Arya looked at the assassin before him—cold, unreadable, his voice like ice.
"I am your death."
Before the assassin could react, Arya drove his knife deep under the man's ribs. The assassin collapsed, still alive but barely breathing. Arya stood over him, watching the fear in his fading eyes.
If this were before, I might have spared your life. But he's already dead… and do you know why I became like this? Because you killed her. Now, I am death to all of you.
With that, Arya pressed his foot against the knife, forcing it deeper. The assassin shuddered, then went still. Dead.
Then—something surged inside him. A strange energy coursed through his veins, sending a shiver down his spine.
"What... is this?" he muttered.
A voice echoed from within. "Because you killed just now. Every kill increases your power. The more you kill, the stronger you become."
Arya smirked. "That's perfect. More kills, more power."
