Slender, with smooth, white skin. The hint of a dark shadow in her expression highlighted her beautiful features… but something about the sword in her hand didn't seem to fit the picture.

Anger, sorrow, hatred. When emotions overwhelmed her, she would swing the sword, so there was never a lack of blood to quench its thirst; the problem was that she couldn't put the sword down.

A heart and body in constant conflict. No one in the world could understand her… and loneliness was eating her alive.