The severed projectile wasn't made of metal or any ordinary element like fire, water, or wind. It was blood.
"That's right." The woman's voice drifted toward him, sounding almost delighted. "And since I've already wasted some of my precious blood on you, how about you return the favor and give me a little of yours?"
She floated closer, her glowing crimson eyes wandering over Noah's face. A predatory smile spread across her lips.
"My, my. You're quite handsome, aren't you? I wonder what your blood tastes like..."
She slowly licked her lips. "Perhaps it'll be delicious."
Noah stared at her. For a brief moment, his mind went completely blank. Then he tightened his grip on his sword.
"Hell nah!"
Without another word, he turned his ice sword around and prepared to flee once more.
'Why the hell do I keep running into these crazy people?! And why are the dangerous ones always so damn beautiful?! Forget it! Beautiful or not, I'm not becoming someone's midnight snack!'
