In the shadows of history, beyond the reach of mortal eyes, the Immortals have waged their secret wars, bound by the sacred code: *There can be only one*. "Eternal Duel: Untold Chronicles of the Immortals" brings to light the hitherto unseen sagas o...
The fog was thick as pea soup as Hannah stepped onto the deck of the SS Eternity. The damp air clung to her skin, but it was nothing compared to the weight of centuries that clung to her soul. She was tired, so very tired, of the endless game, the eternal dance of swords and blood.
As the ship pulled away from the docks of Southampton, Hannah leaned against the railing, watching the lights of the city fade into the mist. Her mind drifted, as it often did, to Sarah.
Sarah. The name was a whisper, a caress, a curse. They had been so young when they met, so full of fire and passion. It was in Rome, during the reign of Marcus Aurelius. Hannah, then known as Helena, was a scholar in the Emperor's court. Sarah, born Sabina, was a gladiator, as fierce and beautiful as a lioness.
Their love had been a forbidden dance, stolen moments in the shadows of the Colosseum, whispered promises in the gardens of the palace. But immortality is a burden as much as a gift. As the years turned love twisted, becoming resentment, then bitterness, then pure, seething hate.
Their battles over the centuries had become legend among the immortals. In the dust of the Parthenon, the mud of Agincourt, the snow of Moscow, they had clashed, each seeking to end the other, to claim the prize. But it was a hollow victory, for what is the point of living forever, if all you have is pain?
A scream shattered Hannah's reverie. She spun, hand flying to her sword, hidden beneath her coat. On the deck below, a woman pointed, her face pale with terror. "Pirates!" she cried. "Pirates are coming!"
Hannah rushed to the railing, her keen eyes scanning the dark waves. There, rising from the mist like a specter, was a sleek yacht, knifing through the water towards the SS Eternity. As it drew closer, Hannah could make out figures on the deck, black-clad and armed to the teeth.
A chill ran down her spine as she recognized the figure at the helm. Heidi Reinbach, born in the forests of Germania, her family slaughtered by Roman blades. She was as old as Hannah, and just as deadly.
Heidi had always walked a path of vengeance, striking back at a world that had taken everything from her. And at her side, ever loyal, was Iman Fasil, the immortal assassin, his skills honed by the hashashins of Persia, his blade for hire to the highest bidder.
Chaos erupted on the deck of the SS Eternity as the pirates boarded, swords flashing in the moonlight. Hannah leapt into the fray, her blade singing as it clashed against the cutlasses of the raiders.
She fought her way to the upper deck, where Heidi stood, a smirk on her lips, her sword dripping blood. "Hannah, my dear," she purred. "It's been too long."
"Not long enough," Hannah spat. "What do you want, Heidi?"
Heidi laughed, a sound like breaking glass. "What I've always wanted, darling. Power. And the key to that power is in the vault of this ship."
