Though the Scourge is dormant, the devastation it's wrought on Ardyn's mind remains. And now, caught halfway between memories and reality, with no way to keep his inner balance that usually lets Ardyn at least pretend to be human... If he could still think, he would find it strange - and infuriating - that Somnus would move to break his chains. But he doesn't think, daemonic hatred drowning out everything, and the only thing Ardyn is aware of is that he has some more freedom of movement now. Blindly, he makes a grab for his sword again, scrabbling for the hilt even as the remaining chains dig deeper still.

Closing his fingers over the hilt gives Ardyn some feeling of control, at least, a chance to start thinking. Some rationality returns, and because of it he doesn't immediately lunge at Somnus, but tries to hack off the rest of the chains to give himself room to move -- but once he's (reasonably) free he lashes out with another broad sweep of his sword. Yet fortunately for Somnus, Ardyn's returned mortality does play against him: despite the fury he puts into the swing, it misses; a heavy blade is complicated enough to wield in normal circumstances, and even more so with a pierced arm and injured torso. Feeling himself vulnerable, Ardyn shrinks back, half-crouched in defense and exhaustion, still growling like a beast, the black ichor of the Scourge oozing from his wounds. His eyes do not leave Somnus's figure, and even through the pain he tries to hold his blade at the ready to deflect whatever attack might be coming. A sad sight in its way, and a far call from the compassionate healer of the people he once was.