Ann was an 8-Star Spirit Lord, someone he had no chance of defeating, especially in such a passive position. If she wanted to kill him, he was dead—he thought.
As he swallowed his saliva in silence, she removed her dagger from his neck, leaving a subtle cut, not deep enough for him to bleed, but enough to remind him of it for a few days.
"Your confidence isn't as high as I initially believed," she teased, stepping closer to him and speaking softly near his ear. "But that approach won't win me over. I much prefer a man who takes charge, grabbing me by the hair and pinning me to the ground."
Surprised by what he heard, he looked at her sideways, taken aback that such words came from this angelic-looking woman.