The blade unraveled like made from string, thought it stayed in the position no matter the force until the wielder let it off. The trees rustled, bushes swayed. Wind blew, clouds traveled. All was moving, but the blade stayed perfectly still. The wielder never moved. A bounty hunter, the best of them all, paid from the dark web and back alleyways. She is what he came for. A powerful magic user, one of the last, the kingdom was trying to save the magic, to use them and harness it. The combatants in the shadows did not want their rivals to take advantage. They wanted them all gone. Every. Last. One. She was smart, she hid for as long as she could, 15 years since her power was discovered, and fought after. Yet, "Her wits were no match to my blade." I told the master.