Shadow Slave

There was a furious battle. Saints and Titans clashed, making the ground shake and the sky shatter. A boundless horde of Nightmare Creatures flowed like a sea of darkness, assaulting the formation of human soldiers. A massive tortoise Echo towered above the battlefield, with a stone fort standing on its impregnable shell.

Mordret fought in the battle. Limited to the power level of an Awakened, he drowned in the tide of abominations, slaying one after another as he protected the lives of his fellow warriors. Thanks to his swift sword, none of the members of his cohort fell. They were victorious.

After the battle, awash in the blood of Nightmare Creatures, his companions looked at him with triumphant glee.

"Warren! Gods... I almost lost my arm. If it wasn't for you..."

"We showed them, didn't we?"

"I thought I would die there, for a moment..."

Mordret looked at them and shook his head.

"Get a grip and act with decorum worthy of the warriors of Valor. Especially you, Varo! Lady Morgan and Saint Madoc are with us. Of course, we won..."

He returned to the temporary camp with the rest of the Valor Awakened, washed the grime of the battle off himself, and attended to his duties. There was a lot to be done.

At some point, Mordret found himself ascending the carapace of the tortoise Echo to deliver an important message to his commanders. A beautiful young woman with black hair and vermilion eyes appeared to guide him through the wards. He stood a little straighter at the sight of her. It was Morgan, of course. His sister.

His uncle was also there, as domineering and dangerous as he remembered.

"Is there news, Squire Warren?"

Mordret pretended to be starstruck by the fact that Morgan knew his name as he imagined slowly dismembering and killing her. That was a nice thought.

He bowed, and then said with deep respect in his voice:

"We received word from Knight Shtad, my lady. His cohort had survived the second night and secured a fortified position. Their report indicates that the divination seems to have been correct."

His sister sighed and asked:

what about the rest of

grief-stricken by the deaths of fellow warriors of Valor as he hoped that their deaths were slow, gruesome, and

forced to enter the Seeds, my lady. However, now that we have secured several entry points... the next cohorts we send will

His uncle finally spoke:

this phase of the conflict. Warren... tell your men to prepare. Once we return to the siege capital, I will personally transport you to the desert. You must succeed at any cost. If my

the urge to

His sister smiled.

look so much like him?

would I? Squire Warren has a sharp blade, and his comrades are

'Oh... well said...'

of zealous devotion on his stolen face and a pinch of exhilaration into his stolen

honor me, Lady Morgan! Sir Madoc...

pride, he struggled against the desire to rip them apart

Uncle... let's meet again

to be a loyal warrior of Valor both in Antarctica and Bastion... that was another

great Citadel, but doing so would reveal his true identity, of course. Well... spending time in his family castle was interesting, too. Even if being within his father's Domain

Mordret's own power as a Master restrained, but the meager powers Warren possessed were not nearly enough to protect

much safer. However, that was exactly what his

worn a mundane person, but such a

kind of body is

he had spent as a disembodied reflection while walking

time, Mordret was playing the role

politely on the hatch of the vehicle and cleared his throat, then said

of the Fallen, Ascended Sunless. Lady Morgan is inviting you to join her

of familiar faces

reserved, but at the same time much

to kill him on several occasions, the devious little waif somehow

was such an interesting fellow... and a Divine

Mordret really wanted to rip the young man apart because of

a bystander in the crimes of the