Page 163 of Black Sea

I slowly turned around. With a heavy heart.

Mornon stood on the first landing of the stairs, resembling an invincible deity in his elaborate, incandescent black armor, the same he wore during our first fight. He already held his broadsword, its dark blade pointing downward, nearly touching the floor.

It seemed to snow more intensely where he was, almost as if his very essence was so cold it unleashed an unspeakable frost. Still, his irises burned like embers, just like that day a thousand years ago, with burning veins spiderwebbing across his face.

There was nothing human left in him. Amlach was gone.

Only the Abomination remained, impenetrable and ruthless and frightening.

He watched with satisfaction as the armor he had given me fit perfectly, and a ghost of a cunning smile curved his lips while his eyes were drawn to the Crystal in the center of my chest.

I seethed with ire and shame and pain.

“Why?” I hissed.

His head canted to the side, a movement as subtle as it was creepy. “Why what?”

His apathetic voice made me clench my fist until I felt my nails dig into my palm. “Why did you murder these people?” I asked through my teeth.

We had always believed he planned to enslave us all, but this massacre showed how unaware we were of his real intentions.

“Humans are nothing but fresh meat,” he replied with an eerie calm. “And my creatures hadn’t eaten in ages. I needed them to regain their strength for the start of my new reign.”

If this was the fate he had bestowed for mortals, I dared not imagine what he had in store for us elves and the remaining witches.

All I knew was that I had to stop him.

I couldn’t linger any longer.

So, as if it were taking me a great effort, I took an attack posture and proclaimed, “You shall not even see the sunset.”

His nostrils flared. “Is that so?”

Next, with an elegant rotation of his free hand, he threw a black-flames scythe at me. A glass barrier radiated from my sword, repelling the curved blade.

Mornon observed with slight surprise as the shield retracted into my weapon, then peered down at the Crystal. “You don’t just have Calien’s powers,” he said, almost to himself. “You also carry the magic of the Elven Spirits.” His gaze snapped to mine, almost making me jump out of my skin. Slowly, he approached me. When he reached the bottom step, he stopped, slightly pulling back his arm with the broadsword as he studied me closely. “But are you really ready to use it?”

I put my faith in him one last time and closed my eyes to prepare myself. To say goodbye.

To my heart.

To my soul.

To the one I loved.

I opened my eyes and looked at Mornon with a resolve that tore me apart. “Yes, I am.”

Suddenly, I swung my sword at his head. He blocked it, and the clash of our blades echoed through the square like an explosion.

His irises and the veins on his face looked like they were burning more intensely. “Then let’s have some fun,” he said eagerly.

A burst of invisible energy shoved me away from him, and I crouched down, trying to claw at the ground with one hand as my boots left two furrows in the snow. I barely had time to lift my head when Mornon’s knee slammed into my face. Ignoring the blood flooding my mouth, I leveraged the momentum to spin with my sword extended. He bent back just enough to avoid the blade, then attacked me relentlessly.

And just like during our first fight, within a few seconds I found myself so overpowered that I had to retreat into the alleys of the upper city.

Because Mornon was more lethal than I was.

His darkness blocked my path several times, forcing me to go down another street, or took the form of scythe-shaped blades that hissed just inches from my throat. Thanks to Calien’s power of foresight, I was able to dodge Mornon’s blows when he vanished and reappeared a blink later in a different spot, but I never got the chance to counterattack.