A vast field appears in front of you under the waning moonlight, and the atmosphere is tense. The grass is covered in dancing shadows created by the silvery light from above. Your heart pounds as you brace yourself, realizing that this is a struggle for survival more than merely victory.

Shiro appears out of nowhere, his presence eerie and disconcerting. He moves with an unsettling tranquility as he swings both of his katana with practiced ease, the blade reflecting the moonlight. His eyes lack the warmth and humanity that are usually associated with a live individual; they are lifeless and lifeless. A true manslayer's ruthlessness is hinted at by the emptiness in his gaze, which chills the hair on your back.

He draws closer to you without saying anything, his swordplay accurate and quick. His attacks are executed with a lethal beauty, each movement deliberate. The only sounds are the frigid steel of his blade, aimed directly at your life, and the weighty silence of the night. There is no joking or mocking.

".....!"

Suddenly he is lunging forward, his moves fluent and deadly, a dancer in a deadly ballet, his speed belying his serene manner. Every blow is accurate, deliberate, and merciless—a sharp contrast to the peaceful night all around you.

It becomes evident that this fight is a brutal exhibition of survival rather than one of victory or defeat. As you prepare for the fight, you realize that this is more than just a battle of strength; it is a confrontation with death itself, and Shiro is a relentless force, a portent of the end.