Shadow Slave

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...'

in a lengthy conversation with her - not yet. He knew that his sister was just trying to buy time. Using one of the enchantments absorbed by her body, she was trying to heal herself - her wounds were already closing, and she was not bleeding nearly

and her stamina. She was tired, and that fatigue was only going to get worse. It was going to seep into

dashed forward with a furious growl. Her sword flashed,

clavicle instead of his neck, endured the blinding flash of pain, and drove his own sword into a crack in her

stump of his right hand, hitting her in the temple with the torn edge of the steel vambrace.

long sigh escaped from his

veil of rain covering the battlefield, he could see what was happening around them. Clan Song... was losing. The titanic worm was battered and

wearing Whispering Blade's face - was not going to last much longer, either. Saint Madoc himself was close to prevailing in his harrowing battle against Beastmaster. Silent Stalker and Summer Knight were still fighting, both stubbornly refusing to admit defeat. At this rate, both of them would perish, and even if the taciturn daughter of Ki Song prevailed, she wouldn't be able to continue participating in the

of Sir Gilead seemed to be failing against one of Nether's children that Sunless had somehow made his.

tired to do that. '...Dire Fang is dead? Sunless and the Dreamspawn killed a Saint?' This was a terrible, disastrous piece

tried to stand up, and he pushed her into the mud again with a cruel strike of his sword. There was more pain, and it was suddenly hard for

their clash looked nothing like a noble duel between two royal descendants. It was simply a brutal, graceless, vicious brawl... but Mordret liked it more that way. It was much more sincere. Much more honest. Why would murder look pretty when

more times, and each time, Mordret was on the 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.

His one remaining eye glimmered, reflecting her dwindling confidence. And then, after a while,

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she struck the