In a duel between masters, losing focus like that was a fatal mistake that could never be allowed. Though the "Duke of the Past" had never considered the Red King an equal, a gap had opened in his mind at that moment, leaving a flaw in his defenses. Even the shadow he had become revealed psionic nodes his opponent could attack directly.
King Vellent might have lacked the combat experience to seize this opportunity, but the treasure shields surrounding him were like seasoned, sharp-sensed elite warriors. They took advantage of it at once.
A beam of light, like a dragon's breath, pierced his defensive barrier.
The Aeldari's roar grew weaker and weaker, gradually turning into a desperate groan. "I... I can't fight anymore. I surrender. I... my body is falling apart. I'm too old. I'm just a weak old man. Don't kill me. Please, Your Highness. Have mercy, Duke of the Future. I've always followed your teachings. I..."
His pleas were swallowed by the bright dragonfire. The lightning and shadows all vanished, leaving only the bloodied body of an Aeldari, which slowly crumpled to the ground. His hand twitched, trying to clutch the soil of the plain beneath him, but it grasped at nothing. In the end, he died in silence, filled with endless resentment.
This time, one of the World-Serpent's Lords of Time had truly died.
"So this is how the organization's One Hundred and Thirteenth, the 'Past,' meets his end? Even at the very end, he couldn't leave himself with a shred of dignity!" The youth the Spellbreaker had become gazed at the corpse, and for the first time, a hint of sorrow appeared in his eyes.
"His will to survive rivals that of the death squads recruited from the Helot Sector. That alone is worthy of respect."