Shadow Slave

Knight Amiran was forceful and oppressive, his every move bringing with it a promise of death. And yet, neither his sword nor his hammer could reach her. Not even his insidious Aspect was enough to bring Morrow down.

She had slain Nightmare Creatures more dangerous than this Ascended warrior.

She had slain more dangerous humans, too.

Amiran's warriors were valiant and skilled, each at the very pinnacle of what an Awakened could achieve. Numbers were on their side - and yet, for each messenger of Song that fell, two of Valor's dogs died.

Their trap had turned out to be strangely clumsy and inefficient. By now, Morrow knew that there was a possibility of victory - unless the enemy received reinforcements soon, they would be able to escape.

And carry out the plan.

However...

She was missing something.

Which was why Morrow allowed her attention to wander. Being distracted in a fight against someone like Amiran was tantamount to suicide... but she did so nevertheless.

Her blade failed to reach the Knight's armor again.

Her body received several ghastly wounds because of her inattention.

More and more Awakened died around them.

But Morrow coldly continued to observe.

And then, she saw it - a warrior of Valor, falling down with a pained scream, blood streaming from his torn neck.

Only there had been no one near to tear it.

It was subtle and almost unnoticeable in the havoc of the battle, but she saw it clearly. The nearest of her soldiers was too busy defending against two powerful Awakened. It could not have been a ranged attack, either - the angle was all wrong.

It was as if darkness itself reached forth and sliced the man's throat open with sharp claws.

Morrow's eyes darted to the opposite side of the formation, just in time to see one of Song's Awakened die. His hand suddenly bloomed with blood, and so, the attacking soldier of Valor received a chance to plunge her weapon into the slit of his visor.

The hand of her subordinate had been severed completely - a clean, fierce cut that sliced through armor, flesh, and bone as if not meeting any resistance.

Only... the weapon that had killed her man was a spear. There was no way it could deliver a cut like that.

Morrow suddenly felt cold.

'There is... there is another here.'

There was someone - something - insidious and sinister moving unseen through the darkness, slaughtering the men of both Valor and Song indiscriminately. Silently. Inescapably...

severed head rolling from the dark entrance of the tunnel suddenly

turned to

it? What was

had they unleashed from that

these infantile

'Does it matter?'

it was, she would destroy it, just like she was going

who was continuing to rain devastating blows

'Fool.'

to be carried out. She had to salvage what little could be salvaged from this

pretended to be pushed back

forward like a frenzied dog, intending to capitalize on the opening. His hammer fell down and landed on her shoulder... in a flash

in that instant, she was

Morrow opened her mouth...

And shrieked.

essence burned, a deafening

***

his ears - an irrational gesture, considering that they were covered by the steel of his helmet - Amiran fell to the ground and wreathed

felt blood streaming from

'What... is that woman...'

Morrow would not let the chance to finish him

narrow blade was almost at his throat.

"...Too slow, witch."

his own voice

the fatal strike from killing him, but the position he was in still promised nothing good. He was kneeling and dazed, while the enemy was free to attack however

Morrow did

and dashed back, toward the formation

in that

above. What little remained of old machinery had been turned into piles of scrap. The floor had become uneven and full

both sides. Their mouths were opened in silent screams, their faces turned into gruesome paintings of blood by the power

the hell is

had to stop the

them, and the Ascended of Song was severely wounded. That last blow he had

direction where Morrow was running, behind the

alloy container that held an enthralled

His pupils narrowed.

'I see...'

all hope of delivering the abomination to the inner city and wanted to unleash

sword, ready to send a wave of force at the back of the escaping woman. But then, a vague silhouette suddenly

instinct, Amiran lashed out with his hammer. The attacker dove beneath it and delivered a strike with

'Pathetic.'

those seams of his armor that protected vital organs. All the attacker could do was drive his stiletto between the rerebrace and the couter, and even then just by a