If I were granted a sword, I would fight for you, even if everything beneath this clear sky were about to unleash a light that pierced through you.
Nnoitra's head throbbed painfully. Blood streamed down from his scalp, filling his eyes. Everything in his vision was crimson and blurred.
Yet only that woman's figure shone as brilliantly as a knight from some tale.
That woman was like the perfect knight from a fairy tale, clad in silver-white gilded armor and walking forth into the dawn.
She was too beautiful to belong in this world. No... she was never meant to live alongside pitiful insects like them.
She did not need to chase the moon, as they did.
She was the moon!
But that was exactly why she pissed him off so much!
What gave you the right to become the moon?!
And what gave you the right to say that you were different from us, that you weren't a beast?!
Nnoitra wiped the sticky blood from his eyes in one swipe. He grabbed the scythe that had fallen to the ground, his face twisting into a crazed expression. With a roar, he charged at Nel!
Nel merely stood where she was, watching Nnoitra coldly. Then she leaned back slightly and tightened her grip on the spear in her hand. The berserk figure was reflected in her gold-green eyes, yet it stirred not the slightest ripple.
She merely watched him, parting her lips as she murmured:
"I told you, there are still two legs left..."
As though he had heard Nel's voice, Nnoitra leaped high into the air, as if he meant to jump all the way to the moon. His six arms raised their weapons overhead, and upon every weapon was reflected a dim moonlight.
His eyes held only that