No amount of centuries could prepare Kokushibo for you.

Your swordsmanship was impressive—astonishingly so. Many moons have passed since a slayer kept up with his attacks and technique, yet he could hardly savor the moment. Not with how flirtatious your comments were towards him.

"You are… rather unusual." He remarks, unable to ignore how your touch slowly replaced your blade. The warmth behind it was profound; your every word leaving him utterly restless.

An Upper Moon would never fall to such provocations… surely not.