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She had slain more dangerous humans, too.

Amiran's warriors were valiant and skilled, each at the very pinnacle of what an Awakened could achieve. Numbers were on their side - and yet, for each messenger of Song that fell, two of Valor's dogs died.

Their trap had turned out to be strangely clumsy and inefficient. By now, Morrow knew that there was a possibility of victory - unless the enemy received reinforcements soon, they would be able to escape.

And carry out the plan.

However...

She was missing something.

Which was why Morrow allowed her attention to wander. Being distracted in a fight against someone like Amiran was tantamount to suicide... but she did so nevertheless.

Her blade failed to reach the Knight's armor again.

Her body received several ghastly wounds because of her inattention.

More and more Awakened died around them.

But Morrow coldly continued to observe.

And then, she saw it - a warrior of Valor, falling down with a pained scream, blood streaming from his torn neck.

Only there had been no one near to tear it.

It was subtle and almost unnoticeable in the havoc of the battle, but she saw it clearly. The nearest of her soldiers was too busy defending against two powerful Awakened. It could not have been a ranged attack, either - the angle was all wrong.

It was as if darkness itself reached forth and sliced the man's throat open with sharp claws.

Morrow's eyes darted to the opposite side of the formation, just in time to see one of Song's Awakened die. His hand suddenly bloomed with blood, and so, the attacking soldier of Valor received a chance to plunge her weapon into the slit of his visor.

The hand of her subordinate had been severed completely - a clean, fierce cut that sliced through armor, flesh, and bone as if not meeting any resistance.

Only... the weapon that had killed her man was a spear. There was no way it could deliver a cut like that.

Morrow suddenly felt cold.

'There is... there is another here.'

There was someone - something - insidious and sinister moving unseen through the darkness, slaughtering the men of both Valor and Song indiscriminately. Silently. Inescapably...

The image of a severed head rolling from the dark entrance of the tunnel suddenly surfaced in her mind.

Morrow's blood turned to ice.

Who was it? What was it?

What... what had they unleashed from that darkness?

Shaking these infantile thoughts, she snarled.

'Does it matter?'

It did not... whatever it was, she would destroy it, just like she was going to destroy these wretched minions of the King of Swords.

Morrow glanced at Amiran, who was continuing to rain devastating blows on her, blind to what was going on.

'Fool.'

No matter the cost... the plan had to be carried out. She had to salvage what little could be salvaged from this unforeseen situation.

Morrow hesitated for a moment, then pretended to be pushed back by one of his strikes and momentarily lose her balance.

Amiran rushed forward like a frenzied dog, intending to capitalize on the opening. His hammer fell down and landed on her shoulder... in a flash of pain, Morrow heard her bones shatter.

But it did not matter, because in that instant, she was practically face-to-face with the hateful brute.

Morrow opened her mouth...

And shrieked.

As her essence burned, a deafening wail shook the underground factory.

***

Clutching his ears - an irrational gesture, considering that they were covered by the steel of his helmet - Amiran fell to the ground and wreathed in pain. His whole world was pain. It was as though a white-hot screwdriver was being driven into his brain, mercilessly destroying every thought.

He felt blood streaming from his ears.

'What... is that woman...'

He knew that Morrow would not let the chance to finish him off go. Shaking off the agony, Amiran gritted his teeth and moved.

A split second later, the tip of a narrow blade was almost at his throat. He raised a hand and grabbed it with an armored gauntlet.

"...Too slow, witch."

He couldn't even hear his own voice through the ringing in his ears.

Amiran had managed to stop the fatal strike from killing him, but the position he was in still promised nothing good. He was kneeling and dazed, while the enemy was free to attack however she wished.

But strangely... Morrow did not attack.

Instead, she let go of her blade and dashed back, toward the formation of her Awakened. There was blood flowing from her mouth.

He looked in that direction.

The diabolical wail Morrow had unleashed devastated the whole production hall. There were slabs of concrete falling from above. What little remained of old machinery had been turned into piles of scrap. The floor had become uneven and full of deep cracks.

The Awakened on both sides fared no better. Many were dead - on both sides. Their mouths were opened in silent screams, their faces turned into gruesome paintings of blood by the power of the wicked attack. Even those who wielded Memories meant to protect against just this kind of threat did not escape unscathed.

'What the hell is she trying to...'

Amiran did not know, but he knew that he had to stop the ruthless witch from accomplishing whatever it was she was planning.

He lunged forward, aiming to catch up to Morrow. Luckily, there was not much distance between them, and the Ascended of Song was severely wounded. That last blow he had delivered made a mess of her right shoulder and clavicle...

It was then that Amiran saw it. In the direction where Morrow was running, behind the decimated line of Song's defensive formation...

A massive alloy container that held an enthralled Nightmare Creature inside.

His pupils narrowed.

'I see...'

Amiran understood what Morrow wanted to achieve. She must have abandoned all hope of delivering the abomination to the inner city and wanted to unleash it right here and now. Sadly for her... he would not give her that chance.

He raised his sword, ready to send a wave of force at the back of the escaping woman. But then, a vague silhouette suddenly lunged at him from the side.

Reacting on instinct, Amiran lashed out with his hammer. The attacker dove beneath it and delivered a strike with a sharp, narrow stiletto.

'Pathetic.'

One of Song's worms must have already recovered enough to attack. The Knight of Valor simply moved his arm, shielding those seams of his armor that protected vital organs. All the attacker could do was drive his stiletto between the rerebrace and the couter, and even then just by a centimeter or two - delivering an insignificant wound to his elbow.

The next moment, Amiran counterattacked, forcing the unclear figure to stagger away. The attacker seemed to dissolve into darkness, as if he... she?... had never existed at all.

"Coward!"

Amiran growled and continued his pursuit. What had that cowardly attack achieved? Nothing. Morrow would still not escape.

He prepared to deliver another strike, but then suddenly swayed.

He felt... weak.

Confused and suddenly unsettled, Amiran glanced at his elbow, where a few drops of blood seeped from beneath the impregnable plates of his armor.

The blood... why did it seem almost black?

The Knight's eyes widened slightly.

'...Poison?'

***

A few moments later, jumping over the corpses of her people, Morrow reached the containment cage. She groaned, spitting out a mouthful of blood, and used the only hand she could move to strike at the seal.

There was no complicated procedure to opening the cage. The key to its magical lock was simple - it was blood. Blood of Song.

Morrow's fist left a bloody imprint on the plate of the seal, and it seemed to ignite, burning away in an instant.

The clasps holding the cage closed fell away, and it burst open.

Inside was a creature so ghastly and revolting that anyone would have been terrified to see it.

But Morrow only smiled. She grinned, revealing bloodied teeth.

"Go! Slaughter everyone who is not Song! To the surface!"

The creature unfolded from within the cage and moved, following her command.

But... what was that?

Why was the abomination bleeding?

There were several thin, shallow cuts on its grey hide, seemingly delivered by a blade so sharp as to be perfect.

And its many eyes, why were they not full of hollow obedience?

Instead, they were brimming with something else...

Madness.

Boundless, murderous madness.

And hunger.