West remained on one knee, breathing heavily with his chest rising and falling in rough bursts as blood dripped from the corners of his lips. The massive black sword stood embedded into the stone floor before him with dark mist curling slowly upward like ghostly tendrils.
He leaned against it for support as every part of his body screamed in agony.
His ribs throbbed and the frost creeping beneath his skin from earlier strikes still gnawed at his nerves like biting ice.
For several long seconds, he let the noise of the chamber die around him before lifting his head slowly toward the throne.
His brows furrowed upon noticing that the throne… was empty.
The being that had been sitting there earlier, watching everything unfold like some detached monarch overseeing a spectacle... was gone.
West's heart sank.
"That's… not good."
A scraping sound echoed through the chamber continously causing West to slowly looked around.
