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...'

of the enchantments absorbed by her body, she was trying to heal herself - her wounds were already closing, and she

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

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

the sharp edge to cut into his clavicle instead of his neck, endured the blinding flash of pain, and drove his own

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

sigh escaped from his lips.

losing. The titanic

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.

one of Nether's

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

a cruel strike of his sword.

royal descendants. It was simply a brutal, graceless, vicious brawl... but Mordret liked it more that way. It was much more

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. And once

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

of the text

struck the ground with

The Novel will be updated daily. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

Comments ()

0/255