Chapter 1183: One Short Word
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Chapter 1183 One Short Word
Six Reflections... six Transcendent Beasts. All assuming the shape of the Saints of the great clans.
Sunny felt cold as he looked at the smiling faces of the simulacrums. ...And Mordret's face. The rest of the emissaries seemed just as shaken as he was, even if some managed to hide their emotions better than others.
The representatives of Valor were, understandably, grim. Even Morgan's composure cracked for a split second, revealing a hint of weakness. Saint Cor's pale face grew even more ashen. But even the Saints of Song appeared startled by Mordret's unexpected show of power. It seemed that they did not know the extent of his abilities as well as they had thought they did.
For a few long moments, there was nothing but chilling silence. Then, Morgan spat, her voice full of contempt: "Am I... am I supposed to be impressed? What a... neat trick. Bravo."
Mordret's smile only widened.
It was at that moment that Wake of Ruin finally took a step forward and spoke: "Enough! What madness is this?"
The emissaries of the two clans looked at him with unfriendly expressions. Mordret did, too, and the six Reflections turned their heads in perfect synchronicity. The sight of them acting that way was deeply disturbing, especially since the mirror creatures wore familiar, smiling faces.
Wake of Ruin scowled, and the subtle scent of slaughter that always followed him intensified. "I won't pretend to have authority over your actions, Awakened of Song and Valor, but I am your elder. No matter what benefits you hope to receive from this battle, I know that your losses will be much greater. You know it too! This world of ours has withstood five decades of the Nightmare Spell, and your families rose from that chaos. The reason they have endured while countless others were destroyed is not strength - there were others who possessed strength - but foresight and restraint. So, lower your swords!"
His grating voice echoes above the plain, making the mighty Saints of the great clans listen. Even Madoc, the oldest and most powerful among them, seemed to have some respect for Saint Cor, who came from the First Generation.
Still, Whispering Blade was not someone who lowered his head. "...This conflict won't be decided with words, Wake of Ruin. Too much is at stake."
Saint Cor gritted his teeth. "Ah, yes. The rulers will it, so blood must be spilled. However, you are not barbarians. You are the Legacy Clans, so act like it. Don't you have traditions and protocols for just these kinds of situations? The honorable duel, to death if need be. Why waste the lives of your kin and soldiers when the quarrel can be resolved by two champions?"
He glared darkly at Madoc and Beastmaster, and then said: "Or are you not certain of your strength?"
His words seemed to have an effect. Sunny held his breath, not even daring to think whether a peaceful - comparatively - resolution was really possible. One person dying was infinitely better than numerous Awakened warriors slaughtering each other. So many problems would go away if the damned great clans agreed with the proposal of Saint Cor. He was old and wise, after all. He had seen and survived more than any of them. He must have seen a fair share of such duels, as well.
If only Morgan and Beastmaster were able to swallow their pride and agree to a compromise... However, Sunny just could not see Morgan backing off after being provoked by her brother. She had been waiting for an opportunity to make Song bleed for too long. 'Damnation!'
But if she did... then, following the same logic... wouldn't it mean that Beastmaster had no reason to accept the duel?
Wake of Ruin let out a small, almost unnoticeable sigh of relief and turned to the emissaries of Song. "Morgan of Valor has agreed to be the champion in the honorable duel. Who will your champion be, daughters of Song?"
'Curse it all...' Beastmaster remained silent for a few long moments, looking at Morgan with a soft smile. She seemed to be contemplating something. Then, she answered simply: "No."
That short word sounded like the horn of the apocalypse to Sunny. Wake of Ruin froze: "...What? What do you..." Beastmaster took a step forward, the same soft smile illuminating her stunningly beautiful face. "I said no. There will be no duel. There will be no compromise. There will be no foresight and restraint... no more deals, no more alliances. Only bloodshed. Only war. How does that sound, Morgan? Doesn't it sound nice?"
She might have considered a duel if her side was not overwhelmingly stronger. But with the six Transcendent Reflections Mordret had somehow nurtured, the scales of power between Valor and Song had become tilted too much in favor of Song. In the end, it was those Reflections that made the compromise impossible. Sunny's eyes widened. 'That bastard...'
Wake of Ruin hesitated. "Don't be unreasonable..." However, he was interrupted by Morgan herself: "Enough!"
Her face was pale, but her vermilion eyes burned with sharp, piercing fury. "You want war, worms? Good. I like it! I'll show you war..."
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Chapter 1183 One Short Word
Six Reflections... six Transcendent Beasts. All assuming the shape of the Saints of the great clans.
Sunny felt cold as he looked at the smiling faces of the simulacrums. ...And Mordret's face. The rest of the emissaries seemed just as shaken as he was, even if some managed to hide their emotions better than others.
The representatives of Valor were, understandably, grim. Even Morgan's composure cracked for a split second, revealing a hint of weakness. Saint Cor's pale face grew even more ashen. But even the Saints of Song appeared startled by Mordret's unexpected show of power. It seemed that they did not know the extent of his abilities as well as they had thought they did.
For a few long moments, there was nothing but chilling silence. Then, Morgan spat, her voice full of contempt: "Am I... am I supposed to be impressed? What a... neat trick. Bravo."
Mordret's smile only widened.
It was at that moment that Wake of Ruin finally took a step forward and spoke: "Enough! What madness is this?"
The emissaries of the two clans looked at him with unfriendly expressions. Mordret did, too, and the six Reflections turned their heads in perfect synchronicity. The sight of them acting that way was deeply disturbing, especially since the mirror creatures wore familiar, smiling faces.
Wake of Ruin scowled, and the subtle scent of slaughter that always followed him intensified. "I won't pretend to have authority over your actions, Awakened of Song and Valor, but I am your elder. No matter what benefits you hope to receive from this battle, I know that your losses will be much greater. You know it too! This world of ours has withstood five decades of the Nightmare Spell, and your families rose from that chaos. The reason they have endured while countless others were destroyed is not strength - there were others who possessed strength - but foresight and restraint. So, lower your swords!"
His grating voice echoes above the plain, making the mighty Saints of the great clans listen. Even Madoc, the oldest and most powerful among them, seemed to have some respect for Saint Cor, who came from the First Generation.
Still, Whispering Blade was not someone who lowered his head. "...This conflict won't be decided with words, Wake of Ruin. Too much is at stake."
Saint Cor gritted his teeth. "Ah, yes. The rulers will it, so blood must be spilled. However, you are not barbarians. You are the Legacy Clans, so act like it. Don't you have traditions and protocols for just these kinds of situations? The honorable duel, to death if need be. Why waste the lives of your kin and soldiers when the quarrel can be resolved by two champions?"
He glared darkly at Madoc and Beastmaster, and then said: "Or are you not certain of your strength?"
His words seemed to have an effect. Sunny held his breath, not even daring to think whether a peaceful - comparatively - resolution was really possible. One person dying was infinitely better than numerous Awakened warriors slaughtering each other. So many problems would go away if the damned great clans agreed with the proposal of Saint Cor. He was old and wise, after all. He had seen and survived more than any of them. He must have seen a fair share of such duels, as well.
If only Morgan and Beastmaster were able to swallow their pride and agree to a compromise... However, Sunny just could not see Morgan backing off after being provoked by her brother. She had been waiting for an opportunity to make Song bleed for too long. 'Damnation!'
But if she did... then, following the same logic... wouldn't it mean that Beastmaster had no reason to accept the duel?
Wake of Ruin let out a small, almost unnoticeable sigh of relief and turned to the emissaries of Song. "Morgan of Valor has agreed to be the champion in the honorable duel. Who will your champion be, daughters of Song?"
'Curse it all...' Beastmaster remained silent for a few long moments, looking at Morgan with a soft smile. She seemed to be contemplating something. Then, she answered simply: "No."
That short word sounded like the horn of the apocalypse to Sunny. Wake of Ruin froze: "...What? What do you..." Beastmaster took a step forward, the same soft smile illuminating her stunningly beautiful face. "I said no. There will be no duel. There will be no compromise. There will be no foresight and restraint... no more deals, no more alliances. Only bloodshed. Only war. How does that sound, Morgan? Doesn't it sound nice?"
She might have considered a duel if her side was not overwhelmingly stronger. But with the six Transcendent Reflections Mordret had somehow nurtured, the scales of power between Valor and Song had become tilted too much in favor of Song. In the end, it was those Reflections that made the compromise impossible. Sunny's eyes widened. 'That bastard...'
Wake of Ruin hesitated. "Don't be unreasonable..." However, he was interrupted by Morgan herself: "Enough!"
Her face was pale, but her vermilion eyes burned with sharp, piercing fury. "You want war, worms? Good. I like it! I'll show you war..."
Chapter 1183 One Short Word Six Reflections... six Transcendent Beasts. All assuming the shape of the Saints of the great clans. Sunny felt cold as he looked at the smiling faces of the simulacrums. ...And Mordret's face. The rest of the emissaries seemed just as shaken as he was, even if some managed to hide their emotions better than others. The representatives of Valor were, understandably, grim. Even Morgan's composure cracked for a split second, revealing a hint of weakness. Saint Cor's pale face grew even more ashen. But even the Saints of Song appeared startled by Mordret's unexpected show of power. It seemed that they did not know the extent of his abilities as well as they had thought they did. For a few long moments, there was nothing but chilling silence. Then, Morgan spat, her voice full of contempt: "Am I... am I supposed to be impressed? What a... neat trick. Bravo." Mordret's smile only widened. It was at that moment that Wake of Ruin finally took a step forward and spoke: "Enough! What madness is this?" The emissaries of the two clans looked at him with unfriendly expressions. Mordret did, too, and the six Reflections turned their heads in perfect synchronicity. The sight of them acting that way was deeply disturbing, especially since the mirror creatures wore familiar, smiling faces. Wake of Ruin scowled, and the subtle scent of slaughter that always followed him intensified. "I won't pretend to have authority over your actions, Awakened of Song and Valor, but I am your elder. No matter what benefits you hope to receive from this battle, I know that your losses will be much greater. You know it too! This world of ours has withstood five decades of the Nightmare Spell, and your families rose from that chaos. The reason they have endured while countless others were destroyed is not strength - there were others who possessed strength - but foresight and restraint. So, lower your swords!" His grating voice echoes above the plain, making the mighty Saints of the great clans listen. Even Madoc, the oldest and most powerful among them, seemed to have some respect for Saint Cor, who came from the First Generation. Still, Whispering Blade was not someone who lowered his head. "...This conflict won't be decided with words, Wake of Ruin. Too much is at stake." Saint Cor gritted his teeth. "Ah, yes. The rulers will it, so blood must be spilled. However, you are not barbarians. You are the Legacy Clans, so act like it. Don't you have traditions and protocols for just these kinds of situations? The honorable duel, to death if need be. Why waste the lives of your kin and soldiers when the quarrel can be resolved by two champions?" He glared darkly at Madoc and Beastmaster, and then said: "Or are you not certain of your strength?" His words seemed to have an effect. Sunny held his breath, not even daring to think whether a peaceful - comparatively - resolution was really possible. One person dying was infinitely better than numerous Awakened warriors slaughtering each other. So many problems would go away if the damned great clans agreed with the proposal of Saint Cor. He was old and wise, after all. He had seen and survived more than any of them. He must have seen a fair share of such duels, as well. If only Morgan and Beastmaster were able to swallow their pride and agree to a compromise... However, Sunny just could not see Morgan backing off after being provoked by her brother. She had been waiting for an opportunity to make Song bleed for too long. 'Damnation!' But if she did... then, following the same logic... wouldn't it mean that Beastmaster had no reason to accept the duel? Wake of Ruin let out a small, almost unnoticeable sigh of relief and turned to the emissaries of Song. "Morgan of Valor has agreed to be the champion in the honorable duel. Who will your champion be, daughters of Song?" 'Curse it all...' Beastmaster remained silent for a few long moments, looking at Morgan with a soft smile. She seemed to be contemplating something. Then, she answered simply: "No." That short word sounded like the horn of the apocalypse to Sunny. Wake of Ruin froze: "...What? What do you..." Beastmaster took a step forward, the same soft smile illuminating her stunningly beautiful face. "I said no. There will be no duel. There will be no compromise. There will be no foresight and restraint... no more deals, no more alliances. Only bloodshed. Only war. How does that sound, Morgan? Doesn't it sound nice?" She might have considered a duel if her side was not overwhelmingly stronger. But with the six Transcendent Reflections Mordret had somehow nurtured, the scales of power between Valor and Song had become tilted too much in favor of Song. In the end, it was those Reflections that made the compromise impossible. Sunny's eyes widened. 'That bastard...' Wake of Ruin hesitated. "Don't be unreasonable..." However, he was interrupted by Morgan herself: "Enough!" Her face was pale, but her vermilion eyes burned with sharp, piercing fury. "You want war, worms? Good. I like it! I'll show you war..."
