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"The feeling of my heart pounding violently in my chest... the sharp pain of flesh being torn apart... the absolute focus of concentrating my entire mind on a single point... and this-"
She drew a deep breath, as though trying to inhale every trace of the rusty scent in the air.
"The scent of death."
1932.
She smiled.
There was satisfaction in that smile, a pure joy almost like a child's.
She was utterly unlike the cold, arrogant being she had been before the battle, and entirely different from the savage, furious ruler she had become during the stalemate.
At this moment, in Rossi's eyes, she finally seemed like a "person"
-a powerful fighter who felt joy and fulfillment from the depths of her soul upon encountering an evenly matched opponent.
"Come on-"
Her voice carried a burning anticipation. "Let me enjoy this even more, Rossi!"
The man standing opposite her had scarcely a patch of unbroken skin left. Blood soaked his tattered clothes and dripped onto the ground.
Faced with Imu's blazing excitement, he merely shook his head slowly.
He raised his arm, holding the long sword named "Sandai Kitetsu"
level, its tip aimed steadily at the distant figure.
"Let's end this here."
His voice was calm, even a little weary. "I don't have a taste for drawing ** from pain.
Let's settle everything with this next strike."
"...What a shame."
The vivid expression on Imu's face gradually faded. A trace of genuine reluctance flitted through her eyes, almost too quickly to catch.
She pressed her fingers together and straightened them like another invisible blade. Light suddenly burst from her fingertips-a blue as deep as the sea, entwined with a fiery scarlet.
She leaned forward slightly, poised to strike.
"Come."
Let this final clash bring their long battle