*Huff... Huff...* I stood there, slightly out of breath, my chest rising and falling with each tired inhale. My dagger remained buried in Gyosu's chest, its hilt trembling faintly in my grip as the black aura around it flickered.
Blood streamed from the deep wound, staining his torn white pants and dripping to the ground in a stream line.
I loosened my fingers, letting go of the weapon, its weight somehow heavier than it had ever been. Taking two steps back, I kept my eyes on him, unwilling to let my guard down even as I fought to catch my breath.
Gyosu's lifeless eyes stared forward, wide and empty, as blood trickled from the corners of his mouth. His once-proud figure, the man who had stood tall against demon lords and once fought at my side, was now hollow, broken, and unmoving.
Yet, he didn't fall.
