The leader narrowed his eyes. "Who are you? Tell me! You're not that person!"
Arya tilted his head, his voice cold. "You want to know my name? Or do you just want a reason to kill me?"
Before the leader could react, Arya vanished. His eyes darted around, searching. Then—
Whoosh!
Arya appeared right in front of him. For a split second, the leader's heart nearly stopped. Fear gripped him, but he quickly swung his sword.
The blade sliced through Arya's body—yet, the wound healed almost instantly. The leader's breath hitched. He slashed again. And again. But no matter how many times he struck, Arya remained unharmed.
His energy drained. His movements slowed. Desperation crept in.
Arya scoffed. "Is that all?"
Before the leader could respond, a crushing fist slammed into his stomach. His spine cracked—he collapsed, unable to move, writhing in pain.
"Please… let me go," the leader gasped, his voice trembling. "Don't kill me!"
