The red glow slowly began to spread along the edge of the Soul Sword.
At first it was only a thin line, like a drop of blood sliding across the pure white blade. But it did not stop there.
The red light continued to move, flowing across the sword until the entire edge of the blade carried a faint crimson glow.
White and red mixed together.
The calm light of the soul… and the burning color of pride.
The air around Duke Sant trembled slightly.
Cold wind passed through the sky, carrying small flakes of snow.
Yet the snowflakes that drifted close to the sword seemed to slow down, as if the air itself had grown heavy.
Duke Sant slowly stepped forward.
His body was still covered in blood. His ribs were still broken. Each breath still hurt.
But his steps were steady.
"This is my Genesis Heart," he said quietly.
His voice was calm, but it carried a strange weight.
"Only a few people I have used it against have survived."
He lifted the sword slightly.
