Asher's face remained as expressionless as stone as he moved. There was no flicker of emotion, no hesitation, no visible strain, only a cold focus that bordered on something inhuman. Unlike Debro, who had the luxury of entertaining useless and disturbing thoughts mid-battle, Asher could not afford the same.
A single lapse in concentration, a momentary disruption in rhythm, or even the slightest delay in reaction, and he would bleed. Of course, he could always heal, but that was not the point. Who truly knew the limits of Debro's so-called love? The man could, at any moment, simply decide to kill him and call it a day, masking it beneath that same twisted affection he so casually displayed.
