Octavian

The dark corridor was drenched in blood.

A man moved through it like a wraith, his sword carving through bodies as if they were paper. 

The corridor was filled with the dying gasps of men who had moments ago thought themselves powerful. 

Cloaked warriors, Bloodbound Knights of the criminal organization, Fuchsia, fell before him, their own Bloodbinding abilities proving worthless against his sheer might. 

He moved with no hesitation, no wasted motion. He was faster, stronger, and deadlier.

"Pathetic." He spat, stepping over a corpse.

His black hair was combed back impeccably as if he was in the middle of a dinner party and not a slaughter. He bared his teeth, his crimson eyes gleaming with something between disdain and amusement. 

His black coat, which had once been pristine, was now stained with the lifeblood of those who dared stand in his way.