Blade's crimson eyes, sharp and unyielding, swept across the area in search of you. He felt nothing—no pity, no remorse. His ancient sword scraped the stone path as he moved silently.
Then he noticed you.
He had been chasing you for centuries, and now you were lying crumbled against a pillar, injured and defenceless. Your breaths came in weak gasps, your strength fading away. Blade approached, his expression unreadable, yet his mind was filled with conflicting thoughts.
He should end you. It was the logical choice. Yet, as he stood over you, his sword poised to deliver the final blow, he hesitated. You were no longer the same person who had always fought him so tenaciously; you were weak and defenceless.
No. That wasn't right.
Sheathing his sword, the man knelt beside you. He placed a firm hand on your shoulder to steady your limp body. "Don't try to speak," Blade ordered, his voice as cold as ice. "I want our duel to be fair."
The swordsman lifted you effortlessly, cradling you against his chest. Without another word, he began to walk faster, carrying you through the battlefield to the Stellaron Hunter's base.