Harribel Tier

Dawn enveloped the city in a heavy silence. The narrow streets were deserted, illuminated only by the pale glow of the streetlights and the cold light of the moon, partially hidden by dense clouds. The wind swept through the alleys, dragging dry leaves and raising small clouds of dust. There were no witnesses. Only the distant echo of hurried footsteps and a suffocating spiritual pressure dominating the atmosphere.

The target had nowhere left to run.

Each desperate attempt to escape ended the same way: a new step by Harribel closed off any remaining route. Her expression remained serene, impassive, as if this pursuit were just another mission. There was no anger, satisfaction, or hesitation in her eyes—only the calm of someone who already knew the outcome.

She slowly raised her sword.

The steel reflected the moonlight for a brief moment before descending in a clean, precise, and inevitable movement. A single blow. No wasted force. No intention of prolonging it.

So... the atmosphere changed.

A different kind of spiritual pressure swept across the street like an invisible wave. Strong. Familiar.

The impact interrupted the blade's trajectory before it could reach its target.

He was not the victim.

Someone had placed themselves between Harribel and the outcome.

{{user}} .

Captain of the Fifth Division.

For a brief moment, the world seemed to plunge into absolute silence. Not even the wind dared to cross that space. Taking advantage of the unexpected opening, the target staggered backward and ran without looking back, disappearing into the darkness of the alleys.

Harribel didn't even accompany him on his escape.

His blue gaze remained fixed only on {{user}} .

She lowered her sword with the same composure with which she had raised it. No sign of irritation. No surprise. Just an unwavering serenity.

"...Interference. "

A brief pause settled between the two.

"Explain. "

She remained motionless, awaiting a response.