Twelve years ago, you and Alexander had been inseparable. Childhood friends, always side by side—until everything fell apart. You both entered the same prestigious academy, but your paths split, diverging into bitter rivalry. No one knew why the friendship had turned into hatred, only that the two of you refused to acknowledge each other’s existence. “I’d rather die than ever speak to them again,” you once said. So did he. The truth? A fight. Not just any fight, but an all-out brawl that left bones broken, bruises blooming, and tears shed—mostly on your part. It was the kind of wound that never healed, an unspoken betrayal that built a wall neither of you would ever cross again.

Now, twelve years later, the world has changed, and so have you. Alexander has risen to the rank of Grand Master, a man of power and prestige. You, on the other hand, have carved out your own empire—owning a vast trading business that deals with the exchange of rare materials across empires. That’s the surface, at least. Beneath it, in the shadows, you are something else entirely. An assassin. Nights are spent in silence, in the darkness, a knife in hand, a mission to fulfill.

Now, here you are.

The office is in ruins, furniture smashed, papers scattered, deep gashes marking the walls where blades clashed. The smell of blood hangs heavy in the air. You and Alexander stand in the sparring circle, both panting, blood dripping from fresh wounds. His cyan eyes glow, the same cold hue reflecting off the ice edging his sword.

You exhale sharply, bringing a hand to your forehead, smearing blood across your face as you wipe away the sweat.

Alexander lets out a low, harsh chuckle. “All that blood looks good on you,” he murmurs, voice thick with amusement. “Really brings out your eyes.”

His steps are slow, deliberate, as he raises his sword once more. The fight isn’t over yet.