The sound of a hiss echoed through the hall, Sunless's blade slicing through the air.
His right foot pushed off the ground, launching his body toward an undead warrior. Sunny twisted his hips, driving the sword into the soldier's torso with greater force.
Cruel Vision pierced through the corpse's abdomen like butter — the prelude to another battle.
Without wasting time, Sunny summoned Serpent and Saint, the shadowy bodies slipping out of his shadow.
'Help me!' he ordered mentally, keeping his gaze fixed on Mordret, imagining what the prince would do next.
Hah...
A dry laugh escaped the young man's lips, clearly disappointed.
'Nothing works? How can I make him listen to me?'
Mordret didn't want to lose more soldiers. With a quick gesture, he ordered them to retreat. His legion had nearly been massacred.
'Think... think... think...'
Then, an idea crossed his mind — something gleamed on the surface of his gray eyes.
'If I can't speak with words... then I'll speak in a way he understands.'
His hand shone brightly. Small white sparks flickered in the air, revealing the form of a beautiful sword — black as coal, with a scarlet hilt and a golden gleam along the blade.
At its base, the symbol of an anvil radiated an aura of majesty.
A Memory of Valor.
Mordret frowned slightly.
His memory wasn't the best. Still, one thing remained clear:
Combat.
That was the way warriors of this world communicated. Especially Sunny, who had held a long "conversation" with Nephis at the end of the Forgotten Shore.
'Let's talk with our swords.'
A shiver ran through his body.
'Are there still remnants of Toshi's flaw?'
Ignoring the discomfort, he raised his gaze to Sunless, who stared back coldly.
"What are you planning?"
Sunny asked, his voice heavy.
Mordret coughed lightly before answering:
"You know, shadow... don't you think it's unfair? Why don't we fight each other and let our soldiers watch? A commander should always stand at the front of his subordinates."
The response came immediately — disbelief and irritation.
"Do you think I'm an idiot? Do I look like someone honorable?!"
"Not at all." Mordret stepped forward. "But... I think you didn't understand."
The dead surrounded Saint and Serpent, opening a direct path to Sunless.
"This wasn't a proposal."
Mordret advanced.
In the blink of an eye, he appeared before Sunless, bringing his sword down in a diagonal strike.
Clang!
The impact echoed. Steel screamed.
Sunless met the attack with precision, deflecting part of the force. In the same motion, he didn't miss his chance.
Sunless's blade found its path toward Mordret's chest, aiming straight for the heart, but the prince only smiled in response, stepping back lightly and narrowly escaping the fatal blow. The two stared at each other for a brief moment, like predators measuring their next move, before moving again almost at the same time, making it clear that words were unnecessary — steel would speak for them.
Another attack came, fast and precise, aimed at Mordret's clavicle. He dodged easily and countered in the same motion, opening a clean cut on Sunless's cheek. The wound was exact, deep enough to bleed… but not a single drop fell.
Mordret's eyebrow rose, curiosity surfacing in the middle of the fight.
"No blood? You're quite interesting."
Sunless took a brief moment to respond, maintaining his stance as their blades clashed again.
"Bleeding is too common."
The clash resumed at full force, the impact of swords reverberating through the hall as the ground trembled slightly beneath their feet. The metallic sound echoed through the corridors, reflecting in the empty eyes of the surrounding corpses, creating an almost ritualistic atmosphere, as if that fight were more than just a simple confrontation.
Meanwhile, the battle around them continued. Saint advanced without hesitation, destroying the dead methodically, while Serpent coiled around the remaining bodies, crushing them with silent brutality. Even so, at the center of the battlefield, something unusual unfolded.
There were moments when the two simply stopped — brief, almost imperceptible interruptions, as if something invisible was being exchanged between them. It wasn't ordinary hesitation, but understanding. As if, in the middle of chaos, they were listening to each other in a way words could never allow.
Mordret wasn't fighting to kill. He ignored clear openings, dodged blows that could have been fatal and, above all, controlled his own strength. There was intention in every movement, but not the intent to destroy — rather, to convey something.
Their gazes met again, and this time Mordret spoke, his voice rising amid the clash of blades.
"Sunny… you want to be rich, don't you? I can give you that."
Sunless didn't respond, continuing to press forward with precise strikes, forcing Mordret to step back slightly.
"And power? I can help you grow stronger."
Once again, silence. The answer came only as a lateral slash that struck Mordret, tearing his clothes and marking his skin. Even so, he only smiled, completely ignoring the pain.
"I could have killed you before, when you were unconscious… but I didn't."
The exchange of blows slowed for a moment, and Sunny stepped back, his eyes narrowing as something finally clicked in his mind.
'He's not trying to kill me… Why?'
"I can't understand you," Mordret continued, spinning his blade lightly before advancing again.
"Why don't you want to trust me?"
Sunny answered with a horizontal strike, tearing even more of his opponent's clothing before speaking, his breathing heavy but controlled.
"Trust isn't bought… it's earned."
A low laugh escaped Mordret, almost amused.
"Funny hearing that from someone like you… someone who understands better than anyone the value of trust."
He ran his tongue across his lips, his eyes gleaming strangely.
"Trust is blind, you know?"
For a brief moment, Sunny hesitated. It wasn't long, nor obvious, but enough.
Around them, Saint and Serpent had already eliminated almost all enemies. The initial plan to buy time had been fulfilled… but something had changed in the process.
Mordret's attacks.
The intention behind them.
Everything pointed to something different from what Sunny had expected.
"You want my trust," he finally said, lowering his blade slightly, without fully dropping his guard.
Mordret stopped.
"But I'm not going to give you that… yet."
The silence that followed was heavy, and even the few remaining dead ceased their movements, as if the battlefield itself acknowledged the shift.
Saint and Serpent also stopped.
Sunny raised his sword again, but not in attack.
"But if what you want is a temporary alliance… maybe we can negotiate."
Mordret observed him for a few seconds, as if evaluating every detail of that decision, until a genuine smile appeared on his face.
"That works too."
The sword in his hand dissolved into small sparks of light, dissipating into the air, as he extended his hand toward Sunless.
There was a moment of hesitation.
But only one.
Sunny shook his hand.
"It'll be a pleasure doing business with you," Mordret said, his tone carrying a slight trace of amusement.
"Likewise," Sunny replied, still tense, ready to react to any suspicious movement.
At that moment, a slow creak echoed through the hall, breaking the newly formed balance. A door opened in the distance, revealing a new presence and, with it, a subtle — yet undeniable — shift in the atmosphere.
A blonde young woman entered, blindfolded, her soft steps echoing through the silent environment. Even without sight, there was something in the way she moved that made it clear she knew exactly where she was… and, more importantly, where they were.
Her face remained calm, but her voice, when it finally sounded, carried a strange weight, almost suffocating.
"You…"
She paused briefly.
"You're not the real Mordret, are you?"
And once again, silence took over the temple.