The masked figure groaned, staggering a step as his knees buckled slightly. The once-pristine white mask on his face was now cracked, a jagged fracture running from the brow to the cheekbone—but it remained in place, clinging stubbornly to his blood-smeared face like a symbol of defiance.
"I've changed my mind," he said with a light, almost playful laugh. "I'll be staying a while longer."
Then, after a beat, his smile twisted under his mask, and a rough, rasping chuckle escaped him—darker now, touched with pain.
"Didn't expect some kids from that academy to hit that hard…"
"But… manageable," he added confidently, brushing soot and debris from his once-flawless black suit. His fingers moved with habitual care, as though straightening a uniform before a formal duel.
