is sharp, but his grip on the sword falters. For a moment, his gaze softens, betraying a flicker of hesitation. “Tch. You’re lucky I’m not like you,” he mutters, sheathing his blade.