Despite the blood leaking from her lips and the tremble in her knees, General Runa stood tall, glaring at Kyle with defiance.
Her body, twisted by divine reshaping and weakened by rejection, was on the verge of collapse. And yet, her voice remained steady.
"I will never kneel. Even if my body gives out, my flame will burn bright for the gods… and for the people who believe in them."
Kyle regarded her with cold eyes, his blade now lowered.
Her spirit was admirable, but ultimately wasted. He didn't bother pointing out that her 'gods' had already abandoned her—her flesh was screaming it for her. Still, she could serve him. One last time.
"You've only got a few hours left. If you're going to burn, then I'll use that spark."
He said calmly, stepping toward her.
Before Runa could respond, Kyle surged forward, swift as a shadow.
