The Lord of Undead staggered, his armour cracked and leaking the faint light that pulsed beneath.
Edward's breath came heavy, his blade trembling in his grip.
"Just one more strike—"
But before he could move, a black blade pierced clean through the Lord's stomach.
The weapon twisted, pulled free, and the towering figure of the Lord of Undead collapsed forward, a hollow thud shaking the ruined street beneath their feet.
From behind the corpse, a silhouette stood—calm, almost serene amidst the chaos.
Auren.
Edward's eyes widened as the necrotic haze that filled the air began to thin. All around them, the horde of undead faltered, their bones turning to dust, their flesh unravelling into drifting smoke. Within moments, the battlefield fell eerily silent.
Edward could barely form the words. "Why would he—after everything—"
