The sword's weakness was the Healer's blood,
The power it holds must be feeble enough for the blood to smear,
Qing Long's hands were shaking, trying to stop it as soon as possible.
But in that moment, I was bleeding out, dying.
***
THE YEAR 1904, a century away from the present time.
It was his only weakness. His fragile trait that no one could witness.
The doors slid open, and the two stupefied bodyguards appeared. Their mouths were wide open, and they staggered. The half of the sword's blade was inside Her Highness's body!
"Your Highness!" They both wailed. Qing Long's tears streamed down his cheeks. He fell down on the ground. He's the one to blame. The guards sprinted up inside the chamber. The shaded glow of the lights illuminated the blood that spurted out from Althea's body.
