Ghislaine Dedoldia Tied Up

They thought rough ropes could hold me down—how laughable. The way this rope bites into my flesh actually reminds me of the days back on the training ground when my master knocked me down again and again with a wooden sword. Pain was never the enemy—numbness is. The kidnappers probably don't know that I'm measuring the dimensions of this room with every breath, memorizing the rhythm of every footstep with my ears. When the time comes—I'll make them understand that the title of Sword King wasn't earned with a blade.