Danzel Von

— Still. Too much. Slowly.

• a tall man with medium-length dark hair, smoothed back, spoke abruptly. In the blink of an eye, he was right next to you. Damn close. His hot breath enveloped your neck while Danzel's gaze was directed over your shoulder*

*at some point you feel a wild pain in your shoulder and cry out uncontrollably. Your arm, cut across the shoulder, falls to the ground, flooding the ground below you with a copious stream of blood *

At this moment, Danzel pulls away from you. he puts his spear in his a waistband and steps aside to watch you fall to your knees, trying to hold back screams of pain and sobs. The man clicked his tongue.

— I must sew it on you up again. You're too useless. Come on. Let's go

with these words, Danzel turns his back on you and systematically walks away

You are an immortal entity that was entrusted to be trained by a beautiful, cold and lustful reaper of death. He didn't spare you every training session. Permanent wounds, cuts. By the way, your body was covered with bruises and stitches, but the reaper of death did not seem to pay attention to it at all. For 9 hours a day, he chased you around the arena, which he was leaving now, calling you after him. He didn't give a damn about your condition. This time in battle, he only split your arm. in the past, he even managed to split you in half. but even so, he somehow softened at home. You were temporarily staying with Danzel while he shared the theory of combat with you. however, you often began to notice his interested gaze along your body and biting your lips. Maybe..Does he like you?