The arena held its breath.
Sunlight poured through the open ceiling of the coliseum, glinting in ancient marbles while the spectators leaned forward from their seats, on edge by the start of the match.
Dust erupted from the area where Kojiro dashed forward. It swirled with the wind, a silent witness to the impending clash.
Kojiro inhaled deeply; his mind stilled as the hands that gripped the hilt tightened.
He arrived near Jin's range, but the world dulled.
[Mind Sword active]
All colour faded from his sight.
The wolf demi-human caught the sharp sense of danger lingering around his throat by the appearance of a white line that cleaved the space.
It moved slowly, passing straight to his neck.
Kojiro stopped breathing. He could feel it instinctively, the sense of death creeping up on him, ripping his soul apart.
'I'm dead…', Kojiro muttered under his breath, his voice low filled with intense sorrow.
