"The Viper of Musillon, is my son?" Lorne murmured to himself, his expression masked by extreme shock and bewilderment: "He's my son?"
Lorne's confusion caused him to momentarily lower his guard.
However, Mathew Bade did not relent, his face marked by deep-seated hatred. The Viper Sword in his hand continued its assault, the blade landing with a clang on Lorne's helmet, sending the separated steel spinning away. The long blade deeply penetrated his flesh, searing like a tongue of fire.
Mathew Bade's immense strength sent Lorne flying off his horse, the curse upon the blade tormenting his soul. His beloved horse neighed and retreated in fear, trying to evade the attack, blood splattering across his face. He attempted to drag his feet to stand up, but waves of nausea and dizziness overwhelmed him.
