The Last Blade-Sparda Vs. Drifter

The full moon shone brightly, covering the old stones in it's waxy light. The wind stirred gently through the open windows, blowing small whirlwinds of dust across the flooring. Faintly, footsteps clicked. They came closer, and eventually gave way to a source-Sparda stepped from behind a pillar, entering through the long hallway. He slowly looked up the throne room both ways, before stepping to the red carpet which gave way to the epic chair.

The wind stirred his ropes around him, and knocked his silver-white hair into his eyes. He brushed it aside, and layed a hand onto the hilt of his sheathed Katana. It glowed faintly, it's primitive sentience noting the environment and sensing what was to come. It was not patient, and quickly hungered for blood.