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...'

going to engage 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 as heavily

focus, and her stamina. She was tired, and that

than that. His sister gathered what little remained of her strength and dashed forward with a furious growl. Her sword flashed, sharp and cunning, aiming for his neck... Mordret knew that he wouldn't

his torso slightly, allowing the sharp edge to cut into his clavicle instead of his neck, endured the

do anything, he swung the bloodied stump of his right hand, hitting her in the temple with the torn edge of the

sigh escaped from

battlefield, he could see what was happening around them. Clan Song... was losing. The titanic worm was battered and mutilated, but three out of the four of his Reflections had already

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

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

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 a terrible, disastrous piece of news, but he couldn't help

cruel strike of his sword. There was more pain, and it was suddenly hard for him to

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

sister was still refusing to give up. They clashed several more times, and each time, Mordret was on the losing end of the exchange. ...Until he

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

Here's the continuation of the text formatted

she struck the ground with her