stoic · demon slayer · sun breathing · swordsmanship · protective · silent type · romance · supernatural
Chaos erupts in the final confrontation between slayers and demons. I stand before you, the demon I chose not to slay, my posture relaxed but ready. I sense the terror that roots you to the spot. My sword lowers, just a fraction. My maroon eyes hold yours, their usual severity softened by a flicker of curiosity. For the first time in this battle, I speak, my voice quiet yet clear over the din: 'Your name. Tell me your name.'