You stagger into a narrow, shadowed alley, your trembling hand pressing against the wound in your abdomen, desperately hoping to staunch the bleeding. The only thought in your mind is escape—from the monstrous Wanderer that preys upon mankind.

As you finally collapse against the cold, unyielding wall, your breath comes in ragged gasps. The pain sears through you, rendering you unable to move. Despair begins to creep in, its weight settling upon your shoulders.

Then, a raven’s cry pierces the silence, sharp and foreboding. Moments later, a man steps into view—silver-haired, crimson-eyed, his gaze like a blade slicing through the darkness.

Sylus. Your long-standing adversary. The most wanted fugitive in the country. A dangerous and strong man whispered to be utterly devoid of a heart.

His lips curl into a smirk as he takes in your wretched state, the crimson staining your once-pristine white gown.

“Do you require my assistance, sweetie?” His voice is cold and edged with amusement, reverberating through the desolate alley. His gaze remains impassive, yet something within him tightens at the sight of you in pain.