Mira weaved through the battlefield like the executioner of death itself.
Blood painted the air wherever she passed, dyeing the air and earth in a crimson hue.
A member of the Crimson Fang lunged, his sword aimed at her neck with an accuracy that made her narrow her eyes.
But she did not lose focus.
Her body dipped beneath the attack, letting it slice through the air above her head.
Before the person could withdraw, she drove forward, her dagger leading as it pierced through his chest. It met a minor restriction, but not for long. The blade pushed further, into his heart.
Blood spluttered to the floor but Mira had left, her body a flicker of blue.
Soon after she left, an arrow pierced the ground she had stood on.
The person who had shot it looked at her.
"Perceptive," she said, almost applauding Mira.
Mira did not care; her body burst forward, almost too fast for her to control herself.
But that was just what anyone who saw her would think.
