Michael's eyes widened—not with courage, but with pathetic recognition.
The face of the girl before him wasn't the daughter he remembered, not the same, quiet, scared little girl who hid from him behind her brother.
It was something far colder.
Iris stood above him, silent.
[Water Weapon]
A katana appeared in her hand, made of ice and a cold rage.
It gleamed in her grasp like a crescent moon.
Micheal could tell from the look on her face–
She was going to kill him!
"W-w-w-wait, girl, I-I-I" He stammered, trying to find the words that would let him keep his life.
He had put on a brave face in front of Rudra, but now, faced with the end, he tried to beg for his life.
"Why do you beg for your life? What do you have left to even live for?" Iris's voice cut through the air, silencing Micheals snivelling.
Micheal went quiet at her words.
He had never considered that question before. He had drowned his mind so deeply that he never thought much more at all.
