A sudden chill spread across the battlefield, and a moment later, the darkness that had been pushed back by the sea of soft radiance seemed to grow deeper and darker, consuming the pure white light.
Far away from where Rain was shivering in the cold, the King of Swords stood above a fearsome black mask that lay on the ground. The merciless sunlight was pouring from the torn veil of clouds, and so, he remained motionless, his sword still reaching toward the enemy who had turned to ash.
His face was expressionless, but there was a hint of unease in his steely grey eyes.
The Lord of Shadows was gone, killed not by an enemy's blade, but by his own hand…
And yet, his shadow remained.
A disembodied shadow was a strange sight to behold, but it was the mask that made the King wary.
Laying atop the forlorn shadow, the fearsome mask stared back at him, impenetrable darkness nestling in its eyes…
And then, it trembled.
