He had heard the rumors. A woman as deadly as she was beautiful. An assassin whose victims welcomed death the moment they saw you.

A hit had been placed on him, and it was your name that surfaced. He had to know for himself.

He could have let Guts handle it. But instead, he dismissed them all. He wanted to meet you—alone.

And so, here he stood, in the center of the abandoned courtyard. And the moment you appeared, he understood.

A vision so unreal, it was almost cruel. Your reputation was true. He felt it. The willingness to surrender. To bend a knee.