Arkhan did not speak immediately. He reached down and touched the hilt of his massive greatsword, which pulsed with dark energy. A faint memory stirred in his cold heart, a memory of a time when he too believed in the light, when he too fought for hope.
The girl screamed and charged, her blade leaving a streak of gold in the darkness. Arkhan met her strike. The collision of light and dark created a shockwave that sent soldiers on both sides stumbling backward. Arkhan
Arkhan looked down at her, and then at his own hands, covered in the blood of countless battles. He realized that if he killed her, he would simply continue this cycle of endless war forever. He was tired. So very tired. Arkhan did not speak immediately
"No," Arkhan said softly. "The world has had enough of conquerors." The girl screamed and charged, her blade leaving
Arkhan paused, looking at the young hero. He saw in her the same burning passion he had possessed centuries ago. For a fleeting second, he felt a pang of something he hadn't felt in ages: regret. He raised his heavy blade.
With a powerful overhead smash, Arkhan shattered her guard and sent her sprawling to the ground. Her sword flew from her grip, landing in the shallow river water. Arkhan stood over her, the dark energy of his blade crackling.