There was a furious battle. Saints and Titans clashed, making the ground shake and the sky shatter. A boundless horde of Nightmare Creatures flowed like a sea of darkness, assaulting the formation of human soldiers. A massive tortoise Echo towered above the battlefield, with a stone fort standing on its impregnable shell.

Mordret fought in the battle. Limited to the power level of an Awakened, he drowned in the tide of abominations, slaying one after another as he protected the lives of his fellow warriors. Thanks to his swift sword, none of the members of his cohort fell. They were victorious.

After the battle, awash in the blood of Nightmare Creatures, his companions looked at him with triumphant glee.

"Warren! Gods... I almost lost my arm. If it wasn't for you..."

"We showed them, didn't we?"

"I thought I would die there, for a moment..."

Mordret looked at them and shook his head.

"Get a grip and act with decorum worthy of the warriors of Valor. Especially you, Varo! Lady Morgan and Saint Madoc are with us. Of course, we won..."

He returned to the temporary camp with the rest of the Valor Awakened, washed the grime of the battle off himself, and attended to his duties. There was a lot to be done.

At some point, Mordret found himself ascending the carapace of the tortoise Echo to deliver an important message to his commanders. A beautiful young woman with black hair and vermilion eyes appeared to guide him through the wards. He stood a little straighter at the sight of her. It was Morgan, of course. His sister.

His uncle was also there, as domineering and dangerous as he remembered.

"Is there news, Squire Warren?"

Mordret pretended to be starstruck by the fact that Morgan knew his name as he imagined slowly dismembering and killing her. That was a nice thought.

He bowed, and then said with deep respect in his voice:

"We received word from Knight Shtad, my lady. His cohort had survived the second night and secured a fortified position. Their report indicates that the divination seems to have been correct."

His sister sighed and asked:

"Finally, some good news... what about the rest of the scouts?"

Mordret pretended to be grief-stricken by the deaths of fellow warriors of Valor as he hoped that their deaths were slow, gruesome, and excruciating.

"Lost or forced to enter the Seeds, my lady. However, now that we have secured several entry points... the next cohorts we send will survive, honoring their sacrifice."

His uncle finally spoke:

"The most important thing right now is to reinforce Shtad. His mission might very well decide the outcome of this phase of the conflict. Warren... tell your men to prepare. Once we return to the siege capital, I will personally transport you to the desert. You must succeed at any cost. If my niece does not object, of course."

Mordret held back the urge to smile.

His sister smiled.

...Why did she look so much like him? It was a little unnerving.

"Why would I? Squire Warren has a sharp blade, and his comrades are the same. They will bring clan Valor glory."

'Oh... well said...'

Holding back a bright smile, Mordret put an expression of zealous devotion on his stolen face and a pinch of exhilaration into his stolen voice:

"You honor me, Lady Morgan! Sir Madoc... we won't let you down!"

Beaming with pride, he struggled against the desire to rip them apart and turned around.

'Ah. Sister, Uncle... let's meet again soon.'

A few days passed. Mordret continued to play the role of Squire Warren faithfully. He had communicated with Seishan through the mirrors, but other than that, his time was spent pretending to be a loyal warrior of Valor both in Antarctica and Bastion... that was another hardship of taking an Awakened body. He was not free from being pulled into the Dream Realm every time he slept.

Mordret could sever the tether that connected Warren to the great Citadel, but doing so would reveal his true identity, of course. Well... spending time in his family castle was interesting, too. Even if being within his father's Domain was dangerous. He was forced to be exceedingly careful.

The other disadvantage of wearing an Awakened body was that it made him vulnerable. Not only was Mordret's own power as a Master restrained, but the meager powers Warren possessed were not nearly enough to protect him.

Wearing the body of a Master, or even a Saint, would have been much safer. However, that was exactly what his family was expecting, so settling for a powerless Awakened was a form of camouflage in and of itself.

Mordret would have even worn a mundane person, but such a vessel was not in line with his goals.

'Really, having any kind of body is enough.'

He reluctantly remembered the long years he had spent as a disembodied reflection while walking to a particular APC.

This time, Mordret was playing the role of a messenger.

He knocked politely on the hatch of the vehicle and cleared his throat, then said solemnly:

"Lady Song of the Fallen, Ascended Sunless. Lady Morgan is inviting you to join her in the head vehicle at your convenience."

A couple of familiar faces emerged from the APC.

Sunless had changed a bit. His sullen disposition seemed to have turned more reserved, but at the same time much darker. Mordret had to hold himself back from smiling.

That guy... even though Mordret had tried to kill him on several occasions, the devious little waif somehow managed to survive. Sunless had even ruined his painstakingly prepared and arduously realized plans in the Nightmare.

Nevertheless, Mordret was strangely fond of the prickly Shadow. Sunless was such an interesting fellow... and a Divine Aspect holder, no less.

Although Mordret really wanted to rip the young man apart because of what had happened in the Ivory City, he also felt reluctant to.

Sunless was a bystander in the crimes of the Domains, after all.

The second person, though...

Mordret's eyes grew slightly cold when he saw the beautiful oracle.

'That one...'

Song of the Fallen stood on the side of Valor, but more than that, she was... problematic.

If Mordret had known what a nuisance she would become when first sensing her presence in the Night Temple, he would have made more of an effort to eliminate the oracle a few months later, when she returned to the Citadel with Sunless.

But now, he had to be wary of her potent divination powers. The painful ritual he had performed in Nether's tower was supposed to shield him from Cassia's gaze, among other things, but one never knew what a wielder of a Sacred Aspect was capable of.

Sunless threw a dark look at Mordret and shook his head. It seemed that he was still not fond of the servants of the great clans... despite spending time in the company of a Seneschal...

'Good for you, Sunless! Stay that way...'

Mordret put on a neutral expression and kept a respectful silence while he escorted the two to the head vehicle of the column. After the guards let them inside, his task was over.

He did catch a glimpse of Changing Star through the opened hatch, though. The last daughter of the Immortal Flame clan was beautiful, cold, and enigmatic...

Even after observing her through the mirrors, Mordret did not know what to make of her.

He would have believed that she was just what people thought her to be - a picture of a noble Awakened warrior, a valiant hero fully committed to defending the waking world from the terrors of the Nightmare Spell - if not for the fact that the supposed hero was, in fact, a Dreamspawn.

And Dreamspawns were never what they seemed.

Since Changing Star had been adopted by his family, she was going to have to die, as well.

However, Mordret did not hate her.

He was also certain that the old man had plans for the last descendant of Immortal Flame.

So... that could be of use to him in the future, as well...