Shadow Slave

Chapter 1201

Under the relentless onslaught of rain, blood was being washed off the shattered armor of a beautiful young woman with black hair and vermilion eyes. She swayed, trying to lash out with her cracked sword, but slipped in the mud and fell heavily to one knee.

Her breathing was hoarse, and her lips were painted crimson with blood. Mordret looked much worse than his sister. One of his eyes was gone, turning his face into a grotesque mask. So was one of his hands. His armor was on the verge of collapsing into a whirlwind of sparks, and terrible wounds covered his body, revealing flesh and bone.

And yet, his expression was calm.

'Ah... it hurts... I haven't felt pain like that in a long, long time...'

He was growing weak because of blood loss, his vision turning blurry. But he was so close to his goal... after long, excruciating years, the first true taste of his revenge was so near. So, Mordret took a step forward, and then another. His sword rose. His hand was firm and unshaken.

Morgan looked up at him, and the look in her eyes was sweeter than nectar. Confusion, indignation... and hidden behind them, a hint of fear.

"How... how are you still standing, monster..."

Mordret smiled.

'Barely...'

He knew that his sister was just trying to buy time. Using one of the enchantments absorbed by her

to heal herself, but she couldn't replenish her essence, her focus, and her stamina. She was tired, and that fatigue was only going to get worse. It was going to seep into her bones and into her mind,

dashed forward with a furious growl. Her sword flashed, sharp and cunning, aiming for his neck...

slightly, allowing the sharp edge to cut into his clavicle instead of his neck, endured the blinding flash of pain, and drove his own sword into a crack in her armor.

he swung the bloodied stump of his right hand, hitting her in the temple with the torn edge of the steel vambrace. His sister was thrown back, dazed. Mordret felt

escaped from his lips.

covering the battlefield, he could see what was happening around them. Clan Song... was losing. The titanic worm was

Stalker and Summer Knight were still fighting, both stubbornly refusing to admit defeat. At this rate, both of them would perish, and

to be failing against one of Nether's children that Sunless had somehow

the desire to raise an eyebrow, but he was too weak and tired to do that. '...Dire Fang is dead? Sunless and the Dreamspawn killed a Saint?' This was

strike

brawl... but Mordret liked it more that way.

losing end of the exchange. ...Until he wasn't. At some point, somehow, almost unexplainably, he gained the initiative in this abhorrent dance of theirs. And

wounds he had accumulated, no matter how terribly Morgan hurt him, Mordret was unshaken. His one remaining eye glimmered, reflecting her dwindling confidence.

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she struck the ground

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