"You really think it ends here?" Do Giseon's voice carried a strange quality, like an echo that came from somewhere deeper than his throat. Blood continued to flow from his wounds, pooling on the black marble beneath him, yet his eyes held a gleam that spoke of secrets still unspoken.
Jinmu kept his sword steady, the blade pointed directly at the fallen First Blade's heart. Something felt wrong about this moment, though he couldn't quite identify what was triggering his unease. Do Giseon had been defeated decisively, his techniques overwhelmed by Grandmaster-level power that transcended normal martial understanding. Yet the man's demeanor suggested victory rather than defeat.
He's too calm. Too controlled. Someone who's been beaten this badly should be desperate, angry, or at least showing some sign of genuine distress. Instead, he looks... satisfied?
