1841 Evil Minds That Plot Destruction

Sunny was standing on the edge of the Ivory Island, looking at the sky
above. The Marvelous Mimic was behind him, still pretending to be a
quaint brick cottage — the cottage stood between the grove and the lake, on
the empty stretch of emerald grass to the side of the great pagoda.

The area was quite peaceful, and the view from his window was usually no
less spectacular than it had been in Bastion.

…Of course, that peacefulness was deceiving.

The Ivory Island was high in the air. Far below it, the arm of the dead god
lay heavily on the ashen ground. A long bridge was connecting the humerus
and the radius, which had broken off eons ago... the bridge had been
recently built, and currently, a vast column of warriors was marching across
it, ready to enter Godgrave. A sea of vermilion banners fluttered above like
blood.

The sight of the great army of the Sword Domain was quite daunting.

There were hundreds of thousands of Awakened, numerous Masters, and

dozens of exalted Saints. Such a force had never been gathered in the
history of humankind — or of the waking world, at least. There were
countless mundane humans too, following the warriors in the vast train of
the army.

Funnily enough, this great force had not been assembled to fight against
Nightmare Creatures or other horrors of the Dream Realm. It had been
assembled to wage war against a similar human army that was currently
somewhere far away, on the other side of the titanic skeleton, scaling its
right arm.

In any case, Sunny was not looking down, on the Sword Army. Instead, he
was looking at the sky.
The sky had been blue and clear not too long ago, but now, it was being
slowly devoured by grey clouds. They were finally crossing the realm
boundary — soon, an annihilating white radiance would suffuse the
incandescent heavens and spell fiery doom for anyone caught directly in its
light.

He sighed.

It did not feel safe at all, to be invading Godgrave atop a flying island. No
matter how powerful its enchantments were, the Ivory Island was enormous
and immensely heavy — due to inertia, it would not be able to stop
instantly should the veil of clouds break. Which meant that all of them
would become ash.

'What a way to start a war.'

Technically, the war had already begun. The official declaration had
happened soon after the Ivory Island left Bastion, almost a month ago. Back
then, Nephis and Cassie had been summoned to the waking world... Sunny
had been invited, as well, albeit as the Lord of Shadows, not the Memory
Purveyor of the Fire Keepers.

There was a historic meeting in the stronghold of Clan Valor in NQSC. All
the Saints of the Sword Domain were present, as well as the heads of those
vassal clans that did not possess a Transcendent member at the moment.

What made it historic, though, was not the illustrious company. It was the
fact that the King of Swords himself attended.

Sunny was quite shocked when the doors opened and a heavy presence
suddenly settled in the opulent hall, forcing even the most powerful Saints
to grow stiff and quiet. Of course, his face was hidden behind Weaver's
Mask, so no one was the wiser.

They were seated around a vast round table — which, it seemed, had been
carved from the trunk of a single enormous tree. The table held some
significance, without a doubt... perhaps it was that tree in particular that had
been the source of the abominable forest slain by Anvil of Valor in the past.
In any case, there was an empty seat next to Morgan. Sunny guessed that,
maybe, it had been left empty in honor of Saint Madoc, her uncle — but he
was proven wrong.

As the vast presence enveloped the hall, there was the sound of heavy steps,
and a tall man in dark armor entered, a vermilion cloak draped around his
shoulders.

The man was naturally imposing in a way that made others cower. He was
tall, with broad shoulders and a mighty build. His eyes were grey and cold
like tempered steel, their gaze oppressive enough to make one shudder. His
hair was black, and a full beard obscured the lower part of his austere face.

Despite that, it was impossible to miss how noble and distinguished it was.

The man was supposed to be close to fifty, but did not look a day older than
thirty.

However, the most striking thing about him was not his height, his build,
and his cold grey eyes. It was not even the oppressive force of his
unfathomable, boundless presence.

It was something invisible and intangible. An otherworldly quality that

forced one to look at him, pay attention to him... and want to kneel in front
of him.

This was Anvil, the King of Swords.

Sunny had only seen him once before, from afar. He was still unsure what
barriers there were that prevented the Sovereigns from visiting the waking
world often, and what was the cost of breaking them. All he knew was that,
today, the king had decided to descend into the mortal world.

The rest of the meeting was like a blur.

Anvil did not waste a lot of time, speaking in a calm and concise manner —
as if the very concept of wasting words was offensive to him. It did not
seem like he was trying to explain something to the gathered powerhouses
or wished to persuade them... instead, he was simply stating his will.

His message was clear. The rulers of the Song Domain had conspired to kill
his daughter, and therefore, to harm the Sword Domain. Therefore, he
would assemble an army to march on Ravenheart and tear down Ki Song‘s
throne.

And those present, as his vassals, would become that army.

Sunny was so caught up in the solemn atmosphere and the irresistible

authority hiding in Anvil's deep voice that he almost missed how ironic the
whole thing was.

After all, the representative of the Han Li clan was also at the table. That
was the clan from which Caster, who had been sent to the Forgotten Shore
to kill Nephis, hailed from. The orders to eliminate her in the Dream Realm
had most likely come from the King of Swords.

But now, the very same king was proclaiming war on the pretense of
punishing someone else for trying to assassinate her.

Sunny glanced at Nephis, wondering if she would show any reaction.

And, indeed, she did.

While everyone remained silent, either in agreement with the king or too
wary of his power to raise a futile objection, she was the only one who
spoke.

Nephis advocated against the war.

Her voice was even, and her expression was poised. She calmly listed all
the reasons why a war would be disastrous for both Domains and asked her
adopted father to reconsider.

Morgan seemed amused by the whole sequence of events, while the rest of
those gathered in the hall kept their faces neutral.
In the end, Neph's words were meaningless. Anvil dismissed her objection
with one glance and a few cold sentences.

Everyone here knew that there was no point in trying to defy the
Sovereign's will. Nephis, of course, knew it best of all.

The reason she had spoken out was not a sincere hope that the war could be
avoided. Instead, it was important to do so for an entirely different reason
— there had to be a record of her objecting to Anvil's decision.

There had to be rumors that Changing Star of the Immortal Flame clan had
been against the bloodshed, the waste of human life, and the ghastly
ugliness of the civil war between humans from the very start. Even if it was
all to avenge her against those who had conspired to kill her.

Those rumors were needed to pave a way for her to slay both her adopted
father and Ki Song, and then usurp their thrones without being branded as a
tyrant. When the time came, She had to be welcomed as a savior instead.

Sunny smiled behind his mask.

'What a treacherous world we live in…’

Not long after that, the Sword Domain declared war on the Song Domain.

The news were broadcasted in the waking world, as well as announced by

heralds in the cities of the Dream Realm.

Both worlds seemed to explode.

Sunny was far away from civilization and too busy to observe the
immediate reaction of the people, but it must have been intense. In an
instant, the very foundation of the world was shaken. The government tried
to handle the situation, somehow, but it was powerless against the influence
of the Great Clans.

People in the waking world were terrified and paralyzed by shock. So were
many in the Dream Realm.
There were plenty of those who welcomed the news, though, having been
prepared by meticulous propaganda to feel exactly that way. On both sides,
many were burning with militant zeal, and thirsting to punish the enemy.

And so, two great armies were gathered and marched to war.

It did not happen in a day, but it also did not take a lot of time. The
preparations of the two Sovereigns had been extensive.

…Today, finally, the Sword Army was ready to enter Godgrave.

1842 First Blood

As Sunny watched the sky, there was the sound of light steps behind him.
Then, Nephis approached and stopped by his side, clad in a suit of lustrous
steel armor.

She looked at him and smiled.

Despite the sinister clouds above and the vast army marching to a
calamitous war below, he couldn't help but feel his heart race at the sight of
that smile.

Sunny had read somewhere that people often described this feeling as
having "butterflies in their stomach“. The image of a swarm of Dark
Butterflies tearing at the walls of his stomach seemed more dreadful than
romantic, so he really doubted the literary sense of those people... but, still.

Even though a month had passed since their first kiss, he still felt
excitement every time he saw her.

It was odd and improper, to feel so blessed on the eve of a disastrous war.
But he did.

Life was strange that way.

A smile appeared on his face, as well.

"Do you have enough spare time to visit a humble enchanter today, Lady
Nephis?"

She lingered for a moment, then shrugged.

"I might have a little time..."

With that, she turned her head and looked at the sky, as well.

"Are you worried about the sun?"

Sunny nodded slowly.

"I am indeed a little nervous. Do you think that the clouds will hold until we
land?"

Nephis inhaled deeply.

"Someone will make sure that they do. In fact... she should be arriving any
moment now, actually."

Sunny raised an eyebrow.

Then, a subtle spark ignited in his eyes.

There was the sound of fluttering wings, and a vast shadow fell on the
emerald grass.

A moment later, a woman was standing in front of them. She was tall and
slender, with long hair that fell down like a cascade of pale gold. Her
posture was perfectly straight, and her cold face was dazzlingly beautiful.

The woman was wearing a suit of light steel armor, with pauldrons and
greaves decorated with stylized feathers. The gaze of her stern amber eyes
was piercing and heavy, and a white cloak hung on her back, embroidered
with silver thread.

Saint Tyris had not changed at all.

Sunny was glad to see her... of course, he hid his happiness behind a mask
of respectful unfamiliarity.

Sky Tide bowed slightly.

"Lady Changing Star."

Nephis nodded.

"Saint Tyris."
The two weren't very close to each other, but they had a good relationship
due to what had happened during the Battle of the Black Skull. In fact, there
was probably no Saint among the vassals of Clan Valor with a deeper bond
to Nephis than Sky Tide.

Her clan was also different from how it used to be.

Its status was still far from being favored by the king, but now that Roan
had Transcendent, there were two Saints among the members of the clan.

There were few Legacy families who could boast the same, so that alone
made it impossible to ignore or oppress White Feather.

Much more importantly, Sky Tide's status soared now that the war was
imminent. Her power over winds and clouds made her one of the most
valuable people in Godgrave. . which was a sword that cut both ways.

She was indispensable for the rulers of the Sword Domain, and therefore,
they were forced to treat her nicely now.

On the other hand, she was one of the primary targets for the forces of the
Song Domain. So, Sunny was more than a little bit worried about her.

Nephis, meanwhile, nodded curtly in his direction.

"This is Master Sunless. An enchanter employed by the Fire Keepers."

Saint Tyris looked at him expressionlessly, then frowned a little.

"Master Sunless... your name sounds familiar. Ah. Have my daughter

commissioned a Memory from you?"

He bowed politely.

"Indeed, I had the privilege of fulfilling a request made by Awakened Telle

once."

Sky Tide's expression did not change, but he could swear that her eyes
turned a little warmer.
”I see. That Memory is serving my husband well. Your competence is
worthy of praise, Master Sunless."

With that, she seemed to forget about his existence and looked at Nephis.

”The realm boundary is close. How long will it take the Ivory Island to
reach the target area? ”

Nephis answered neutrally:

"Around an hour, at top speed. Will you be able to hold out for that long, if
need be?"

Sky Tide glanced at the grey sky, lingered for a moment, then nodded.

"I will. I won't be able to assist with anything else, though. “

The immolating sky was not the only threat that waited for them in
Godgrave. It was the most dire one, though, so everything else was beside
the point.

Nephis gestured for Saint Tyris to follow her and headed for the Ivory
Tower.

"We will handle the rest. Allow me to guide you..."

As they were walking away, she threw a poignant look at Sunny.

He smiled and nodded subtly, telling her not to worry about him. As Master
Sunless, he was not supposed to participate in any battles — so, he could
only observe today. It was a strange situation to be in, but he could not
complain.

There would be plenty of battles for him to fight before too long, anyway...
perhaps more than he could handle, even with his seven bodies.

Letting out a heavy sigh, Sunny turned to the edge of the island and looked
down.
At some point, the door of the Marvelous Mimic opened, and Aiko walked
out, yawning as she looked around with sleepy eyes.

Noticing him, the petite girl floated off the porch and flew around the
cottage, eventually landing on the grass near the edge.

She looked down and made a face.

"Damn, boss. There are so many of them. So many potential clients!"

Sunny gave her a dark look.

”Cover your arms."

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Aiko was wearing mundane clothes
— and not even formal ones, at that. Her black t—shirt had some kind of
Nightmare Creature printed on it with a band name written above in bold
letters... which wasn't really a problem, except for the fact that the intricate
tattoo of a snake that coiled around her right arm was almost fully revealed.

She grinned sheepishly and summoned a green Memory tunic.

Sunny hesitated, then said quietly:

"Are you sure you don't want me to bring you away, to the waking world?"

Aiko looked up at him and blinked a few times.

”And miss all the fun... I mean, miss such a historic event? No, thanks.
Plus, I know these guys well. Don't worry, boss, they'll be fine — they have
survived worse."

He stared at her for a few moments, wondering if she would change her
mind after witnessing Godgrave.

In the end, he didn't say anything. Together, they watched as the shoulder of
the colossal skeleton grew closer and closer.
The Ivory Island accelerated, leaving the ascending army far behind. Soon,
the sky was entirely hidden by a veil of clouds, and the air grew warmer, the
daylight changing subtly.

They were heading for the collarbone of the dead deity, where the base
camp of the Sword Army was supposed to be established. And they — the
Fire Keepers — were meant to be the vanguard of the human invasion into
Godgrave.

Their task was not only to clear out the Nightmare Creatures populating the
area and serve as a bulwark that protected the slow advance of the army
from the arm of the titanic skeleton. What they had to do was much more
important.

It was to bring the authority of the King of Swords, and the power of his
Domain, to this cursed land.

Soon, the vast range of the ancient collarbone was beneath them.

The ground was white, but there was barely any of it visible under the thick
carpet of scarlet growth.

Moss, grass, and grotesque towering plants were all red, as if bloody
marrow had exploded from the cracks and fissures in the ancient bone.

Of course, the vermilion jungle was teeming with all kinds of abominable
creatures, all moving and devouring each other in a mad rush to live and
grow in the unknown, but inevitably fleeting amount of time before the veil
of cloud broke, and the merciless sun burned them all to ash.

At such a late stage of infestation, the surface of the dead god's collarbone
was not much safer than the dark expanse of the Hollows, where the true
horrors dwelled. The strange Nightmare Creatures populating Godgrave
would have had enough time to grow immensely strong, reaching the
Corrupted or Great Rank en masse.

The strongest would have already retreated underground, to try and claim a
place for themselves away from the annihilating heavens, but many still
remained.

And now, all their undivided attention was turned to the beautiful island
drifting below the clouds.

Usually, these abominations would have felt nothing but fear when looking
at the terrible sky.

But today, perhaps for the first time in countless years, they felt something
else.

A hunger so deep that it drove them into a state of frenzy.

Immediately, the scarlet jungle seemed to... boil.

Numerous abominations rushed in the direction of the descending island

like a morbid tide. Most of them simply ran, slithered, or crawled, but there
were those capable of soaring into the air, as well.

A vast swarm of Nightmare Creatures rose from the ground to meet the
Ivory Island. It seemed inevitable that the flying Citadel would be
swallowed by the cloud of them.

But then, an imperceptible change spread through the world.

Sunny's eyes narrowed when he recognized the familiar feeling.

Another Component of the Ivory Tower was unleashed, and suddenly, it

was as if a wave of invisible force crashed into the rising abominations,
throwing them down or outright obliterating their hideous bodies. Blood
spilled from the sky like crimson rain.

The tyrannical Crushing had come Godgrave, reaping countless lives in the
first culling of the great Domain War.
1843 Crash Landing on You

The Crushing descended upon Godgrave, flattening a vast swathe of the

vermilion jungle and pressing the Nightmare Creatures into the white
surface of the ancient bone. Its reach was a magnitude smaller than it had
been in the ruins of the Kingdom of Hope… but its force was just as
tyrannical.

The winged abominations that had been rising toward the flying island were
either obliterated or thrown to the ground. A deluge of blood rained down,
and only the strongest and most resilient of the flying horrors managed to
stay in the air. They persisted stubbornly, their eyes full of demented frenzy.

There were terrifying aerial behemoths among them, and nimble creatures
that zipped around on swift, translucent wings.

A moment later, the first arrow streaked down, hitting one of the larger
abominations in the eye and obliterating half of its hideous head.

Sunny looked at the macabre spectacle, feeling his blood boil with a
familiar thrill. He had never thought that he would grow accustomed to the
ghastly crucible of battle one day, but here he was, acting as if he was
addicted to it. He longed to join the bloodshed, but could not allow himself
to. It was the strangest thing.

He could see the Fire Keepers, who were spread out along the edge of the
island, drawing their bows. Some of them were better archers than others,
but each and every one was proficient enough with bow and arrow to be a
lethal presence on the battlefield.

Their Memories were all top-notch, as well — not only because they had
gathered a vast arsenal of them during the long years of defending humanity
from the horrors of the Nightmare Spell, but also because Sunny had
personally tinkered with their equipment in the last month. On top of that,
all these Memories were being enhanced by the Crown of Dawn that
Nephis wore.
A barrage of enchanted arrows unleashed by seven Ascended cohorts was a
dire sight to behold.

The winged Nightmare Creatures that had endured the Crushing were
simply erased from existence, chunks of flesh raining on the scarlet jungle
below. Only one remained — an enormous beast with wings wide enough
to drown the world in their shade. Its frenzied eyes were burning with
chilling malice, and its pale brown hide was dotted with dozens of arrows,
none of it which managed to pierce it deep enough to deal substantial
damage.

The winds groaned as they were torn apart by its mighty wings.

Before the monstrous creature could rise any higher, though, a single fiery
arrow streaked down from the top of the Ivory Tower, piercing its head
clean through. Wisps of white flame escaped from inside its cracked skull.

The massive abomination lost momentum, rolled in the air, and started to
fall down.

The Ivory Island was plummeting from the overcast sky, descending lower
and lower. The closer to the ground it got, the more the jungle was affected
by the Crushing. Many of the Nightmare Creatures that had been pressed
down into the red moss were now flattened into piles of bloody flesh, sharp
shards of bone protruding through the broken skin.

Most were powerful enough to survive, though.

Finally, the speed of the flying island's descent started to reduce.

It was still great, nevertheless, almost uncontrollable — as if the people on

the island were in a rush to reach the ground.

And they were. Because the sky above them was suffused with blinding
glow, and only a thin veil of clouds stood between them and inescapable
annihilation.

"Brace!"
When the shout spread among the Fire Keepers, Sunny gracefully lowered
himself to one knee and put one hand on the grass. Aiko simply floated into
the air, hovering above the ground.

In the next moment, the Ivory Island crashed heavily into the white surface
of the ancient bone.

The dead god's collarbone quaked, and a violent shockwave obliterated a

vast stretch of the vermilion jungle in the vicinity of the impact zone. The
seven chains hanging from the Ivory Island rattled as they struck the
ground. The lake resting on its surface rippled, spilling over its shores, and
the Chain Breaker swayed on the tall waves.

The Ivory Island came to rest, laying tilted on the white expanse of ancient
bone.

The Crushing dissipated.

Down below, countless Nightmare Creatures moved, rising from the

ground. Their bloodshot eyes focused on the figures of the Fire Keepers
looking at them from above.

The cloud of debris raised into the air by the impact had not settled yet
when they started to move, flowing toward the invading island from all
sides.

However, the Fire Keepers were moving, too.

The closest to Sunny was Sid, who had been Neph's driver on the day of the
assassination attempt. Clad in a light armor and armed with a sword and
shield, she stepped up to the edge and looked at the tide of abominations
with a grin.

Then, before the sparks of light swirling around her head manifested into a
helmet, she raised her sword and kissed the flat of its blade.

"Here we go!"
Letting out a battle cry, she jumped down, the plume of her helmet
fluttering in the wind.

All along the edge, those Fire Keepers who were proficient in melee were
doing the same. Those who excelled in ranged combat, as well as those who
usually played a supportive role, stayed above, continuing to send arrows
and sorcerous attacks into the tide of Nightmare Creatures.

Soon, the fastest of the abominations reached the vicinity of the island and
clashed with the advancing Fire Keepers. Sharp steel hissed as it cut into
flesh.

More blood spilled on the sun-bleached surface of the ancient bone.

Sunny observed the battle with burning eyes. The familiar cacophony
assaulted his ears, and he felt his hands itching. Nevertheless, he remained
where he was, playing the role of a non-combatant.

Before the Fire Keepers could drown in the tide of Nightmare Creatures, a
radiant figure shot from the balcony at the top of the Ivory Tower, falling
down like an incandescent meteor.

Nephis landed in the thick of the abominable horde, and in the next
moment, a blinding explosion boomed above the bone plain. A wave of
incinerating flame spread outward from the point of impact, turning
countless Nightmare Creatures to ash.

The Fire Keepers cheered, welcoming their personal deity to the battlefield.

Looking from above, Sunny let out a long sigh.

"Ah, to hell with it…"

Then, he took control of the gloomy and used Shadow Step to send that
incarnation of his far away, under the canopy of the scarlet jungle.
Assuming a corporeal form there, he manifested the Onyx Mantle and
summoned Weaver's Mask.
Then, before any of the rushing Nightmare Creatures could lunge at him, he
stepped through the shadows once again, appearing in the midst of the
battlefield.

An enormous, towering abomination was right in front of him, rising its

terrifying fists to deliver a crushing blow to the ground below.

Reaching into the shadows, Sunny pulled an inky-black odachi out of them,
and then lunged forward.

A dark line was suddenly drawn on the massive body of the Nightmare
Creature. It froze for a moment, its fists still raised above its head…

And then slowly fell apart, bisected down the middle with a single
terrifying slash.

Behind the abomination, a slender young woman with silver hair was
revealed, holding a mirror-like sword.

There was an expression of surprise on her beautiful face.

Grinning behind the mask, Sunny gave her a small bow and said, his cold
voice hiding a hint of dark glee.

"Welcome to Godgrave, Lady Nephis."

With that, he looked around.

"I hope you don't mind the mess…"

1844 On The Other Side

"I think we are all going to die. What do you think, Rani?"

Ray's voice was tinged with melancholy, but Rain had learned to ignore his
complaints in the last few weeks. Sitting on the ground — well, on what
served as ground in this godforsaken place — and leaning her back against
a wagon's wheel, she gave him a relaxed shrug.

The young man stared at her with indignation. After a while, he sighed.

"Have enough decency to look concerned, at least…"

They were currently in the middle of the army camp, resting after a long
and arduous march. It was hard to tell what time of day it was, since there
were no nights in Godgrave. A veil of clouds obscured the sky, shining with
diffused radiance.

It would have been quite pretty if it was not so terrifying.

Everyone had been informed over and over again about the lethal nature of
the sky in this land. They knew that the only way to survive in case the
clouds parted was to remain absolutely still. The army had ascended the
dead god's arm far enough, by now, to fully cross the realm boundary… so,
those warnings were of vital importance.

They had yet to see the clouds break, though.

Rain, Tamar, Ray, and Fleur were among the Awakened warriors of the
Seventh Legion — which was led by the seventh and last daughter of the
Queen to reach Transcendence, Saint Seishan. Granted, Rain barely
remembered how he ended up in such august company. So many things had
happened in the last month that it was all like a blur.

The news about the King of Swords declaring war on the Song Domain had
reached them not long after reuniting with the members of the survey team
in the main construction camp. It was a great shock to many, but not to Rain
herself.
The initial shock was soon replaced by fear and outrage. It was then that
Queen Song left her palace in Ravenheart, appearing in public for the first
time in many years. Rain did not witness it herself, but she was told that the
Queen's speech was incredibly rousing.

It ignited the hearts of the people of Song, so when the call to arms was
issued, countless Awakened warriors chose to answer. The vassals of the
Queen responded to the call, as well, gathering their armies to help defend
the Song Domain against the tyranny of the King of Swords.

Rain was one of those Awakened warriors. She was made a soldier right
there and then, in the construction camp, as a member of Tamar of Sorrow's
cohort.

Tamar's father was leading his own war party, but he sent his daughter to
serve under Song Seishan and her Blood Sisters — Rain wasn't entirely sure
why, but she had no reason to complain.

There were hundreds of thousands of Awakened in the Song Army, but only
seven royal legions. And although Saint Seishan was the last among the
seven Transcendent princesses to conquer the Third Nightmare, her
personal power was in no way inferior to that of her sisters.

So, the Seventh Legion was among the most elite forces in Godgrave,
comparable to the Knights of Valor led by Morgan, the Princess of War.

Rain was honestly unsure how she had ended up here.

'I guess that's the benefit of getting in through acquaintances.'

The weeks between the declaration of war and today were incredibly hectic.
So many things had happened… and yet, one of them stood out as more
bizarre than any other.

It happened immediately after Rain joined the Song Army. She was woken
up in the middle of the night by her teacher, who gestured for her to follow
him quietly. Together, they left the busy camp and walked far into the
wilderness, eventually reaching a secluded gorge.
There, Rain had to stop and rub her eyes, bewildered by what she saw.

Out there, in the middle of the Dream Realm… a quaint brick cottage stood,
illuminated by the pale light of the three moons.

The sight was so strange that Rain assumed that she was seeing things.
However, she was not — there was really a neat cottage standing in the
desolate wasteland of the Moonriver Plain, a walking distance from the
main camp of the road construction crew. It was not a mirage, and neither
was it an ancient ruin.

In fact, the brick building was neat and tidy, as if someone frequently swept
its porch and washed its windows.

Rain looked at her teacher with wide eyes.

"What is that?"

He answered matter-of-factly:

"That… is an Ascended Devil pretending to be a cottage. Come inside."

She did not know what else to do but to follow him into the cottage. The
door opened by itself, and then closed behind him.

The interior… looked like a dining hall of a small café. There was no one
inside, and no source of light except for the moonlight pouring through the
windows.

It was more than a little bit creepy.

A moment latter, the moonlight was extinguished, as well, leaving Rain in

absolute darkness.

"T—teacher?"

There was a scratching sound, and a small light appeared in the darkness.
Her teacher was standing near a shelf, holding a burning candle in his
hand.
"Come."

With that, he turned around and went back to the door. Rain had no idea
why they had come inside only to leave with a candle, but she obediently
followed.

To her shock, however…

The Moonriver Plain was gone. When they came out, there were no moons,
no stars, and no wind. The floor was perfectly flat, as if cut from black
marble. She couldn't quite see where they were, but it felt as if they were
underground.

And there was someone else there, as well…

"Goddammit, it's so creepy… boss! Boss, you're back! Where the hell did
you… huh? Who's that?"

Rain had the same question.

Out there in front of her, sitting on the black marble floor, was a little girl...
who had a very dirty mouth and addressed her teacher as "boss", for some
reason.

Rain raised a hand and pointed to the strange child:

"Who's the brat?"

The little girl floated up, lowered her feet to the floor, and stared at her with
wide eyes.

"Brat? What do you mean, brat? I'm twenty-eight years old!"

Rain blinked a couple of times. She had assumed that the petite girl was a
child, but now that she looked closer…

'Ah, how embarrassing!'

Rain looked down.

"Oh… sorry, Auntie."

The petite girl opened her mouth in shock.

"A—auntie? No, wait, what do you mean by auntie?!"

Listening to the two of them, her teacher let out a heavy sigh and shook his
head.

"To answer your questions… this is Awakened Rain. This is Awakened

Aiko. Aiko, Rain is my disciple. Rain, Aiko is my assistant."

They turned to him almost simultaneously.

"You have an assistant?"

"You have a disciple?"

Then, they looked at each other, both wearing a similar shocked

expression.

Her teacher smiled.

"No need to sound so stunned, really. Sure, I do. Why wouldn't I? Now, the
reason I brought you two here… is to extend an offer to you both. Consider
it a great honor."

His smile turned a little sinister, making both of them feel a bad
premonition and shiver.

His smile turned a little wider.

"...How would you ladies like to join the Shadow Clan?"

And that was how Rain ended up with an intricate snake tattoo coiling
around her arm.

Leaning on the wheel of a supply wagon, she closed her eyes and listened to
Ray's complaints silently.
The snake tattoo, which was apparently called the [Mark of Shadows], was
more than a simple tattoo, of course. It was akin to an Attribute, granting
her several useful abilities. Among them was the ability to see in absolute
darkness, walk stealthily in the shadows, and sense their movements.

It also helped her control her soul essence. Apart from that, the snake could
also slither off her arm, manifesting into a weapon.

Most importantly of all at least according to her teacher it allowed him, as

well as the creature that had created the soul snake, access to her Soul Sea.
Which meant that they could defend it should something invade Rain's soul.

She had not even known that there were things out there that could invade
human souls, but knowing that her teacher would be there to deal with the
invader made her feel better.

All in all, the soul snake was an excellent gift to receive.

Of course, it was not the only thing she had received from her teacher…
1845 Seventh Royal Legion

The [Mark of Shadows] played an important role. It protected Rain and

gave her a few useful abilities, but its main purpose was to confuse people.
After all, she did not want anyone to learn that she did not have an Aspect,
and the snake tattoo bestowed upon her strange powers that could be seen
as one.

Her teacher had mentioned that he was working on something else to make
her disguise more convincing, as well. Rain did not know what he meant,
yet, but was going to learn one way or another in due time.

What excited her the most was not the [Mark of Shadows], though.

It was the Memories her teacher had given her.

Oh, the joy and delight of having Memories!

Rain held a strong opinion that all the rest of the Awakened in the world had
no idea how good they had it.

Her threadbare bodysuit and old clothes were gone, replaced by an

enchanted armor. It was so soft and light that she did not feel any burden at
all, but more resilient than her mundane equipment had ever been. The
armor was made of dark grey fabric and lusterless black leather, fitting her
perfectly. It was an Awakened Memory of the Fifth Tier — that was what
she had been told, at least — called the Puppeteer's Shroud.

Its enchantments increased her mental endurance and resistance against

mind attack, as well as allowed her to recover from mental fatigue faster.

…The armor looked suspiciously similar to what her teacher used to wear,
so she suspected that it had not been, in fact, crafted specifically for her. But
even if the Puppeteer's Shroud was a hand-me-down, Rain did not mind.

The euphoria of having a wonderful suit of incredibly light, but resilient

armor that adjusted to fit her body perfectly, cleaned and repaired itself, and
could be summoned at any moment was simply too great!
It was the reward for slaying the Awakened Tyrant.

There were two other Memories that she had received from her teacher, as
well. One was a powerful bow made of green metal… in fact, Rain knew
that metal all too well. It seemed that her teacher had smelted the blade of
the Huntsman's axe to forge the limbs of the bow, while the string was made
from some strange black material.

The bow was called the [Beast of Prey], and was an Awakened Memory of
the Third Tier. Its enchantment allowed Rain to enhance the damage dealt
by her arrows, as well as infuse one arrow with devastating force at the cost
of most of her essence. However, the bow was also able to absorb and store
her essence, somehow — so, with sufficient preparation, Rain could use the
deadly shot twice.

She received the Beast of Prey in exchange for the Memory coupon her
teacher had given her for slaying the Huntsman.

The third Memory she received, however, was a free bonus. It was a quiver
of enchanted arrows that never seemed to run out. The arrows did not really
possess any special qualities, apart from the fact that their flight was
absolutely noiseless. They were also incredibly sharp and could pierce thick
armor.

All in all, Rain was quite happy with her little arsenal. Of course, it was
only the beginning — she expected to receive many more Memories in the
future. Sadly, her teacher seemed determined to only award her Memories
that fit her kills.

He could have given her something much more powerful, without a doubt,
but then people would start asking questions about her identity. How could
a newly Awakened girl with no backing be walking around with a soul
arsenal that put even the Legacies to shame?

That sort of thing…

"Get up. Rest is over."

Tamar's voice drew Rain from her pleasant thoughts. Opening her eyes, she
sighed and rose to her feet.

All around them, the Song Army was stirring. After ascending the left arm
of the dead deity, they were finally ready to delve into the jungle growing
on its white surface, and then cross to the colossal skeleton's collarbone.
This rest stop was the last one they would be able to enjoy in relative safety.

The edge of the jungle was somewhere ahead, a few kilometers from the
head of the column. The Seventh Legion was marching closer to its tail, so
Rain could not see anything.

Nevertheless, everyone was tense. That was because everyone knew that
they were heading into battle.

…Not that people like Rain and the members of her cohort could do
anything in a battle like that. From what they had heard in the last few days,
the jungle had been allowed to grow for long enough that most Nightmare
Creatures populating its depths were of the Corrupted Rank. Awakened
warriors were simply not powerful enough to face them.

Today, the battle was only for the Masters and the Saints.

And for the abominations enthralled by Beastmaster.

Just as Rain thought about it, a messenger arrived from the head of the
column and hurried past them. She turned around and watched him
disappear into the command tent of the legion.

Soon, several Blood Sisters emerged from it.

And then, their leader.

Rain couldn't help but hold her breath when she saw the Queen's daughter.
Saint Seishan… was a striking woman, without a doubt.

With her strange, but beautiful grey skin and tantalizing grace, she was like
an embodiment of nobility and regal poise. She seemed both inhuman and
riveting, but most of all mysterious.
Her beauty was truly breathtaking.

It was to the point that the Blood Sisters, each an exquisitely beautiful
woman herself, seemed plain and unassuming next to her. Rain still found it
weird that most of the most powerful warriors of the Song Domain were
women… but she couldn't complain. Especially here in the Seventh Legion,
she sometimes felt that she was in a flower garden instead of an army.

Granted, those flowers were roses with bloodied thorns, and most of the
rank and file soldiers were still men.

Saint Seishan led the Ascended warriors of her legion toward the head of
the column. The Awakened warriors silently bowed as she passed, wishing
her luck.

Rain couldn't help but do the same.

The Song Army was bound to suffer casualties during the push to establish
a fortified base on the collarbone of the dead deity. Looking at the powerful
members of the legion, she couldn't help but wish that all of them returned
alive.

At the same time, Rain couldn't help but wonder…

Today, they were going to fight against Nightmare Creatures.

What would she feel when the time finally comes for them to fight against
people?
1846 Ground Perspective

The army assembled in a complicated battle formation. With so many

soldiers, it was vast and unwieldy, and mostly useless… but not entirely so.

The Masters and the Saints were going to assault the vermilion jungle, but
the Awakened were prepared to fight, as well.

Obviously, they had very little chance of killing Corrupted abominations,

not to mention the Great horrors who dwelled in Godgrave. However, they
did not necessarily need to.

The commanders of the Song Army were well aware of the limitations
facing their troops, so they had come up with various chilling, but effective
strategies. If it came to that, the task of the Awakened soldiers was not to
kill the powerful abominations, but to immobilize them.

Although hard, that could be achieved with numbers alone. Even if an

abomination had to be buried in human bodies, that was one way to deal
with it.

Of course, Rain felt a bit horrified by the prospect, just like all the other
Awakened warriors did. Still, it was not like the Nightmare Creatures would
spare them otherwise — so, they were prepared to carry out their orders and
do their best., no matter the cost.

Hopefully, that was not going to happen today.

If the Saints and their Ascended retinue succeeded in holding back the tide
of Nightmare Creatures, it would not.

The Seventh Legion was positioned in the second line of the formation, so
she could not even see the battle. All she could see were the tops of the
strange and hideous plants swaying in the distance and the backs of her
fellow soldiers. She could also hear the sounds that the wind carried from
somewhere far ahead.

Next to her, Fleur trembled nervously and looked at Tamar.

"...It is starting, isn't it?"

The Legacy girl nodded somberly.

"It is."

A few moments later, the sound of a horn rolled above the army, and the
ground under their feet trembled slightly.

Rain saw vague silhouettes moving forward from the front of the battle
formation. The white surface of the ancient bone was still inclined, since
they had not reached the collarbone yet, so she could not discern their shape
clearly. But she knew that they were the Saints who had assumed their
Transcendent forms, as well as the larger of the Nightmare Creatures
enthralled by Beastmaster.

At the same time, the jungle came alive.

She saw the red trees sway, but mostly, she heard and felt it: a harrowing
choir of bestial roars and sounds too alien to be described with human
language washing over the massive army like a tide, the violent trembling
of the ground as countless abominations rushed forward at the scent of
human souls.

She glanced at Tamar.

For the rest of them, the fate of the Saints fighting on the frontline was an
abstract concept. The Saints were people whom they admired, looked up to,
and maybe even knew — as well as the wall separating them from having
to face the dreadful horde of Nightmare Creatures themselves.

But it was different from Tamar, whose father was somewhere out there, as
well. The Saint of Sorrow was among the warriors whose task it was to
make the tide of abominations stop.

There were close to two thousand Masters in the Song Army, but only
around forty Transcendent champions.

It did not seem like a lot, but at the same time…

The world suddenly quaked.

The world suddenly seemed to be on the verge of shattering.

The violence of forty Saints unleashing their Transcendent power at the

same time was staggering.

Even far removed from the battlefield, Rain felt blood drain from her face.
Next to her, Fleur swayed and leaned heavily on Ray. All around them, the
Awakened soldiers staggered.

Only Tamar remained standing straight, seemingly undaunted.

She did, however, look at the sky.

As Rain's eyes widened, she did as well.

…Was the clash between the champions of the Song Army and the creatures
of the vermilion jungle terrible enough to rip apart the veil of clouds?

Luckily, it did not seem so.

For now.

The sounds of the battle grew much more loud, becoming almost deafening.
Rain had to struggle not to raise her hands and cover her ears. To her
shame, she found herself trembling.

'Insane, insane… this is insane…'

The fear that had risen from some deep, primal part of her was almost too
powerful to overcome. The inability to see what exactly was happening out
there, ahead, only made it worse. After all, it was the unknown that was the
most terrifying.

All she could see were the backs of the Awakened soldiers that stood in
front of the Seventh Legion in the formation.

They were not faring any better than her.

Some were shaking. Some had fallen to their knees. Some had dropped
their weapons.

There were those who did not, though. There were those who helped their
comrades to stand up and supported them, gripping the hilts of their swords
tightly.

Rain wanted to be one of those brave souls, as well.

Assaulted by the terrible cacophony of battle, she looked down, at her

shadow.

The sight of it instilled her with strength.

Gritting her teeth, she raised a hand and patted Fleur on the shoulder. The
delicate girl looked at her with frightened eyes.

"R—rani?"

Rain smiled.

"Relax. What's the worst thing that can happen?"

Fleur's beautiful blue eyes widened.

"What?! Why did you say it out loud?!"

Tamar and Ray glared at her with resentment, too.

Rain grinned.

She was still a bit of a stranger in this small cohort, so apart from Tamar, the
other two members acted a little awkward around her.

It was rare to see all three united in such a sincere display of emotion.

And that emotion was pure outrage, not fear or anxiety. So, her job here was
done.
Rain looked ahead and sighed.

Although… she might have overdone it.

From what she could hear, the vanguard of the army had managed to stem
the tide of the Nightmare Creatures. A furious battle was happening
somewhere ahead.

However, the Saints had not managed to stop all abominations.

Just then, she heard a litany of human cries, and saw bodies flying into the
air. It was as if something massive slammed into the front row of the
Awakened soldiers at the head of the battle formation.

Human blood spilled on the white bone.

The war horn blared one more time, and the soldiers ahead of her moved
forward.

Rain shivered and gripped her bow tighter.

Far ahead, a strange haze rose above the crimson jungle.

It seemed like a haze at first, but soon, she saw that it was a vast swarm of
flying abominations rushing from the depths of Godgrave like a cloud.

"G—gods!"

One of the Awakened soldiers near them pointed at the swarm in horror.

Rain sighed and looked at the members of her cohort apologetically.

Her grin grew a little forced.

"Well… I guess that's the worst thing that could have happened…"
1847 Deadly Equilibrium

On the other side of the titanic skeleton, the Ivory Island was surrounded by
a sea of Nightmare Creatures. The horde of them flowed forward, tearing
the scarlet jungle apart.

The jungle itself was moving too. Vermilion vines were crawling, and rust-
red flowers were blooming, releasing clouds of flesh-eating pollen. It was
as if the whole world had come alive to devour the invading humans.

The humans, meanwhile, met the tide of abominations with sharp steel and
the destructive power of their Aspects.

The Fire Keepers were skilled and formidable. Their discipline and morale
were beyond reproach. Their cohesion and experience were unequalled.
Countless Nightmare Creatures fell to their blades, torrents of blood being
absorbed by the ancient bone.

And yet, they were being pushed back.

A force of fifty battle-hardened Masters was truly fearsome, but most of the
abominations they faced were of a higher Rank than them. These creatures
were also the cursed spawn of Godgrave, where nightmares had to fight and
devour each other without reprieve for the infinitely small chance to
survive.

The surface dwellers were not the true horrors who hunted in the dim
twilight of the great Hollows, but they were also exorbitantly fierce and
ferocious, even when compared to the usual demented frenzy plaguing all
Nightmare Creatures.

The horde was vast, as well.

Granted, the Fire Keepers had been forged and shaped by the Forgotten
Shore, and so, facing abominations that were more powerful than them was
more or less their speciality. But, still…

There was one reason why they were able to hold out.
Two reasons, actually.

One was Changing Star of the Immortal Flame clan. The other was the Lord
of Shadows.

It had been a long time since Sunny was truly able to unleash himself. Right
now, he was like a dark hurricane that moved across the battlefield,
surrounded by a vast mantle of flowing shadows. He neglected to manifest
any of his Shells, using only his two hands and the black odachi to cut the
abominations down.

Everywhere he went, severed bodies fell to the ground.

Sunny was using Shadow Manifestation to control the surrounding area and
Shadow Step to move around it, dancing between the Nightmare Creatures
as his blade reaped their lives. While wielding Serpent as a weapon, his
essence was replenished with every life he took.

The faster he killed the abominations, the more essence he received — and
could therefore burn. And the more essence he burned, the more enemies he
could slay. Reaching a dangerous equilibrium in that manner, Sunny
rampaged on the battlefield like the epicenter of a vast whirlpool of blood,
darkness, and death.

Of course, it was not easy.

The Corrupted Nightmare Creatures were falling easily to his blade, but he
could be just as easily overwhelmed by them. All it took was a single
mistake…

But Sunny did not make any mistakes.

Despite the startling speed at which he moved around the battlefield,

despite the daunting complexity of navigating it with no regard to the
familiar constraints of linear space, despite the burdensome task of
maintaining both the lethal dance of slaying steel and the flowing storm of
manifested shadows…
Sunny's mind remained cold and clear, aware of every little detail of his
surroundings, and full of merciless killing intent.

He did not allow the dire mayhem of the battle and the intoxicating stench
of death to pull him into a state of battle frenzy. No matter how brutal and
unbridled his slaughter seemed, it was instead a result of precise and callous
calculation. There were no emotions in his heart, no distraction in his mind
— there was only clarity and will.

The will to see his enemies dead.

...Nephis was fighting on the other side of the Ivory Island. Sunny could not
see her, but he could sense her presence through the movement of shadows.

In the world of shadows, her presence was as vast as that of the sun.

She had unleashed a sea of incandescent flames, turning a swathe of the

battlefield into a searing inferno. The flames moved as if possessing a mind
— and hunger — of their own, spreading through the horde of Nightmare
Creatures like a plague. Where the power of the scorching flames was not
enough, her sword fell like a herald of inescapable finality.

At the same time, she was supporting the Fire Keepers. When one of them
received a wound, it was healed by the soft radiance of her soulflame.
When one of them was on the verge of being swallowed by the tide of
abominations, she was there to lend them the power of her incandescent
blade.

Cassie was participating in the battle, as well.

Her unseen presence was subtle, but played a pivotal role. She was not
present on the battlefield, and no Nightmare Creature fell to her sword.
However, she served as the connection between Sunny, Nephis, and the Fire
Keepers. She was aware of all and guided them all, helping them fight as a
single being.

She could also share the traits of the abominations with them, making the
task of surviving the dreadful onslaught much easier.
It was because of her that Nephis knew when one of her people needed
support. The Fire Keepers knew when to press forward and when to retreat.
Sunny knew where the most dangerous enemies were, and in which
direction he had to move.

Nephis was in command, but Cassie was the person who made sure that the
commander had all the necessary information to make good decisions.

Sunny had not seen the Fire Keepers fighting a battle of that scale before,
and now that he did… he was quietly impressed.

He knew many who were more powerful than them, and a few who were
more skilled than them. But he struggled to think of another group of
warriors who were capable of showcasing this level of cohesion, combat
awareness, and effectiveness in a battle.

That said…

It was still not enough.

It did not matter how skilled and brave the Fire Keepers were, or how
unreasonably powerful he and Nephis had become. At the end of the day,
they were still fighting against impossible odds.

There were simply too many Nightmare Creatures, and each of these
Nightmare Creatures was too powerful.

Sending fifty Masters and three Saints to face an entire Death Zone was a
suicidal task. They could not even retreat, because they were surrounded
from all sides.

However…

This time, Clan Valor had not sent Nephis into battle hoping that she would
die.

This time, they desperately needed her to survive... for a while, at least.
1848 Reign Of Steel

Sunny sensed it before he saw it.

An invisible, but undeniable change that spread across the battlefield.

He was not affected himself, but the Fire Keepers certainly were. They did
not grow stronger, and their swords did not become sharper…

And yet, suddenly, more Nightmare Creatures were falling to their blades.
More blood was flowing to the ground, but less of it belonged to humans.

Observing the inexplicable change through shadow sense, Sunny couldn't

help but feel a deep sense of confusion. There was no reason for the sudden
shift in the cadence of the battle, but it had shifted, without a doubt.

Lacking any other explanation, he was tempted to think that it was a result
of luck.

But there was something deeper than that going on…

He continued the wanton slaughter, defending one side of the Ivory Island.

At the same time, he was standing on the grass of the island, near the
Marvelous Mimic, observing the battle idly side by side with Aiko.

It was that incarnation of his that tried to understand what was happening.

Almost an entire minute passed before his eyes suddenly narrowed.

Sunny exhaled slowly.

'I… see.'

The Fire Keepers were not lucky. They had not grown stronger, and their
weapons had not become sharper.

It was just that they were fighting better.

Their already impressive coordination had improved, reaching an almost
inhuman level of perfection, and their battle sense seemed to have become
even keener. It was as if they were possessed by a spirit of war, and had
received its blessing.

He had seen something similar once before, albeit in a less pronounced

way.

It was during the Battle of the Black Skull. Back then, Morgan had armed
her soldiers with enchanted swords forged by her father — wielding those
swords, the warriors of Valor showed a strange level of cohesion, making it
seem as if her entire army was one vast, lethal being.

Back then, Sunny had guessed that the swords served as conduits for
Anvil's authority… as vessels of his will, and therefore, of his Domain.

And now, his Domain had spread to Godgrave.

After all, that was the entire reason why the Ivory Island was so important
to Valor's plan of subjugating this cursed land and winning the war. The
entire war was, at its heart, a race to conquer local Citadels and allow the
Sovereigns to express their power here.

At the end of it all, the Supreme who controlled more Citadels in Godgrave,
and could therefore manifest their Domain in a more profound way, would
have a great advantage in the battle against the enemy.

The Queen of Worms was still powerless in this dreadful land, since there
was nothing to summon her authority here. But Clan Valor had Nephis, and
her flying Citadel as well — that was why they had tolerated Sunny's
defiant unwillingness to surrender the Nameless Temple to them, and that
was why they were already winning.

Because, unlike Ki Song, Anvil could already express his power in

Godgrave.

And he was expressing it now. It had already spread in the vast area around
the Ivory Island, and rooted itself in the ancient bone, under the cloudy sky,
empowering his subjects.

That was why the Fire Keepers were suddenly more effective in the fight
against the Nightmare Creatures. And that was why the Sword Army would
have far less trouble entering the scarlet jungle — the spot where the Ivory
Island landed had been chosen carefully to make sure that the King's
authority covered the army's approach.

But that was not all.

Sunny shivered, suddenly overwhelmed by a cold presence.

Turning around, he looked up, at the balcony of the Ivory Tower.

'N—no way…'

There, a tall figure in dark armor stood, a vermilion cloak fluttering in the
wind.

A crown made out of dull steel rested on his head.

The King of Swords had arrived to Godgrave.

…Then, the world was consumed by a scarlet storm.

Countless sparks enveloped the Ivory Island and the sky above it, swirling
like a hurricane of scarlet light. There were so many of them that it seemed
as if the whole world was suddenly desaturated of all colors except for red.

Then, the sparks formed into a sea of rustling swords.

An endless river of them bloated out the sky, moving in strange, hypnotic
patterns.

Mesmerized by the sight and drowning in their shadow, Sunny almost

forgot about the figure of a man standing on the balcony of the Ivory
Tower.
The man did not move, but his cold gaze fell on the horde of Nightmare
Creatures below.

In the next moment, the storm cloud of swords exploded with a lethal hail.

Countless swords rained down, making the bone plain shudder.

Down below, Sunny's avatar lowered the black odachi and froze.

It was a terrifying feeling, to see the steel sky fall on him, glistening with
countless sharp tips.

However, he did not have to feel fear.

Although it seemed that the rain of swords would obliterate everything on

the surface of the ancient bone, none of the falling blades struck him.
Instead, they reaped a terrible harvest of lives, piercing every Nightmare
Creature in sight.

In just a few moments, the horde of them was eviscerated. Numerous

abominations were violently impaled by the flying swords, while those that
survived the first onslaught were either bloodied or petrified, slow to escape
the inevitable doom.

None of the Fire Keepers had received even a scratch, though, despite the
fact that many of them were now surrounded by a forest of swords.

The swords did not stop moving.

More of them rained from above, and those that were impaling the
Nightmare Creatures tore free of the bleeding flesh, rising into the air and
turning to point at new prey.

Standing in the sea of blood, Sunny turned and looked at the distant
balcony.

He should have felt elated because the battle was ostensibly over…

But instead, all he felt was a cold feeling of unease.

Sunny knew that, one day soon, he would be the target of these flying
swords.

'What's the matter? It's just a Sovereign.'

For once, the words did not bring with them any levity.

Lowering his gaze, he peered at the horizon.

There, far away…

The first of the vermilion banners appeared in the distance.

The Sword Army had crossed over to the collarbone of the dead deity.
1849 Taste of Ash

The Sword Army entered Godgrave with relative ease. Of course, it was a
tense and solemn day. The Awakened warriors were pale with dread as they
ventured into the scarlet jungle and crossed over from the humerus bone of
the dead deity to the vast collarbone.

They were in a Death Zone, after all.

However, the army barely suffered any casualties. Changing Star and her
Fire Keepers had pulled the attention of the local Nightmare Creatures away
and established a beachhead on the collarbone plain. Most importantly, the
brought the authority of the king to this dire purgatory — emboldened and
empowered by his presence, the army marched on.

The veil of clouds did not break, held together by the power of Sky Tide of
the White Feather clan. The Transcendent and Ascended warriors repelled
the sporadic attacks of remnant abominations without too much strain. And
later, the King of Swords himself descended upon the battlefield, using the
Ivory Island as an anchor.

Once the storm of swords manifested above the jungle, the battle was
ostensibly over.

The army cut a path through the predatory jungle, using the beautiful
silhouette of the Ivory Tower to navigate it. By the time they reached the
scene of slaughter, there were no abominations left for them to fight against.
They were only numerous corpses and the rustle of countless swords
swirling in the sky above.

Instead, the task they faced was of a more mundane nature. They had to
establish a camp and start fortifying it, building an impregnable fortress on
the surface of the ancient bone. That fortress would serve as the staging
ground for the rest of the military campaign in Godgrave.

…The Song Army, however, fared much worse than that.

***

Rain was staring at the ground with a tired expression. On the ground in
front of her, the wind was playing with flakes of ash.

She was staying completely motionless, and those flakes of ash had been a
person not too long ago. Above her, an incandescent white void shone
blindingly through the broken clouds.

Her first day in Godgrave had been a long, bitter nightmare.

The first battle the Song Army had fought was a sobering experience. Led
by the seven princesses, the Saints and the Ascended warriors of the Song
Domain clashed with the horde of Nightmare Creatures and repelled it. The
unimaginable violence unleashed by that clash made the world quake —
but, worst of all, some of it reached the battle formation of the Awakened
warriors.

The casualties were not immeasurable, but they weren't negligible, either.
Perhaps because it was the first time the soldiers fought against the
abominations of Godgrave, the strategies developed by the royal clan to
breach the difference in Ranks between them could not be deployed
promptly, or at all.

That could improve as the army gained experience, but today, too many
people died.

Rain herself did not participate in the slaughter, because the Seventh Legion
was positioned in the second line of the formation, where the battle had not
reached. However, she could hear and feel the terrible mayhem of the
desperate struggle happening ahead.

Nevertheless, eventually, the battle ended. The vanguard obliterated the

horde of the frenzied Nightmare Creatures. Those of them who had got past
were immobilized and eventually cut down by the Awakened soldiers. After
the soul shards were harvested, the corpses of the abominations were
pushed aside, and the bloodied army continued to ascend the arm of the
dead god.
Soon enough, they entered the jungle.

The jungle itself was as much of a shock to the invading humans as the
horde of Nightmare Creatures had been. Everything here was not what it
seemed — but all of it was insidious, hungry, and chillingly deadly. The
grass, the flowers, the vines, the trees… every single thing here wanted
them dead.

Those of the soldiers who had more experience exploring the Dream Realm
did not seem too phased, taking the dread of the scarlet jungle in stride. But
those who were younger and less experienced, like member's of Tamar's
cohort, were left shaken. Their mental fortitude was sorely tested, and that
was after having already received a painful blow by the recent clash against
the vast horde of abominations.

If there was on silver lining to the situation, it was that the abominable flora
of Godgrave was not as impervious to being damaged by the Awakened as
the Corrupted Nightmare Creatures were. It was still incredibly tough and
tenacious, but they could at least try to contend against the myriad of deadly
dangers hiding in the jungle. So, they did not feel as helpless, at least.

There were still many that died.

Some died, screaming, after inhaling a bit of drifting pollen. Falling to the
ground, then wailed and convulsed as their bodies gruesomely became
fertile soil for sprouting blossoms.

Some died after being stung by tiny insect-like vermin that crawled into
their armor. The effect of the paralytic poison was instantaneous, making
the victims fall down without making a sound… however, it was unclear if
they remained conscious and felt excruciating pain when the eggs deposited
by the vermin into the wounds started to hatch a dozen seconds later.

Some were strangled and drained of blood by thorned vines that hid beneath
the vermilion moss. Some were pulled below it by what had looked like
harmless patches of scarlet grass.
It was all like a ghastly nightmare. Rain would have thought that they were
invading the very depths of hell… if not for the fact that the Dream Realm
was much more harrowing than any hell imagined by a human could ever
be.

Luckily, she had no time to drown in terror.

The army marched forward in a vast battle formation. The train was
absorbed into the formation and protected in its center, while the various
legions and divisions took turns defending the outer perimeter. The entire
arrangement was spearheaded by the thralls of Beastmaster, who faced the
most dire peril and suffered the heaviest casualties.

On the flanks, the warriors of higher Ranks dealt with the brunt of the
danger once again. But Awakened soldiers like Rain also had a lot to do —
both when marching on the outer rim of the formation and when resting
closer to its center.

She had killed plenty of scurrying pests with her arrows, saving not only
her life but also that of others. Her arrows seemed to not know how to miss,
striking down even the smallest pests with daunting precision long before
they could sink their stingers, mandibles, and beaks into human flesh.

In truth, she was a bit safer in this hellish place than most Awakened were.
It was because she could sense the movement of shadows, and therefore
detect dangerous movement even if her sight betrayed her.

And yet, Rain was swiftly growing tired… exhausted, even.

It was not because of marching or having to draw her bow over and over
again. It was not even because of having to climb the steep slope of the
dead god's humerus bone without rest.

It was due to the mental strain of enduring the horror of Godgrave without
allowing herself to break down.

Rain had thought that she was accustomed to the dread of the Dream Realm
after hunting in the wilderness around Ravenheart for four years. But now,
she realized just how tame those settled regions of this terrible world were
after being conquered and cleansed by the previous generations of
Awakened. Compared to Godgrave, Ravenheart was a paradise.

She was barely holding on to her composure… if not to her sanity.

But even then, after a while, the march became easier.

Humans were supremely adaptable, after all. The jungle did not change, but
the soldiers of the Song Army had adapted to its gruesome reality — at least
a little bit.

Eventually, they reached the mountainous shoulder joint that connected the
titanic humerus to the collarbone. The engineering corps swiftly established
a robust bridge under the protection of the First Legion, and then, the Song
Army slowly started to cross over to the over side of the bottomless chasm.

The crossing was perhaps the most perilous step of the invasion of
Godgrave. Rain felt incredibly tense while the Seventh Legion waited for
its turn to enter the bridge… however, in the end, they reached the
collarbone plain without any trouble.

The jungle on the over side was much the same, but somehow, everyone felt
safer.

That feeling was a lie.

No sooner than the last division had crossed over, a strong wind rose, and a
loud wailing of a war horn washed over the entire army. That horn was
different from the ones that had called them to battle, and much more
anxious.

"Don't move!"

Tamar's shout was quite timely. The members of her cohort remembered the
meaning of the wailing horn despite their fatigue and mental exhaustion,
but many of the surrounding soldiers were slow to react. Hearing her voice,
they recalled their training.
The entire army suddenly grew still.

A few moments later, the world was suddenly much brighter. The light
reflecting from the white surface of the ancient bone was almost painful to
look at… a wave of unbearable heat crashed into the human invaders, and
the smell of ash filled the air.

The jungle burned.

…Many humans burned, too

Well, perhaps "burning" was not the right word. They just turned to ash,
scattering into a cloud of grey flakes in the scorching wind, and disappeared
without a trace.

Not everyone had ceased all movement in time, and not everyone managed
to remain perfectly motionless.

Seeing their comrades die, some soldiers recoiled or flinched.

They became ash, too.

Rain could not move, could not look away, and could not even wipe the
flakes of warm ash off her face.

All she could do was stand still and stare at the ground.

'It's bitter.'

The first day in Godgrave… was too bitter to swallow.

They had not even clashed with the army of the Sword Domain, and so
many people were already dead. Yes, their number was inconsequential in
the grand scheme of things. But their deaths were not.

Rain couldn't help but feel as if they had been beaten without even entering
a battle.

She was tired.

…After a few hours, and more deaths, the veil of clouds finally repaired
itself. The Song Army took a short rest, most soldiers sitting on the ground
quietly, despondent and unable to say anything.

Then, they continued the march.

By evening — or whatever constituted evening in this eternally sunlit hell

— they finally reached the area where the army basecamp was supposed to
be established.

Not everyone had made it that far.

But for those who had…

The war was only starting.

1850 War Council

The camp of the Sword Army resembled a fortified city that was like a dark
stain on the sun-bleached surface of white bone, adorned by a sea of scarlet
banners. The vicious jungle had been pushed back and incinerated some
days ago, and was only now spreading tentatively from the fissures of the
titanic collarbone.

Tendrils of red moss could be seen here and there, looking like patches of
rust on the vast expanse of the bone plain. The sky above was grey and
cloudy, yet suffused with blinding light.

Tall walls surrounded the sprawling avenues of the basecamp, and protected
by their impregnable barrier, countless barracks and tents crowded the
relatively limited space. The camp was a cauldron of activity, with
thousands of soldiers going about their business in a tense atmosphere.

When one looked at the fortress of the Sword Army, they could hardly
imagine that it had not existed just a week ago. However, it was true — the
entire city had been built in a matter of days, not decades or centuries.

That was what hundreds of thousands of Awakened were capable of when

brought together by a common goal.

There were many among them who possessed potent utility Aspects, and
many more who could lend their physical strength and unique Abilities to
hasten the construction. So, the city had risen from the ground with a speed
that was in no way inferior to how fast the scarlet jungle grew and
propagated after being reduced to ash.

There were two towering landmarks in the sprawling fortress. One was the
Ivory Island, which hovered a few meters above the ground, anchored to it
by seven colossal chains to remain completely still. The beautiful white
pagoda standing on its soil was like a beacon of hope for the soldiers of the
Sword Army, raising their spirits every time they saw it.
The other was the dark rift of the Dream Gate, which tore the fabric of
reality apart some distance away. The King of Swords had moved it from
Bastion to Godgrave, announcing to the world the gravity of his intent to
see the rulers of the Song Domain pay for their transgressions.

Currently, fresh supplies were arriving at the camp from the waking world.

Sunny looked at the flurry of activity with a frown. It was tremendously

convenient, of course, to have a direct logistical connection to the waking
world here in Godgrave. The Song Army lacked that advantage, still, which
was why they had to scavenge provisions in the jungle or wait for heavily
guarded convoys to deliver them across the Moonriver Plain and up the left
arm of the dead deity.

The road Rain had helped build drastically shortened the time needed for
each convoy to arrive, true, but it was still a point of vulnerability… one
that he personally would be exploiting in the near future, perhaps, by
launching raids to break the supply chains established by the Song Army.
That was one of the duties the Lord of Shadows had agreed to, after all.

Nevertheless, he did not like the presence of the Dream Gate here in
Godgrave. Not because it was particularly unnerving, but simply because it
was a point of vulnerability, as well — it was just that the vulnerability lay
in the waking world, not in the Dream Realm.

The servants of the Queen could not cross the vast collarbone of the dead
god, lay siege to the King's fortress, and destroy the supplies arriving
through the Dream Gate. However, they could easily stage a devastating
attack on Valor's distribution facilities in the waking world, not caring about
the collateral damage and widespread destruction such an assault would
entail.

There was actually a mutual agreement between the two warring sides to
keep the bloodshed contained to the Dream Realm. No one wanted for their
soldiers to be afraid that their physical bodies would be destroyed while
they were fighting the war. No one wanted for their families to be put in
danger while they were on the battlefield, either.
The government was supposed to ensure that neither side broke the
agreement.

However…

Sunny wasn't sure how long that agreement would last. He was even more
doubtful that the government would be able to do anything if the mayhem
of the Domain War spilled into the waking world.

If anything, such an eventuality seemed all but inevitable.

Shaking his head, he looked away from the Dream Gate and hurried his
steps. No matter his opinion, he could not be late today.

'This… is not going to be strange at all.'

Wearing the vermilion cloak of a Valor Knight, he was following Nephis

and Cassie to the center of the camp. A few Fire Keepers were there, as
well, clad in their armor. Everyone they passed greeted them with
admiration and reverence.

At the same time, Sunny was heading in the same direction from the
outskirts of the camp, his body encased in the stonelike metal of the Onyx
Mantle, his face hidden behind the fearsome visage of Weaver's Mask. Saint
was walking behind him, indifferent crimson flames burning behind the
visor of her helmet.

The glances thrown at them were full of fear and apprehension.

Today, Sunny was meant to attend a war council where the next actions of
the Sword Army would be decided.

…In two different incarnations, now less.

The prospect sent his mind for a spin.

The Lord of Shadows was a natural choice to participate in such a meeting,

of course. Both his power and status were more than great enough to earn
him a spot at the table. But Master Sunless ended up being invited to the
council by pure happenstance.

It was simply because his status as a Knight Commander, no matter how

bogus, was still technically a real one. Therefore, he had been incredibly
surprised to receive orders to attend the strategy meeting along other
notable officers of the Sword Army.

It was both funny and concerning.

At this rate, he might actually end up leading the warriors of Valor into
battle. The probability was infinitely small, but not entirely impossible.

'Let's hope something like that won't happen. I really don't want to end up
as a hero of the Sword Domain because of some ridiculous
misunderstanding…'

Just then, they finally reached the stone stronghold that stood at the heart of
the camp, towering above every structure except for the Ivory Tower and
the Dream Gate and resembling a castle. That stronghold was where Anvil
of Valor, the King of Swords, held court.

One would have expected that he would stay in the comfort of the only
Citadel the Sword Domain possessed in Godgrave, and Nephis had even
been prepared to surrender her living quarters at the top of the Ivory Tower
to her adopted father. But Anvil chose to reside in a simple tent while the
camp was being constructed, and then moved to this stone keep.

Sunny could not complain.

It would have been quite weird to have Neph's father — albeit a fake one —
live under one roof with them, especially when they were often getting busy
with…

His thoughts were interrupted when his other avatar arrived in front of the
stronghold.
Sunny stared at the enigmatic and unmistakably sinister figure clad in an
onyx armor, the very air around it suffused with coldness and arrogance.

At the same time, Sunny stared at a delicate young man wearing a

vermilion cloak on top of an elegant black mantle, his handsome face
practically screaming of softness and lack of strength.

He remained motionless for a few seconds, and then thought:

'... Edgy idiot.'

'Pampered fool...'
1851 Talking to Myself

There was a bit of an eerie pause as Sunny stared at himself from behind the
mask.

The Lord of Shadows stared. Master Sunless — or rather, Sir Sunless —

paled under his menacing gaze.

…Nephis looked at the two of them with a strange expression.

Eventually, it was Cassie who broke the silence.

"Greetings, Lord Shadow. I don't think we had an opportunity to meet in the

last few days… please allow me to express gratitude on behalf of Lady
Nephis and the Fire Keepers. Your help in the recent battle, while
unexpected, was deeply appreciated."

Sunny turned his cold gaze to her.

He remained silent for a few moments, then said evenly:

"There is no reason to thank me... I was just attracted by the smell of

slaughter. Who can resist the beautiful fragrance of bloodshed?"

The Fire Keepers seemed more than a little troubled by his strange words.
Sunny spared them a glance, then lowered his head slightly.

"Greetings to you as well, Lady Nephis, Lady Cassia."

Then, he looked at himself coldly.

Was now a good time to establish a distinction between the Lord of

Shadows and Master Sunless?

It wouldn't hurt...

He asked evenly:
"And who might this be?"

Nephis blinked a couple of times.

She seemed a little puzzled by the situation. Not only did her suitor possess
several incarnations, but two of them were even having a conversation right
in front of her. More than that... the conversation did not seem especially
friendly!

Sunny himself was a bit confused about the nature of his peculiar existence,
so Nephis must have been positively perplexed.

Her attempts to hide her puzzlement was behind the usual impassive
expression... were quite cute.

He smiled behind the mask.

"Oh… this is Master Sunless, an enchanter employed by the Fire Keepers.

Sir Sunless, this is Saint Shadow. A Transcendent warrior of great renown,
one of the champions of the Sword Army."

Sunny stared at himself some more, then shrugged dismissively.

"An enchanter? Never heard of him. He must not be very good."

Hearing the Lord of Shadow say that, Master Sunless smiled.

His smile was a little forced, though…

He said politely:

"Really? Ah, but I have heard of you."

Nephis was alternating between looking at them with a hint of bafflement in

her eyes.

The Lord of Shadow glared silently.

"What did you hear, and from whom?"

Sunny's smile widened a little.

"I think I heard it from Saint Athena? She mentioned that you must be
terribly hideous behind that mask."

The Fire Keepers held their breaths. Nephis seemed to have suddenly
remembered that conversation and closed her eyes with a subtle wince.

Cassie did not show a reaction, but it looked like she was trying to suppress
a laugh.

The Lord of Shadows lingered for a moment, then scoffed.

"That woman certainly does not sound like a handful. She has never seen
my face, and yet she sings me praises."

With that, he turned away and walked into the gates of the stronghold
without looking back.

Sunny, Nephis, Cassie, and the Fire Keepers were left behind in tense
silence. The coldness left behind by the Lord of Shadows was slow to
dissipate.

After a few moments, one of the Fire Keepers patted Sunny on the shoulder
and gave him a thumbs up.

"I admire you, Sir Sunless. You truly are a brave man! I would have never
dared to talk back to that devil."

Another nodded.

"True. That guy is beyond creepy. And he stared at our lady like a wolf
every time they meet… good job, Sin Sunless!"

A third one sighed.

"Still, try not to antagonize him. He is immensely powerful, even among

Saints. It's better not to make an enemy out of someone like him…"
Sunny coughed.

'How come I am both pleased with and offended by their nonsense?'

"Ah, yes… I'll try not to, next time…"

Nephis, meanwhile, was looking at them in confusion.

"...Huh? What do you mean, stares like a wolf?"

The Fire Keepers glanced at each other.

"Sorry to tell you this, my lady, but I think you're the only one who has not
noticed. The way he looks at you, it's… you know, as if he wants to gobble
you up…"

She hesitated for a few moments, seemingly unsure how to respond.

Eventually, she asked:

"You think he's a cannibal?"

Sunny struggled between the impulse to cover his face with a hand and the
desire to give her a hug. He wasn't one to point fingers, in that regard, but
really… how could she be so adorably clueless?

'I mean, she can literally sense people's desire!'

One of the Fire Keepers coughed.

"No, that's not… anyway, why are we gossiping about the Lord of
Shadows? We have Master Sunless right here. Unlike some people, he's a
perfect gentleman, and always maintains proper decorum when gazing at
our lady."

Another nodded.

"Yeah! If anything, it's our lady that stares at him like a wolf…"
Realizing that he said something wrong, the Fire Keeper fell silent and
cleared his throat.

"Well… aren't we going to be late to the war council? L—let us proceed

post-haste…"

Nephis gave Sunny a curious look and then smiled with a corner of her
mouth.

"Alright. Let's go."

When the Fire Keepers headed for the entrance, she fell back, waited until
the two of them were a few steps behind the others, and whispered into his
ear:

"So… you want to gobble me up, huh…"

Sunny made his best effort not to trip.

After maintaining silence for a few moments and regaining his composure,
he smiled pleasantly and asked:

"...Why? Are you on the menu?"

Nephis studied him silently, then chuckled and hastened her steps, leaving
him without an answer.

His expression crumpled a little.

'No, but I really want to know...'

Walking into the stronghold, Sunny touched his ear and let out a heavy sigh.

Sometimes, he really wished that everyone were beholden to the same Flaw
as he was.
1852 Champions of Valor

Sunny, as the Lord of Shadows, reached the council chamber before his
original body did.

The room was not quite as impressive as the hall where the King of Swords
had gathered all the Saints before the war, but it was also quite spacious.
The walls were built from grey stone and adorned with vermilion tapestries,
and there was a round table in the middle of the chamber, with forty-two
chairs positioned around it. An elaborate enchanted chandelier shone with
cold glow above.

There were already plenty of people gathered inside, and all of them turned
to look when Sunny walked in. The Lord of Shadows was still a mystery to
most of them, and although the rumors of his fearsome power had already
spread far and wide, few knew what to make of him.

Mostly, they treated him with a mix of respect and wariness.

He graced them with an indifferent gaze, then walked to the table. No one
had taken their seat yet, since the king was not present. Ignoring the
unspoken convention, Sunny chose a random chair and sat down.

'...Pathetic.'

His Shadow Chair was superior to this pitiful thing in all regards.

Hidden behind the mask, he secretly studied the people who had been
summoned to attend the war council.

There were many Masters and a few Awakened here, but they were mostly
meant to observe the discussion and provide insight if any of the true
decision-makers had a question having to do with their expertise. The
people of real importance were the Saints, and they were the ones Sunny
was curious about.

Most of them hailed from the vassal clans, while some were retained by
Valor. Several were members of the royal clan's branch families, as well,
albeit not many.

The Sword Army possessed slightly more than forty Transcendent warriors.
It was less than the Song Domain had, but the Saints of Valor were forged
from tougher steel… or at least that was what the public believed. They had
more renown, a longer history, and had accomplished more incredible
feats.

However, Sunny was doubtful that they were truly superior to the
Transcendent warriors of the Song Army. After all, some of the strongest
Saint he knew of were those few people had ever heard about or cared to
pay attention to. So, he had a feeling that the champions of the Queen of
Worms would give their enemies a nasty shock when the two armies finally
clashed in battle.

Which was not to say that the people gathered in the chamber weren't
outstanding in every regard. A Saint was a Saint, after all… even now that
Transcendents were somewhat divided into tiers, everyone understood that
those tiers only differentiated between various levels of absolute
excellence.

He saw a few familiar faces, of course.

There was Morgan, the Princess of War. The sharpest sword of her father's
kingdom. The enchanting beauty was clad in black armor, leaning on a wall
as she studied the room with a hint of amusement in her vivid vermilion
eyes.

There was Nephis, Changing Star of the Immortal Flame clan. Even among
these legendary figures, she was treated with a hint of veneration — both
because of her family and because of her own accomplishments. Sunny
knew how tyrannical her power was better than anyone.

Looking at the two princesses, Sunny had a sudden thought. He found it

ironic there were seven Saints among the girls Ki Song had adopted, while
Anvil only had two Transcendent children… and out of those two, one was
now fighting on the side of the enemy, while his place was taken by the
daughter of a man the Sovereigns had most likely killed.
'That's one messed-up family tree.'

He continued to study the gathered Saints.

There was Cassie, the blind seer. People paid attention to her because of her
startling beauty and quiet demeanor, but few understood how dangerous she
was. Most knew her as a competent advisor of the royal clan, while some
treated her with subtle reverence that was often afforded to oracles. But
since she was not too accomplished as a warrior, no one held her in truly
high regard.

Then, there was Sunny himself — the Lord of Shadows. People seemed to
have various opinions about him, but everyone agreed that he was an
extremely formidable combatant. Still, there was a certain feeling of
distance between him and the rest of the gathered Saints, as if they were not
entirely ready to put their trust in a stranger.

That was because his position was somewhat unique — unlike the rest of
them, he had not sworn loyalty to the King of Swords, and was therefore
more of a mercenary than a true comrade.

Some distance away, Sunny noticed Saint Tyris. He saw her recently, so he
was not too surprised by the fact that she had not changed at all in the last
four years. Sky Tide had always had a stern, but strong presence — now,
however, everyone seemed to treat her with an extra bit of respect. After all,
she was one of the most important strategic assets in this war.

Strangely enough, the man standing next to her had not changed that much,
either. He was tall and rugged, with broad shoulders and an easy bearing.
His hair and beard were the color of straw, while his eyes were piercingly
blue. There was a blue scarf wrapped carelessly around his neck… Roan of
White Feather had grown even more handsome after becoming a Saint.

Together, they made for a beautiful pair.

Awakened Telle was standing behind her parents. Sunny was pleased to see
the [Belated Apology] on Roan's right forearm — it seemed that her father
really liked her gift.
'I'm glad.'

On the opposite side of the chamber, a gallant man in lustrous armor was
waiting calmly for the meeting to start. He was Sir Gilead, the Summer
Knight — a man whose loyalty and noble character were a legend in and of
themselves. He was known for his straightforward nature, embodying
qualities such as honor, valiance, and devotion.

Although… after spending some time with the man in the Nightmare
Desert, Sunny suspected that there was more to Sir Gilead than blind
loyalty. In any case, Summer Knight was one of the strongest and most
renowned Transcendent warriors of the old generation. He was, more or
less, the personification of what people thought a Saint should be.

Having someone like that fighting by one's side was quite reassuring in a
dire war.

These were all the gathered Transcendents Sunny knew personally.

However, there were a few more that he instantly recognized from hearing
about them here and there.

There was a dashing man wearing a beautifully decorated suit of golden

armor with floral motifs in the accents. He was Saint Rivalen of Aegis
Rose, also known as Shield Wall — a distinguished knight known for his
gallant demeanor and stalwart character.

There was also an elegant older gentleman leaning on a black cane. He was
Jest of the Dagonet clan — a former member of the cohort led by the
founder of Clan Valor and one of the most experienced Awakened of the
Sword Army. Among other things, Saint Jest was known for his peculiar
True Name… Not So Funny Anymore.

Sunny really didn't know what to make of that fact, however, he was quite
curious about the older Saint. They shared the bitter fate of having an
extremely weird name, after all.

There were a few others, as well…

However, before Sunny could properly study them, the King of Swords
arrived.

The war council was about to begin.

1853 The King’s Speech

When the king entered, everyone in the chamber straightened… everyone

except for Sunny, naturally, who was the only person sitting comfortably on
a wooden chair. Anvil spared him a short glance — which was heavy
enough to make Sunny pale behind the mask — and took his seat calmly.

Once the King of Swords was seated, the rest of the Saints took their places
behind the round table. Because of its peculiar shape, everyone here seemed
to be an equal… however, that equality was merely an illusion. Anvil did
not do anything, and yet his suffocating superiority was painfully apparent.

Consequently, those who sat closest to him were above the rest. Morgan sat
to his right, while Nephis sat to his left. As for Sunny himself, he was
almost on the other side of the table.

At the same time, he was standing near the wall with the rest of the Fire
Keepers. The Masters and a few Awakened who had been invited to
participate in the war council did not get a spot behind the table.

There were a few moments of silence before Anvil's deep, strangely

enthralling voice resonated in the stone chamber. He spoke evenly and
plainly, in a strangely calm tone — as if what he was talking about was a
mundane matter, not a war that would shape the future of humanity… or
maybe even destroy it.

"Welcome, warriors of the Sword Domain. We have carved out a piece of

this cursed land and established a fortress atop the ancient bones of a dead
deity. Our blades are sharp, and our will is triumphant… for now. The
forces of Song have had a hard time achieving what we had achieved with
relative ease, but there is no wisdom in belittling their valor. Those who
underestimate the enemy are destined to fall. The cost of arrogance is
death."

He gazed at them coldly and continued in an indifferent tone:

"There is no one in the world who knows Ki Song, the Queen of Worms,
better than I do. So, I tell you this: there is no end to the insidious schemes
woven by that woman. You should prepare yourself to taste bitterness as her
machinations unfold. However, I also promise you this — at the end of it
all, we will taste the sweetness of victory."

Hearing those words, Sunny couldn't help but sigh.

At that moment, he suddenly realized how tragic this war must have seemed
to the rest of humanity — for reasons entirely different from the ones he
himself had considered before.

Anvil said that there was no one in the world who knew Ki Song better than
him, and it was most likely true. Sunny was used to thinking about these
two as nebulous and sinister figures — as tyrants of immense power who
secretly controlled the fate of humanity. The Sovereigns.

But they had been mere mortals before attaining Supremacy — Awakened
warriors no different from him. More than that, they had been members of
the same cohort.

So, this was a bitter war between two people who had once braved the
horrors of the Nightmare Spell together, and fought side by side in the
depths of hell. It was no different from Sunny raising an army against
Cassie, to kill her and take her kingdom for himself.

'It's actually… quite sad.'

These people had been the hope of humanity once. Now… the Smile of
Heaven was gone. Broken Sword was dead, as well. Asterion was who
knew where, and the last two were determined to destroy each other.

It made Sunny wonder what would happen to his own cohort in the future.

He could not know the future, of course… but he did know that, at the very
least, they would never end up as the Sovereigns. Not the least of all
because the Sovereigns were there, in front of them, as a cautionary tale —
without their appalling example, Sunny and his companions might very
well have unknowingly ended up becoming them.

He inhaled deeply and briefly glanced at Nephis.

The King of Swords, meanwhile, continued:

"Now that we have established a foothold in Godgrave, we must persist into

its depths. The next stage of our campaign will be both perilous and vital.
Fortunately… I am here. I am with you, so who can be against you?"

Those were big words, but he was also someone who could speak them
without sounding boastful.

After that, Anvil succinctly explained the goals looming over the Sword
Army. Sunny ignored the flowery words and listened only to the underlying
message that the Sovereign of Valor wanted to relay.

Fundamentally, the Domain War was a clash between the King of Swords
and the Queen of Worms. It would reach its culmination when the two of
them faced each other in battle, and end when one of them killed the other.

The key to gaining a decisive advantage in that final confrontation were the
Citadels scattered across Godgrave. Possessing more of them would allow
one of the Sovereigns to manifest their Domain more thoroughly, and make
that Domain stronger.

Therefore, the two great armies were merely tools for taking control of the
Citadels.

Valor was already ahead of Song in that regard, and there seemed to be
nothing that could prevent them from widening the gap. With their
Sovereign present in Godgrave, the task of subjugating lost Citadels would
become much easier.

Which was not to say that it would be easy.

Although the King of Swords could already manifest his Domain here, his
power was still contained in the immediate area around the Ivory Island.
That allowed the camp of his army an incredible degree of protection
against external threats, and made the task of venturing into the
subterranean jungle less daunting. But the warriors of Valor still had to
brave their incinerating expanse of the surface and the dark depths of the
Hollows to uncover and conquer the overgrown Citadels.

As for where those Citadels were located…

At some point, Anvil paused for a few moments and shifted his gaze to the
masked figure sitting on the other side of the round table.

His voice was calm when he said:

"Regarding this matter, I will ask the person who knows most about
Godgrave to give us an explanation. Saint Shadow… if you will."

Sunny lingered for a bit, then sighed and leaned forward a little.

"Sure. Let's see… for a godforsaken hell unfit to be inhabited by humans,

Godgrave has a surprising number of Citadels…"
1854 The Shadow’s Response

The King of Swords certainly had a commanding presence, but when the
Lord of Shadows spoke, it was hard not to pay attention to him as well.

Both possessed a cold indifference to them, but while Anvil's voice was
calm and regal, Sunny's was sinister and dark.

The impenetrable darkness nestling in the eyes of his ferocious mask only
made him seem more eerie and captivating.

Leaning forward a little, he spoke in an even tone…

Or rather, he pretended to. In truth, he simply activated the enchantment of

the Extraordinary Rock and allowed it to repeat what he had spoken aloud
earlier, before summoning Weaver's Mask.

"There are no more Citadels to be conquered on the surface, and I can't say
anything about the sea of ash below — even for me, that place is too dire.
However, there are several strongholds hidden in the Hollows, which I have
scouted out extensively in the last few years."

Sunny pretended to pause for a moment, then moved his hand subtly.

Following his command, shadows crawled from the floor and flowed onto
the round table like a stream of darkness. There, they solidified and
manifested into a flawless model of the dead deity — a trick he had used
once before in front of the Fire Keepers.

Soon, it was as if a large black skeleton was laying on the wooden surface
of the council table.

There was a wave of whispers in the stone chamber. Sunny allowed it to

pass, and then continued coldly with the help of the Extraordinary Rock:

"I know the approximate location of four Citadels. One is situated in the
western part of the Collarbone Hollow, and is the closest one to the war
camp of the Song Army. Taking it would, without a doubt, become a
priority to them, since they need to conquer a Citadel desperately. The
second is located in the central part of the Breastbone Hollow, at an equal
distance from both of the war camps — considering our advantage, we
should be able to reach it first."

Sunny leaned back and crossed his arms.

"The third is situated far below, in the spine of the dead god. Reaching that
one would be much more challenging… all of Godgrave is hell, but the
great Spine Hollow is one of the most dreadful parts of that hell, by far. The
fourth Citadel is the furthest, and is hidden all the way in the far south, in
one of the two Femur Hollows."

He lingered for a few moments, and then commanded the Extraordinary

Rock to speak the last prepared lines:

"I… suspect that there is a fifth Citadel, as well. If there is, it is situated in
the skull of the dead deity. However, that place is far too harrowing. I have
never dared approach it, and I suggest that none of you try, either. Whatever
is hidden there should never be disturbed by humans."

Sunny had indeed never ventured close to the colossal skull of the dead
god. Even though it could be seen from anywhere in Godgrave, propped up
by the mountains and staring at the ancient corpse with its enormous, empty
eyes, it was the last place he ever wanted to explore.

Sure, the ancient darkness drowning the great chasms of the skeleton's eyes
was nebulous and alluring, promising mysteries beyond his imagination —
and, maybe, keys to unimaginable power.

Who knew what could be hidden in the head of a dead deity? Maybe it was
the secret of its death. But no matter what the secret was, it had to be
something of tremendous importance.

And yet, Sunny felt it in his own bones that trying to enter the colossal skull
would result in a death more thorough than any he had brushed against
before. He wouldn't be surprised if there was an Unholy Titan dwelling
there — and he was not ready to face an Unholy Titan.
Simply witnessing a creature like that could very well cause Sunny's mind
to shatter and his soul to collapse.

His final words were met by a tense silence. The gathered Saints studied the
black skeleton laying on the table with somber expressions.

Eventually, Morgan asked in a subdued tone:

"Saint Shadow… how sure are you that these locations you've discovered
are indeed Citadels, and not simply ancient ruins?"

Sunny shrugged.

"As sure as I can be."

In truth, he was reasonably certain, but there was always room for doubt.
He had never explored the interiors of the supposed Citadels, since there
were immensely powerful abominations guarding each of them. But he had
learned enough to believe in his judgment.

Hearing his response, Morgan smiled.

"How fortunate it is that my sister managed to convince you to share your

knowledge, then."

The King of Swords gazed at him once more, then spoke evenly:

"The course of action is clear. For now, it is too perilous to send our soldiers
into the Hollows. We need to proceed slowly by conquering the surface and
make our way to the center of the Breastbone Plain. From there, we will
launch an assault on the Citadel situated below it."

That was just as expected. During this first stage of the war, both armies
would be preoccupied with the laborious task of subjugating the surface of
Godgrave. They would move deeper inland, eradicating the jungle and
mapping out the major fissures in the ancient bone. Then, fortified outposts
would be built near the fissures to stop the jungle from crawling out of the
Hollows once again, thus slowly expanding the zone of human control.
It seemed like a titanic task, to conquer the colossal skeleton, one crack in
the bone at a time. But Sunny was not stupid enough to underestimate the
tenacity of the human pioneers.

All regions of the Dream Realm had once seemed impregnable. And yet,
humans had slowly conquered them, one after the other — Clan Valor in
particular was responsible for subjugating the vast territory between the
Twilight Sea and the Hollow Mountains. The story of their expansionist
crusades was the stuff of legends in and of itself.

And while humanity had never conquered a Death Zone before, its
expedition forces had never been as vast, and had never been led by rulers
of the Supreme Rank, either.

So, Sunny had no doubt that the surface of Godgrave would fall into human
hands eventually. Perhaps it would take many months, and cost countless
lives. But the result had already been decided — the Sovereigns had willed
it, and so, their wills would reshape the world to fit their ambitions.

He looked at the King of Swords, and at the same time, the king looked at
him.

Anvil remained silent for a moment, then said without any emotion in his
powerful voice:

"While most of us will be paving the road south, you will have another task,
Saint Shadow."

Sunny raised an eyebrow behind the mask.

"Oh?"

The King of Swords shifted his gaze to the black skeleton, looking intently
at the spot where the war camp of the Song Army was supposed to be.

When he spoke, his tone contained authority that could not be denied:

"You will venture to disrupt the enemy's attempts to conquer the Western
Citadel. The location of your own stronghold is quite convenient for
launching raids... so, I expect you to deliver good results."
1855 Sudden Assignment

Considering how fast the road to Godgrave had been built, Rain really
should not have been surprised — but the warcamp of the Song Army was
being constructed at astonishing speed.

Just a few days had passed since they made it to the collarbone of the dead
deity, and yet it already resembled a city. Of course, it was mostly a tent
city, considering how hard it was to deliver building materials to this
dreadful land.

The lack of materials was not the only problem they faced, either. There
was something much more dire slowing down the construction — the fact
that the camp was endlessly besieged from all sides by the vile
abominations of the scarlet jungle.

The jungle might have been pushed back, but it did not disappear. Even
after being reduced to ash, it was already crawling back from the cracks in
the ancient bone. The sun-bleached surface of the plain was covered by red
moss and vermilion grass once again, and one could see the jungle grow
and spread at astonishing speed with a naked eye.

The soldiers of the Song Domain had spent each day battling the constant
onslaught of Nightmare Creatures, stalling them until the fortifications were
completed.

Luckily, most of those Nightmare Creatures were newborns. They were

immensely powerful and absolutely lethal, but at least the Awakened could
contend with them… albeit just barely. When something more terrible
emerged from below the ground or was allowed to grow truly dangerous by
devouring other abominations, the Ascended officers and Transcendent
generals took to the battlefield.

The Seventh Legion had participated in defending the camp, as well. Rain
had lost count of how many arrows she let loose. It was a good thing that
she was wearing the Puppeteers Shroud — its bracer, made from lusterless
black leather, was still in one piece. A mundane one would have been
already shredded by the string of her powerful bow.

Tamar, Ray, and Fleur had also participated in the battles, earning more than
a few scratches here and there. Luckily, Saint Seishan was an experienced
leader and stellar commander, so the casualties suffered by the Seventh
Legion were among the lowest among all divisions of the Song Army.

Still, their first week in Godgrave had been a horrid nightmare.

...Invading a Death Zone was just as harrowing of an endeavor as it

sounded.

There were no nights here, so counting days was a bit hard. Nevertheless,
Rain was more or less sure that it was currently early morning. She
splashed some water on her face in the washroom attached to the barracks
and was in the process of preparing breakfast for the cohort when a subtle
voice suddenly resounded from her shadow:

"Rise and shine!"

Rain turned her head and stared at the shadow.

She was rarely alone these days, and there were many powerful people in
the camp. So, there were few opportunities for her to talk to her teacher —
they had only exchanged a few words since the army entered Godgrave.

Rain could barely remember the last time she spoke to him so little. She
missed her teacher's company… although, of course, she would never admit
it aloud.

"What happened?"

He would not have risked exposing his presence without a reason.

Her teacher sighed.

"I won't be able to accompany you for the next few hours. So, be careful…
and don't stand out."
Rain frowned.

"What? Why?"

There was no answer. Instead, Tamar — who had woken up even earlier —
walked over to the fire, covering a tired yawn with a hand.

"Who are you talking to?"

Rain looked at her, remained silent for a moment, then smiled.

"Just talking to myself."

Tamar shrugged and sat down, then looked at the fire.

There was supposed to be a large kitchen with dedicated staff to feed the
legion, but it had not been built yet. So, for now, each cohort was provided
with supplies to cook for themselves.

"Are Ray and Fleur still asleep?"

Rain nodded.

Recently, she had been surprised to learn that the other two members of the
cohort were an item even since meeting at the Awakened Academy. They
did not show it often — which was understandable, in current
circumstances — but the two were more or less inseparable.

Rain's addition to the cohort had saved Tamar from the awkward fate of
being the perpetual third wheel.

The Legacy girl sighed.

"Alright. Then, come with me."

Rain raised an eyebrow.

"Huh? Where are we going?"

Tamar rose, swept her hair back, and dusted off the pauldrons of her armor.

"There is a big meeting happening at the command pavilion. Two members

of our cohort are supposed to escort Lady Seishan as honor guards.
Congratulations... try to look presentable and don't do anything
outrageous."

Rain's eyes widened. She took the pot off the fire, placed it on the ground,
and hurriedly stood up.

"Wait! Why our cohort?"

The younger girl shrugged.

"Probably as a sign of respect to my father. In any case, I received orders to

arrive immediately. There's no time to waste, so let's go."

Rain blinked a couple of times, glanced at her shadow, and then followed
Tamar to the center of the Seventh Legion's encampment.

They met the Queen's daughter there. That was the first time Rain happened
to be so close to Saint Seishan — she tried very hard not to stare, but it was
a bit hard. The woman was just too beautiful, mysterious, and
mesmerizing.

And there was a… a presence about her. Rain couldn't quite explain it, but
she felt funny near the graceful princess of Song. It was as though a strange
sense of calm and tranquility had overcome her.

At the same time, her blood turned cold in her veins, and her tattoo moved
slightly, constricting her arm.

Tamar and Lady Seishan exchanged a few words. They seemed to be

acquainted with each other, albeit on a very shallow level — which was not
surprising, considering their backgrounds. Finally, Tamar introduced Rain
to the princess.

Saint Seishan looked at her and smiled elegantly.

"Awakened Rani. I'll be in your care."

Rain felt frozen for a moment, then bowed awkwardly.

"M—my lady."

With that, they headed to the command pavilion, which was situated in the
heart of the camp.

As they walked, the wind carried the sounds of battle from the exterior of
the encampment. The fighting never really stopped, so Rain had grown
somewhat used to it. She still shivered, though, earning a stern look from
Tamar.

'What? It's not like you're not having nightmares almost every night,
yourself!'

She made an attempt to look calm and fell behind Saint Seishan, playing the
role of an honor guard… which was a bit ridiculous, really, considering that
the task of protecting a Transcendent was not something an Awakened like
her could do.

Soon, they reached the command pavilion — which was a larger tent
reinforced with some masonry — and walked inside.

There, Rain almost lost her composure.

'D—damnation!'

The "big meeting" Tamar had mentioned… the Legacy girl seemed to be
the queen of understatement!

The diffused sunshine was pouring through the blue fabric of the tent,
flooding its interior with cold light. Bathed in it…

Was everyone.

Every Saint of the Song Army, and most of the prominent Masters serving
the Queen. There were a few Awakened, as well, most of them escorting
their officers like Tamar and Rain were.

Rain had already been overwhelmed from being in proximity to one Saint…

But now, she was looking at dozens of them!

There were other princesses other than Lady Seishan, as well…

She took a shaky breath and barely managed to regain her composure.

However, a moment later, that composure was shattered by a sudden,

explosive thought.

'I'm… I'm not going to meet the queen, am I?!'

1856 Champions of Song

Saint Seishan did not seem daunted by the astonishing power and status of
the people gathered in the command pavilion — which should not have
been surprising, really, considering that she was a princess herself.

Rain, however, was overwhelmed. There were close to fifty Transcendent

champions around her, and each of them possessed a presence. Some auras
were subtle, while some were forceful — they were all undeniable, though,
almost making her feel dizzy.

Or drunk, maybe… in any case, it was an intense feeling.

She furtively glanced at Tamar. The Legacy girl was not really showing it,
but Rain could tell that she was affected by the wondrous atmosphere of the
tent, as well.

They were protected by the calm presence of Saint Seishan, at least.

Without it, their state would have been even worse.

Lady Seishan walked across the spacious room with her usual elegant poise,
greeting her sisters and vassal Saints gracefully as she went. Somewhat
relieved, Rain was finally able to look around.

She regretted it almost immediately.

'Ah… that is simply unfair…'

Everyone around her was chillingly beautiful. It was as if she was in a

lavish museum where every sculpture and painting had come alive. She had
seen plenty of stunning people before, and was not so bad herself… but
surrounded by the nobility of the Song Domain, Rain couldn't help but feel
utterly plain.

Judging by Tamar's wistful expression, she felt the same.

'Why am I surprised?'
She was looking at Saints, after all. Competing with a Saint in terms of
one's looks was a fool's errand.

Consoling herself that way, she tried to assign the names she had heard to
the beautiful faces.

Rain had heard a lot about the most prominent figures of the Domain while
living in Ravenheart, of course. She learned more about them from Tamar
in the recent weeks, as well. So, they were not complete strangers.

She knew Saint Seishan, of course. The commander of the Seventh Legion
was somewhat obscure, and there was little known about her. She had been
the last of the seven Transcendent princesses to become a Saint — however,
that did not mean that she was weaker or younger than the rest.

It was just that Lady Seishan had spent almost ten years as a Sleeper on the
Forgotten Shore. After returning from that ordeal, she attained
Transcendence in a fraction of time that the others had required. In fact, it
often felt like the rest of the queen's daughters treated her with a lot of
respect. Especially those who were still Masters.

Queen Song had more than seven daughters — adopted daughters, of

course. It was just that only seven had become Saints so far.

The next person who attracted Rain's attention almost made her stumble.

It was hard not to notice him, considering that there were relatively few
men in the command pavilion. The one she couldn't help but stare at was
tall, with broad shoulders and narrow thighs, wearing an austere armor with
few adornments.

He had a somber look and cold, deep eyes. His face was mature and way…
way too handsome! Most importantly, he had tan skin and strange ashen
hair.

It was Tamar's dad!

Rain blinked a couple of times, then blushed a little and looked away. The
man was at least two decades older than her, but he was also a Saint. She
couldn't help but feel a little out of breath, and looked at Tamar with a silent
question.

The Legacy girl frowned, then whispered:

"Yes, that is my father."

Rain's eyes widened a little.

'Damn, Tamar! I didn't tell me that your dad was… was a total smoke
show!'

Shaking her head, she tried to distract herself by looking at someone else.

That, as well, was a terrible mistake. Because the first person who caught
her eyes was none other than Beastmaster, a woman so breathtaking and
tantalizing that there were countless songs written about her.

Even the thin scar that marred her demonically beautiful face did nothing to
detract from her beauty. Instead, it only made it more alluring… hypnotic,
almost. Impossible to look away from.

Rain knew that Beastmaster had earned that scar somewhere in Antarctica.
Awakened did not usually have scars, since their bodies could recover better
than those of mundane people, and there were plenty of people with healing
Aspects around. The fact that a princess of Song could not erase such a long
scar suggested that the wound that had left it was not ordinary.

Nevertheless, Beastmaster wore it like a badge of honor.

Rain barely managed to look away and concentrated on a few other people
in the command pavilion.

'Let's see. Silent Stalker, Princess Moonveil, Lonesome Howl … and that
must be Revel, the Dark Dancer.'
Those were four of the remaining five Transcendent princesses. The last one
was missing, or at least Rain failed to recognize her.

Silent Stalker was strangely unassuming. In fact, it was hard to notice her at
all — the woman was standing near the wall of the pavilion, leaning on a
support beam and half-hidden in the shadows. There was a silent aura about
her, but her gleaming eyes were focused and attentive. She was wearing a
black hunting attire.

Moonveil was delicate and beautiful, with a slender build and a soft, pale
face. Her hair was white, and her eyes seemed to glimmer with the
afterglow of pale moonlight. She wore a modest dress instead of an armor,
but Rain could recognize a fellow archer when she saw one.

Lonesome Howl was tall, lithe, and full of barely contained bestial energy.
Her handsome face was illuminated by a slight grin, and her eyes were full
of cocky confidence. She wore leather trousers and a sleeveless vest,
leaving her toned, tan arms exposed.

Lastly… there was Revel, the Dark Dancer, also known as the Lightslayer.
She was the first of the Queen's daughters to have Transcended, and
therefore somewhat of a senior to the rest.

Her hair was raven-black, and her eyes were like two obsidian gems. With
her dark clothes, alabaster skin, and exquisite beauty, she was undeniably
striking. As for her character, Rain couldn't tell what the princess was like.
All she could see was that there was depth to her gaze, and a subtle
coldness to her features.

If Rain had to say anything, though… it was that Lightslayer looked a little
forlorn. As if she was missing something that she would never have.

'What a strange thought.'

Just as Rain thought that, Princess Revel suddenly spoke, her slightly husky
voice easily resonating across the pavilion.

"Let us begin."
1857 Missing Invitation

Lightslayer was sitting at the head of the table. Bestmaster was to her right,
while Lady Seishan was to her left. Since Rain and Tamar were escorting
the latter, they were standing behind her chair.

The former, meanwhile, used enthralled Nightmare Creatures as her escorts.

Two ethereal, ghostly figures were drifting in the air behind her, almost
invisible in the pale light of the command pavilion — even knowing that
they were subdued by one of the queen's daughters, Rain couldn't help but
feel uneasy in their presence.

She was usually in the company of a sinister wraith of her own. Today,
however, her teacher had left her alone — no doubt to avoid being sensed
by the plethora of Saints gathered here.

…Dark Dancer Revel had come alone.

She gazed at the champions of the Song Army, remained silent for a while,
and then spoke in her subtle, husky voice:

"Brothers and sisters, all of you should know the situation. Godgrave is a
cruel place, and we have suffered from its cruelty. In the days and months to
come, we will suffer more, and we will suffer greatly. There is no mercy to
be found under this ruthless sky, and no salvation from the perils that
besiege us."

Rain expected that Lightslayer would continue with a "but", but to her
surprise, the princess made no attempt to lift the spirits of her comrades.
Her rather bleak proclamation simply hung in the air, and the faces of the
gathered Saints slowly turned somber.

Rain and Tamar were just close enough to see Revel sparing a short, almost
imperceptible glance at Lady Seishan. After receiving a similarly subtle
nod, she smiled coldly.
"What most of you might not know is how the enemy is faring on the other
side of the Collarbone Plain. Let me inform you… the enemy is faring well.
They have entered Godgrave and established a fortified encampment
without suffering any significant losses. Their fortress is impregnable, and
they have no shortage of supplies. They are already moving their forces to
carve a path south, aiming to claim a second — or maybe even a third —
Citadel."

She paused for a moment, and then added indifferently:

"The reason for the enviable progress of the Sword Army is rather simple. It
is because they are protected by their Sovereign, while we are not. The
tyrant, King of Swords, is already here in Godgrave. But my mother is still
waiting for us to extend her an invitation."

Lightslayer gazed at the Saints and finished in an even tone:

"So, we will dedicate ourselves to conquering a Citadel of our own

immediately."

There was a wave of whispers, followed by a tense silence. In that silence, a

deep voice resounded, forcing Rain to look at the far end of the table.

"Forgive me for speaking out, my lady…"

The speaker was a man that looked relatively young, but nevertheless made
quite an impression. He was tall and had an incredibly powerful build, with
muscles so robust that they strained the fabric of his lavish pangolin coat.
His skin had a darker hue, and he emanated a feeling of dire physical
might.

Rain recognized him easily — the young Saint was rather famous these
days, albeit not for a good reason.

He was Dar of the Maharana clan, who had just returned from conquering
the Third Nightmare. As such, he was the youngest of all human Saints —
or, at least, the most recent. A rejected demand to hand him over to Clan
Valor was what had sparked this entire war.
Officially, at least.

Of course, the hypocritical justification the King of Swords had provided

seemed quite flimsy even back then. Now that everyone knew that Dar of
the Maharana clan had been in the depths of a Nightmare when the
assassination attempt on Changing Star happened, it seemed even more
preposterous.

The mighty Saint continued soberly:

"Our own situation is not entirely stable, yet. Secure supply chains have yet
to be established, and our camp can barely be called a stronghold. The
enemy is indeed ahead of us, but what will we achieve by rushing? Won't
we just make our disadvantage more dire by plunging head first into a battle
that we are not quite ready to fight?"

Rain noticed that the Saint of Sorrow looked at the younger Transcendent
with a hint of curiosity… which was the first semblance of emotion that the
somber man had shown thus far.

She glanced at Tamar and suppressed a smile.

It was too easy to see where the younger girl's mannerisms had all come
from.

In any case, Saint Dar was making a lot of sense. Since he was, Rain almost
expected that he would be accused of cowardice, but luckily, none of the
people gathered in the command pavilion were fools. They kept quiet,
either sharing his opinion or waiting for the daughters of the queen to react.

In the ensuing silence, it was Beastmaster who smiled and said in a

beguiling tone:

"You don't have to worry about the enemy's progress. Leave those worries
to your queen. Trust in my mother, like you have trusted her thus far, and
she shall grant you victory. "
Although she was not a biological sister to the Dark Dancer, their voices
were strangely alike.

Saint Dar frowned and wanted to say something, but at that moment, the
fold covering the entrance to the pavilion moved, and a new figure entered.

A petite young woman walked in, wearing a dark robe. There was a hint of
innocence on her lovely face, and a strange calmness in her large, glistening
eyes.

In stark contrast to that innocence, however, were heavy drops of blood

falling from her slick hands.

Rain tried not to stare.

'The missing princess.'

The last of the seven Transcendent daughters of Ki Song had finally arrived.
She was Hel, the Death Singer — one of the most mysterious and revered
Saints of the Song Domain.

Despite how ominous she looked, that with fresh blood smeared all across
her hands, the young woman was not that sinister. She was a haruspex — or
rather, a haruspicina — a diviner who received revelations by inspecting the
entrails of sacrificial beasts.

The gathering grew quiet when the oracle appeared and slowly made her
way to where Lightslayer, Beastmaster, and Lady Seishan were seated.

Rain frowned a little.

'Come to think of it… how come I don't know Saint Seishan's True Name?'

She had to have one. But, to Rain's knowledge, no one had ever spoken it
aloud.

Death Singer, meanwhile, reached the head of the table, leaned down, and
whispered something into her sister's ear.
Lightslayer smiled.

"Responding to your question, Saint Dar. There is indeed no much sense in

rushing into battle. That is why we will split our forces and rush into two
battles, instead…"
1858 Precipice

Princess Hel had not spoken after whispering something in Lightslayer's

ear. She took her seat and remained silent, the blood continuing to drip from
her hands to the floor.

The war council continued for a while, since there were a lot of minor
issues that had to be relayed, considered, and ironed out. Rain listened with
rapt attention, knowing that what was being discussed in the command
pavilion would directly impact, and maybe even decide, her fate.

And, in a way, it did.

It really seemed like the Sword Army was on a sure path to overwhelming
the forces of Song — the aggressor that had initiated this vile conflict was
far ahead, and widening the gap with each day. Which hardly seemed fair.

However, the queen's daughters were strangely calm about the entire
situation. Instead of maintaining caution and employing a conservative
strategy, like one would when dealing with a superior enemy, they chose to
act with an unsettling boldness.

Eventually, the meeting was over, and everyone who had gathered in the
command pavilion hurried outside. There was a lot for them to do.

Dar of the Maharana clan left with a dark smile on his lips. The Saint of
Sorrow spared his daughter a glance, nodded curtly, and walked outside
with the same bleak expression. The daughters of Ki Song soon followed.

However, Lady Seishan remained motionless. So did Beastmaster and

Lightslayer.

Eventually, the three sisters were the only ones left in the command
pavilion — not counting Rain, Tamar, and the wraiths hovering behind
Beastmaster.

It seemed like they wanted to discuss something in private.

Tamar cleared her throat.

"Should we give you privacy, Lady Seishan?"

Their commander looked back and smiled.

"No need, young Tamar. Just make sure to stay quiet."

She didn't specify whether they were meant to stay quiet during the
following discussion or about it. In any case, Rain wasn't going to talk.

She had already been forced to flee Ravenheart because of knowing too
much.

Lightslayer looked at Tamar, then reached back and pulled up the hood of
her dark mantle. A moment later, her eyes were hidden in deep shadow, and
a small sigh escaped from her lips.

"Will you two be able to handle what needs to be done?"

The three sisters would soon be in command of the split army.

Beastmaster would remain in the warcamp with a part of Song forces. Her
task was to finish the construction of the fortress while defending it from
the onslaught of Nightmare Creatures.

Saint Seishan, meanwhile, would lead an expedition force toward the

location where one of the Citadels of Godgrave was supposedly located.
Death Singer, the diviner, would lead them across the surface of the ancient
bone until they reached a broad area above their target.

From there, the elites of the expedition force would venture into the
Hollows and conquer the Citadel. The task seemed absolutely lethal, and
victory was not certain. However, Lady Seishan remained calm and poised,
not showing even the smallest hint of hesitation.

It was as if there was no question whether she would take the Citadel, only
how soon, and at what cost.
If she did prevail, however… Queen Song would be able to manifest her
Domain in Godgrave, and their position would not seem so hopeless
anymore.

The last sister, Lightslayer, would neither remain in the camp nor join the
expedition force. Instead, she would attempt to do… something.

Rain wasn't quite sure what, because the details had not been shared with
anyone. All that the Dark Dancer had said was that she would venture to
slow down the enemy's progress. She was not going to command any
troops, but she would take a few Saints with her.

As Rain was wondering what, exactly, Lightslayer was planning to do,

Saint Seishan answered her question:

"It's alright, Revel. We'll be fine. You don't have to worry."

The raven-haired beauty looked at her and smiled darkly.

"When have I ever worried? Ask anyone. In the ten years that you were
missing, I haven't worried once."

Beastmaster laughed.

"How callous."

Lady Seishan shook her head.

"If you want to be worried about someone, worry about yourself. Out of the
three of us, your task is the most uncertain."

Lightslayer looked at her from beneath her hood.

"What's uncertain about it? Howl, Silence, and Moon are coming with. So
is the Saint of Sorrow. You know that we are prepared."

Lady Seishan lingered for a moment.

"Everything else is fine, but the Lord of Shadows is an unknown. We don't
know much about him. There are no traces… it is as if he conjured himself
out of thin air, like a daemon."

Her sister smiled darkly.

"Then he can disappear into thin air as well."

Rain was staring forward, pretending to be a dutiful guard.

There was a lot on her mind, though.

'Appeared out of thin air…'

Wasn't that how her teacher had appeared a few years ago?

She tried not to frown.

She did not know a lot about the Lord of Shadows, but he and her teacher
were strangely alike. They both commanded shadows, for one… there were
other similarities, too. She was half-convinced that they were the same
person, even.

However, her teacher had been by her side every day for the last four years,
while the Lord of Shadows had been in Godgrave all that time. Well, at
least he had been there for two winter solstices in a row, rescuing stray
Sleepers. Her teacher had never left her side, and they had been together on
those solstices as well.

So… what?

Was the Lord of Shadows a similar existence to her teacher? A disembodied

shadow that possessed great and strange powers, pursuing mysterious
goals? Were they, perhaps, comrades? Or at least had come from the same
source?

'I should ask Teacher.'

He would probably answer with some ridiculous nonsense, though.

At that moment, Beastmaster shifted, looked at Lady Seishan, and asked
somberly:

"What about the other? Has the Prince of Nothing sent any news?"

Lady Seishan lingered for a while, then smiled elegantly.

"Oh, yes."

For some reason, her elegant smile suddenly looked rather sinister.

Her pleasant, velvet voice resounded softly in the empty command pavilion:

"…He is about to start."

1859 Untold

Far away and beyond reach, a vast expanse of rolling water was glistening
under the starlit sky. Black clouds were flowing like tattered banners, torn
apart by the violent winds.

Colossal waves were rising and falling, each taller than a fortress wall.
Countless bolts of lightning were flashing, branching as they struck the
restless surface of the water.

Illuminated by the veil of lightning that connected its numerous masts to the
stars, a titanic ship was waging a war against the storm.

The ship was at least a kilometer across from port to starboard, but seemed
narrow because of its great length. Its ancient hull was made of wood, but
had no seams — it was as if the entire vessel had been created by hollowing
out a single branch that spanned more than a dozen kilometers from end to
end.

Although, if there was a tree with branches so immense, severing one

would not have been an easy feat. Fashioning a ship out of it would not
have been a task for mortals, either.

The titanic ship was like a city in and of itself. There were dozens of decks,
beautiful palaces and tall pagodas built on its surface, and great mysteries
hiding in its boundless holds. There were wild groves, rushing streams, and
deep lakes.

And people.

This was Night Garden, the great Citadel of the House of Night.

Despite the furious force of the storm, which would have destroyed any
other vessel, the Night Garden was moving through turbulent waters with
daunting, unstoppable ease. The colossal waves were cut apart by its proud
bow and broke powerlessly against its indestructible hull. The branching
bolts of lightning struck its masts and were absorbed by them, empowering
the ancient ship.

The terrible abominations that rose from unfathomable depths from time to
time to attack the great vessel were consumed by it, becoming parts of its
living hull.

Even in a region of the Dream Realm as strange and deadly as the

Stormsea, the people populating the Night Garden were relatively safe.

Tonight, however…

Human blood was spilled on its deck, flowing like a river.

The blood was absorbed by the ancient ship, as well.

"What… what are you doing…"

Close to the bow of the ship, an old man was crawling across the deck,
leaving a bloody trail in his wake. His voice was full of pain, confusion, and
sorrowful disbelief.

There was a younger man following him with unhurried steps, holding a
bloodied knife in his hand.

There was no emotion on the younger man's face, and no mercy in his eyes.

He shrugged.

"You didn't have to be stubborn, old man. This could all have been
avoided."

Behind him, a desperate scream tore apart the howling of the storm, and
then stopped abruptly. There were more screams further away, some of
them full of fear, some of them full of rage.

But with each minute, there were less and less of them.

The old man gritted his teeth.

"You've lost your mind!"

His killer sighed, then rubbed his face tiredly with a bloodied hand. For a
moment, he seemed incredibly exhausted, a spark of some unknown
emotion finally finding its way into his eyes.

"Have I? Ah, I'll admit… there might be some merit to your argument."

With that, he leaned down, grabbed the old man by the ankle, and dragged
him back while raising the knife.

"...But then again, who hasn't?"

The old man looked at him with horror.

His lips trembled.

"You! You are not my son!"

The younger man froze for a moment, then suddenly chuckled.

The hint of emotion drained from his eyes, leaving only terrible coldness.

"Aye. I've heard that one before…"

The knife fell down like the guillotine's blade.

The storm raged on.

***

[Wake up, Sunny!]

Sunny couldn't help but flinch, overcome by a strong sense of déjà vu.

There was a voice in his head, telling him to wake up… thankfully, it was
not the voice of the Nightmare Spell. It was Cassie's voice, albeit at that
moment, the two sounded eerily similar.
'Why is she…'

He was confused for a moment, but then remembered that not everyone was
truly familiar with the strange nature of his existence. His original body in
Godgrave was asleep, so Cassie must have assumed that she needed to
wake him.

His over two incarnations, however, very rarely slept — so, there was no
need for her to bother.

[What is it?]

There were a few moments of silence, as if Cassie was confused. Then, she
responded, a sense of urgency in her voice:

[You need to return to the camp.]

Standing in the great hall of the Nameless Temple, Sunny frowned.

The avatar hiding in Rain's shadow was momentarily disturbed, as well.

When was the last time Cassie had lost her composure like that?

He could barely remember.

[What are you talking about? I am in the camp.]

She answered almost immediately:

[The Lord of Shadow has to return. Something strange is happening.]

Sunny looked at the gates of the temple.

It was a long way from the southern edge of the dead god's breastbone to
the eastern reaches of the collarbone. He could make it relatively fast by
abusing Shadow Step, but it would still take considerable time, and drain
his reserves of essence.

Still, Cassie would not have called him back without a reason.
[What exactly is happening?]

There was a moment of silence, and then she answered in a tense voice:

[The House of Night is on the move. The king has summoned Nephis and
Morgan. I'll tell you more the moment I learn it, so hurry… no, wait…]

Cassie hesitated a little.

[There is no time. Return to NQSC. I'll pick you up and bring you back to
the camp. That will be faster.]

Sunny raised an eyebrow behind the mask.

'So, they finally decided to act. I wondered when they would.'

He had a suspicion that the House of Night would not remain on the
sidelines of the war despite their desperate efforts to claim neutrality… a
suspicion strong enough that it could very well be called certainty. He had
known that something like this would happen ever since that clash with the
Skinwalker outside Ravenheart.

Cassie and Nephis knew, as well. In fact, they had accounted for this
eventuality in their plans. At the end of the day, it did not really matter to
them which side gained an advantage in the war — because, eventually,
both sides would have to be destroyed.

But Cassie still sounded tense.

Why?

Suddenly, he regretted his caution. Maybe he should have tried to infiltrate

the command pavilion of the Song Army, after all. Or pressed Rain to share
military secrets with her usually disinterested teacher.

'There is only one way to find out.'

Actually, there were many ways to find out. But that was neither here nor
there.
Frowning deeply, Sunny reached into his soul and pulled on the tether.
1860 Turn of Fortune

There were plumes of smoke rising above NQSC.

Leaning against a dirty wall in the depths of the outskirts, Sunny looked at
the towering black pillars silently. A police PTV sped by, flooding the deep
darkness of the night with bright lights of the blaring siren. He hid himself
deeper in the shadows and crossed his arms.

'Several locations, most of them close to the city center.'

Fires were not a rarity in NQSC, but not on that scale, and not in the
affluent districts at the heart of the city.

What had happened? Was the agreement to leave the war out of the waking
world broken, already?

[How far are you?]

There was a moment of silence.

[Less than a minute.]

Soon, a luxurious PTV screeched to a halt in front of him. The passenger

door opened, and Cassie stepped out of the vehicle, looking a little
disheveled. She remained motionless for a few moments, then turned in his
direction, winced, and hurriedly smoothed her hair.

Sunny emerged from the shadows and walked over.

"What the hell is happening?"

For now, he was wearing the mask he had fashioned himself. So, it was the
only opportunity to have an honest conversation with Cassie — once they
reached Godgrave, he would have to don Weaver's Mask in order to keep
his secrets.
"Was the compound of Clan Valor attacked? The Dream Gate relay?
Storage facilities?"

She hesitated briefly, then shook her head.

"It's all the House of Night. Their strongholds across the city have gone up
in flames. It's total chaos."

Sunny was surprised.

"...They were attacked?"

A deep frown creased Cassie's delicate brow.

"For now, it seems like infighting."

'What?'

It took him a moment to process the information. The members of the

House of Night were fighting among each other?

Was there a schism among the leaders of the great clan? Unlike Song and
Valor, which were monoliths held together by shared blood and familial
bonds, the House of Night had been born from an alliance of a dozen
Legacy clans — a decision dictated by the meteoric rise of the two great
families, to a large extent.

So, he could entertain the idea of internal strife resulting in an open conflict
during these trying times.

However, something did not smell right…

Sunny had a few ideas about who could have been behind the whole mess,
but he was not certain.

Cassie sent the PTV away and then faced him. Her expression was a little
strange.

"There are… defectors."

He raised an eyebrow behind the mask.

"Where are they defecting to?"

The blind seer seemed troubled.

"Several prominent figures of the House of Night appeared at the gates of

Clan Valor's stronghold here, in NQSC. Bloodied and with their family
members in tow. They are… asking for an asylum."

Now that was simply bizarre.

Sunny felt troubled, as well.

"Where are they now?"

Cassie offered him her hand.

"They are passing through the Dream Gate. The king will negotiate with
them — or interrogate them, depending on the situation — personally.
Everyone worth anything were summoned back to the camp. The situation
might turn more dire than we had anticipated."

He sighed, then took her hand and dismissed [Definitely Not Me].

Before summoning Weaver's Mask, he looked at Cassie somberly and said:

"Let's go see what all the noise is about, then."

Soon, he was standing on the emerald grass of the Ivory Island.

Sunny could see that the camp was much more lively than it should have
been.

The Sword Army had already ventured to carve a path south, with countless
Awakened soldiers, Masters, and Saints leaving the safety of the fortified
stronghold.

The progress was slow, but methodical and steady.

If the cloud veil did not break and the jungle was not incinerated, Saint
Tyris would part the clouds herself. Blinding sunlight would flood the bone
plain and turn the crimson growth — as well as those abominations that
were not fast enough to escape into the Hollows — to ash.

Then, after the Cloudveil repaired itself, the army would advance.

They would clash with the regrowing jungle and the Nightmare Creatures
being born in its scarlet depths, pushing toward the fissures in the bone that
served as the source of the dreadful infestation. The battles were punishing,
dire, and often prolonged — but with champions like Nephis and Summer
Knight spearheading the offensive, the Sword Army was slowly gaining
ground.

Once they reached a fissures and cut the roots of the jungle in the area, its
remnants would be burned, and a fortress would be constructed around the
fissure. A containment detachment would be left to garrison the fortress,
tasked with preventing the jungle from extending its tendrils to the surface
again.

By now, there was a disorderly chain of a dozen of these fortresses and

numerous smaller forts extending west, almost all the way to the point
where the collarbone and the breastbone connected.

Considering the current state of the main camp, though, most of the Saints
leading the expedition force had been recalled ahead of the scheduled
rotation.

Sunny did not know what exactly happened in NQSC… but he was quite
confident that the fortune of the Sword Army was about to turn for the
worst.

'Those Song sisters have been acting too calm, indeed.'

Shaking his head, he followed Cassie toward the Valor Keep — which was
the name given to the central stronghold of the camp by the soldiers.
The two of them entered under its heavy roof and were immediately guided
to a spacious chamber where many Saints had already gathered, all wearing
somber expressions on their faces.

"Lady Cassia, have you received any news? What exactly happened"

Cassie smiled briefly at the dashing Rivalen of Aegis Rose and shook her
head apologetically.

"I am on my way to see the King. There will be more clarity soon."

A Knight of Valor arrived, then hurriedly led Cassie and Sunny deeper into
the stronghold.

Soon, they entered a smaller chamber. There were only a few people inside
— all of them among the strongest and most important champions of the
Sword Army.

The King of Swords himself was sitting on an unadorned chair that had
been carved out of stone, wearing a cold expression. Morgan was standing
behind him, her usual air of polite amusement gone. Nephis was leaning
against a wall, her white armor smeared with ash.

Sunny spared her a brief glance, then looked away.

There were three other Saints of the Sword Army in the chamber — Sky
Tide, Summer Knight, and Sir Jest of Dagonet.

There was one more person, as well.

A handsome man was kneeling in front of the stone throne, his sunken face
marked by pain and fatigue. His presence possessed a mystifying depth to
it, as if most of him was hidden from sight.

His dark armor, crafted from the skin of some dreadful leviathan, was
severely damaged and bloodied.

The man had his head lowered, so Sunny could not see his eyes. However,
his black hair, strangely enough, had slight accents of dark blue.
Sunny's expression changed as he recognized his former friend and
comrade, Saint Naeve of the House of Night.

Cassie, meanwhile, bowed deeply.

"I brought him, Your Majesty."

Anvil spared her a glance and nodded.

"Just in time."

With that, he shifted his gaze to the Nightwalker, remained silent for a few
moments, and then asked in a cold, heavy tone:

"So, Saint Naeve. I've brought you and your people here, just as you
requested. Now, I think, it's time that you give me an explanation. There are
reports that the armada of the House of Night is on the move. Night Garden
itself has set sail. So, tell me... what, exactly, are your elders scheming?"

Naeve shivered slightly and lingered for a while, as if gathering courage.

Eventually, he took a deep breath, straightened, and looked the King of

Swords straight in the eyes.

When he spoke, his voice sounded firm:

"You are mistaken, Supreme Anvil. My elders are not scheming anything.
In fact… they are dead."

Naeve paused for a moment, and then added hoarsely:

"They have all been… turned. The House of Night is no more."

1861 Homecoming

Thick fog shrouded the shores of a nebulous sea. Below it, waves continued
their eternal assault on the indifferent barrier of land, dreaming of washing
it away. They rustled quietly, just like they had rustled for eons. Not far
away, the water was louder — there, a wide river fell into the sea, a deep
inlet created by its estuary.

Currently, there was a group of riders moving along the shore. Their steeds
were Echoes of slain abominations; their enchanted armor was damp with
morning dew. Their vermilion cloaks bore the insignia of Clan Valor.

They were Knights and Squires who had been left behind to protect the
fringes of the Sword Domain, currently on patrol.

As they approached the estuary, the leader of the patrol — a seasoned

Knight in heavy armor — raised a fist to command the rest to stop. He took
a canteen off his belt, drank some water, and then listened to the murmur of
waves.

Dreadful abominations would come from the depths of the Stormsea

sometimes and swim upriver, threatening the lands beyond. The weaker
ones would be slain in the shallows by patrolmen like them, but if a truly
powerful Nightmare Creature emerged from the depths, they would have to
retreat and prepare to fight it at Rivergate, the fortress of Clan Dagonet.

The shores of Stormsea were a strange place. Nights here were much longer
than they were deeper inland, and the stars were much brighter. The sun
never quite rose above the horizon, drowning the world in ethereal twilight
during the day. Time flowed slowly, and life seemed fleeting. In the
mornings, white fog veiled the world.

The Knight frowned and gazed into the fog.

Today, the sea sounded strange.

"Summon your weapons."

The patrolmen did as he said. They Echoes turned to face the shore, each
baring their fangs.

It seemed that a battle was upon them. Some felt tense because most of the
Sword Domain warriors had followed the king to war, hoping to punish the
wicked queen of Song. Others remained calm — no matter how many
warriors had left, the garrison of Rivergate was still strong, and the fortress
itself was still impregnable.

No matter what horror crawled from the sea, they would deal with it.

…A few moments later, however, their confidence was shattered.

The eyes of the warriors widened, and their faces paled. Even the Echoes
seemed daunted, a few of them shrinking back in response to the fear of
their masters.

A vast shadow appeared in the fog, towering above the shore like a dark
mountain. Then, it drew closer, dwarfing the world.

The patrolmen had to crane their necks just to guess the scale of the vague
shadow.

Their captain was petrified.

"W—wha…"

Before he could finish the sentence, the dark mountain was almost upon
them, its shape finally revealed from the fog.

It was the bow of a titanic ship.

"Back!"

They did not have time to react before the world shuddered.

The estuary was deep, but not deep enough. The gargantuan vessel rammed
the underwater slope of the shore at full speed, splitting it apart. A vast
gorge opened in the ground, reaching far inland, and the triumphant waves
finally had their dreams fulfilled — the roaring water rushed into the
abyssal chasm, causing the river to change course.

For a few moments, the bow of the ship flew even higher, and then slowly
plummeted down. When it fell, there was another quake. Countless tons of
foaming water were displaced and thrown into the sky, and the titanic vessel
slid forward hundreds of meters before finally coming to rest, beached and
leaning slightly to the side.

The tranquil shore had turned into a scene of utter devastation. The scale of
it was so immense that the human mind struggled to come to terms with it.
The colossal ship lay on the sand like a dark mountain, rivers of water
cascading down from its ancient hull. The barnacles encrusting the lower
parts of it were like a map of bygone eras, glistening bleakly in the dim
radiance of twilight.

The patrolmen had been thrown to the ground by the successive quakes.
Still stunned and horrified, they slowly climbed to their feet. Some raised
their weapons hesitantly, others tried to mount their monstrous steeds.

But all of them were staring at the monumental silhouette of the beached
vessel.

That was why they all noticed when a human figure appeared on the bow,
so high above them that it looked no larger than an ant.

The figure stood motionlessly for a few moments, gazing down. Then, it
took a step forward and fell, landing on the tilted slope of the ship's hull.
The figure slid down the ancient wood, gaining terrible speed, then pushed
itself off its surface and plummeted down.

He landed into the shallow water with a splash, then straightened gracefully
and took a step forward.

It was a man clad in dark leather armor. He was tall and slender, with pale
skin and raven-black hair. His face was sharp and thin — not exactly
handsome, but at the same time strangely beautiful. His eyes were like two
pools of liquid silver that reflected the world back on itself.
His gaze was cold and chilling, as if a deep dark ocean was barely
contained beneath the thin film of mirror-like silver.

Despite the fact that the man was alone, the crowd of patrolmen reeled
back, each overcome by sudden dread.

He walked across the shallow water, surrounded by swirling mist, and

stepped onto the shore. There, the man knelt, reached down, and carefully
— almost tenderly — picked up a handful of sand. Ignoring the warriors of
the Sword Domain, he looked at it for a while, then slowly made a fist and
let the sand slip through his fingers.

His lips twisted slightly, forming a dark, bitter, terrifying smile.

Standing up, the man turned his gaze to the patrolmen and walked toward
them with unhurried steps.

They gripped their weapons tighter.

The Knight who had led the patrol glanced at the titanic ship, then asked
hoarsely:

"The Night Garden… who are you? Why are you here?"

The man answered in a calm tone:

"Me? I am Prince Mordret of Valor, the rightful heir of these lands."

The eyes of the Knight widened slightly, while Mordret added with a cold
smile:

"And I am here to take what is mine."

The patrolmen shuddered.

Their leader gritted his teeth.

"It's you! You vile creature… the only thing that we will give you is death!"
Continuing to walk in their direction, Mordret laughed.

"I see someone has a very high opinion of himself."

His laughter stopped abruptly, and he pierced the Knight with an eerie,
frightening gaze.

"But are you sure that you are worthy?"

A moment later, more figures appeared on the bow of the Night Garden.

Mordret smiled.

"Because I have thirteen Transcendent bodies on that boat. I am also the

sole ruler of the Stormsea, the master of the Night Garden, and the owner of
all the Citadels of the South. Well… I guess, technically, the Citadels
belong to Queen Song. But why care about the technicalities?"

The Knight paled.

His hands trembled as he raised his sword, and a single word escaped from
his lips:

"T—traitor!"

The smile disappeared from Mordret's face, replaced by infinite coldness.

In the next moment, something whistled in the air, and the Knight fell to his
knees. His head rolled off his neck and fell into the sand, which was painted
red by the torrent of steaming blood.

Mordret shifted his gaze to the remaining warriors.

He remained silent for a few moments, and then smiled pleasantly.

"One should not forget his manners, don't you think? Ah, but today is a
special occasion. On such a special day, I am inclined to be forgiving. So...
the rest of you may go. Go on, run away. Oh, and tell your masters…"
As the warriors of Valor slowly backed away, then turned to run, he
watched them escape silently, and added with a dark gleam in his mirror-
like eyes:

"Tell them that I am coming."

Mordret closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.

"...I am coming home."

1862 Puppet Master

The nature of the war had changed overnight.

The Sword Domain had dominated the conflict from its very first day. Their
army was stronger, their progress was faster. They suffered fewer casualties
and gained more benefits. As time went on, their advantage seemed poised
to inevitably snowball into an overwhelming superiority. Even though the
two armies had not clashed directly yet, the warriors of Valor were already
winning.

All it took was a single person to completely reverse the situation.

That person was Mordret, the firstborn of the King of Swords — who
served the Queen of Worms now, ironically enough.

When Sunny first heard Naeve's proclamation, his eyes widened behind
Weaver's Mask.

'The House of Night…'

After the Chain of Nightmares, the position of the third Great Clan was
severely weakened. Without a Sovereign to rule it and a Dream Gate to
bring countless settlers to their territory, the House of Night lost the ability
to compete against Valor and Song. Its standing and resources were still
immense, but nowhere near the power of the two burgeoning Domains.

Nevertheless, the House of Night had not given up without a fight. Instead,
it seemed as though the threat of losing relevance had galvanized the
leaders of the lesser of the three Great Clans. In recent years, they had been
quite active. More than that, their actions were more decisive, daring, and
successful than ever before.

In just the last two years, the House of Night had laid siege to and
conquered seven new Citadels in the nebulous reaches of the Stormsea.
Such a feat had been unheard of before, and did a lot to bolster their
faltering renown.
Of course, now that Naeve had spoken, the true reason for these triumphs
was revealed to be quite different from what people believed, and chillingly
sinister.

It was not that the House of Night had become more daring or potent. It was
just that Mordret had stolen the body of one of its leaders. And then, like a
plague, he slowly spread through the ranks of the Nightwalkers, unseen and
unnoticed.

Not only had the rest of the world been none the wiser — even the members
of the House of Night itself had not suspected anything while their rulers
were being replaced, one by one. Not even the families of those taken by
the Prince of Nothing were able to discover that their parents, children, and
siblings had been switched.

There had been moments of friction and conflict, of course. There had been
tension and a feeling of unease, a subtle sense of alienation from those who
had been closest before… an eerie feeling that something was not quite
right.

But with how fast the world was changing, and how dire the situation of the
Great Clan was, people simply assumed that these rare instances of
incongruity were caused by the shifting demands of the turbulent times.

Mordret's deceit was too stellar.

Only a few had started to suspect that something terrible was happening
inside the House of Night. That the people who looked, talked, and acted as
their friends and family could have been… someone else. That there was
something alien hiding behind the familiar faces.

Naeve had been one of the first to start harboring that harrowing suspicion.
He did not describe what he had felt in those days, but Sunny could only
imagine how eerie, chilling, and nightmarish such an experience would be.
No, actually… he could not. His mind failed to imagine the appalling
scenes of what his former friend must have gone through.
At first, Naeve suspected that the House of Night had been infiltrated by the
Skinwalker. He made secret inquiries to make sure that there were no
Nightmare Creatures among the leaders of his clan, and proved that theory
wrong. His next steps were much more troublesome — he couldn't continue
the investigation alone, and did not know whom to trust.

Anyone around him could have been the enemy.

He did discover a few trustworthy allies in the end, though. They tried to
ascertain the scale and depths of the encroaching corruption… but it was
already too late.

They had run out of time.

All that they had managed to do was prepare a path of escape for
themselves and their families. That was how they ended up in front of the
Valor compound in NQSC, asking for asylum.

Sunny sucked in a stifled breath.

'Curse him…'

It seemed that Mordret had fully inherited Soul Stealer's Transcendent

Ability. He was able to split his soul — and that, in turn, allowed him to
possess multiple vessels at the same time.

The vessels he had collected in the last four years, without ever being
discovered, were the Saints and other key figures of the House of Night.

There seemed to be some limit to his Ability, at least — otherwise, he

would have taken everyone, not just the most valued champions of the
Great Clan. Awakened warriors and many Masters had been spared, as were
the mundane members of their families. A few leaders of the clan had
avoided becoming his vessels, as well, for one reason or another.

Finally, he had revealed himself and took control of the Stormsea once the
Sword Army became entrenched in Godgrave, leading a pincer attack on his
father's Domain from the south. That was what had caused the recent
bloodshed — Mordret was cleaning house, eliminating those whom he had
failed to possess.

Sunny was both appalled and impressed. He had suspected that Mordret
was facilitating secret negotiations with the House of Night on behalf of Ki
Song. What he had not expected was that Mordret would simply… become
the House of Night.

Only three of the Night Saints, including Naeve, had escaped. A few more
had been eliminated when Mordret openly attacked.

Despite that, at least thirteen of them had fallen into his hands. Which
meant that the forces of Song had the power of more than sixty Saints on
their side now, while Valor only had slightly more than forty.

Worse than that, now that the Sword Domain was being attacked, Anvil
would have to split the forces of his army to prevent his son from
conquering his kingdom. That would leave those who remained in
Godgrave at a dire disadvantage.

But that was not all…

Mordret had not only taken the Saints of the House of Night, he had also
taken all the Citadels that used to belong to the third Great Clan, adding
them to the Domain of the Queen of Worms, thus breaking the balance
vastly enhancing her power.

Among them was the Night Garden, meaning that Ki Song controlled two
Great Citadels now.

More than that, Mordret was free to conquer the Citadels of the Sword
Domain, denying their power to Anvil. Rivergate would probably fall in the
matter of days… from there, the Prince of Nothing could easily reach
Bastion, or assault other Citadels in the heartland of the Dream Realm.

The situation was dire.

However, before Naeve was even done speaking, Morgan cursed and
dashed out of the chamber.

Before too long, the walls of the stronghold shook, and a cacophony of
screams rose above the warcamp.
1863 Repercussions

Naeve had not finished his tale yet when Anvil finally showed a reaction.
Before, he sat motionlessly, looking at the kneeling Saint with a cold and
heavy expression. His steely eyes remained calm — Sunny expected the
king to display some kind of emotion at the mention of his son, but there
was no change.

Now, however, he finally moved. All Anvil did was give Morgan a glance,
but she suddenly cursed and dashed out of the room.

For a few moments, the stone chamber was enveloped by silence. Naeve
looked at the king tensely, not sure what was going on.

Anvil studied him for a bit before saying evenly:

"That is enough. I understand what happened now."

Sunny was leaning on a wall with his arms crossed. He did not turn his head
to look at Cassie, but spoke in his mind:

[There are no mirrors on the Ivory Island, are there?]

Her response came a few moments later.

[There are. However, the entire island is protected against that man with
special enchantments. The royals themselves set them up… Valor has been
preparing to deal with Mordret for a long time, so they have developed
many measures.]

Sunny was somewhat relieved. However, he knew that those measures

could not be universal — since the members of the royal clan had to be
personally involved, inscribing the warding enchantments had to be an
expensive and intricate endeavor.

[Make sure that those Fire Keepers that are in the camp remain on the
island, then. Those of them who had been with Nephis in the jungle should
not try to come back for now, either.]
His original body was already making sure that Aiko did not leave the
Marvelous Mimic.

Sunny knew Mordret too well, so he had a good idea about what would
happen next.

And indeed, before too long, they heard a cacophony of screams.

The king did not give any of them permission to leave, and Sunny did not
want to expose how vast the reach of his shadow sense was. So, none of
them moved.

Only Naeve seemed to flinch.

"Your Majesty, what is…"

However, Anvil silenced him with a heavy gaze.

Finally, there was a hint of emotion in his eyes…

That emotion was cold, smoldering wrath.

"You don't need to be concerned, Saint Naeve. It is just a minor

inconvenience."

Sunny was not sure if the inconvenience was really that minor. He
commended Naeve for being able to sense Mordret's machinations when no
one else had… however, the Nightwalker was too naive to think that his
attempts to assemble allies to resist him would have escaped the Prince of
Nothing.

There was only one explanation for why Naeve had been allowed to
survive.

It was that one of his trusted allies — or a few — were Mordret's vessels.
He had used Naeve and other asylum-seekers to carry him across the Dream
Gate and bring him to the encampment of the Sword Army.
The extent of damage he would deal depended on how invested Mordret
was in wreaking havoc in Godgrave.

Sunny shifted slightly.

'This shouldn't be his main goal.'

And, indeed, the screams grew silent soon.

A minute or two later, the doors opened, and Morgan walked in. Her hands
were wet with blood… and she was carrying a severed head in one of them,
her expression dark.

Naeve paled.

"W—why…"

Morgan spared him a short glance, then looked at her father.

"It was just one Ascended vessel. That man simply felt mischievous, it
seems. The damage was… minimal. The watchers did not fail — it was just
that the screening took too long. Those who remain in the waking world are
already being checked, as well."

She lingered for a few moments, then added stiffly:

"He did have a lot to say, though."

With that, Morgan dropped the severed head on the floor near Naeve. The
Nightwalker gritted his teeth, but did not recoil.

He studied the dead face silently, a hint of pain evident on his own. Then,
he bowed his head.

"I apologize, Your Majesty."

'So they have some kind of way to tell which bodies are taken by Mordret.
Unsurprising.'
Sunny felt a little apprehensive, because he did not.

Valor must have also possessed a method to if not destroy Mordret, then at
least imprison him. The Prince of Nothing was nearly immortal — at the
very least, Sunny knew of no way to extinguish his existence except for
defeating him in a soul duel, like what Nephis had done to Soul Stealer.

But that boon could very easily become a curse. Those who could not die
ran the risk of ending up suffering eternal torment. While beings like
Mordret — and Nephis to a lesser extent — could fear death less than most
people, they also had a good reason to fear being caught by enemies much
more.

Every strength could be exploited to become a weakness.

Sitting on the throne, Anvil sighed and leaned back. He seemed to be

contemplating something.

Sunny, meanwhile, was considering the implications of Mordret's entering

the board. Which were honestly quite shocking... he had expected some
kind of diabolical stunt from the banished prince, but the bastard still
managed to exceed his expectations.

The more Sunny thought, the more somber his expression grew.

The impact of the war in Godgrave was already bad enough. The Sword
Army would be inevitably weakened, making things harder for him,
Nephis, and Cassie. However, it was still a beneficial development overall
— they needed Anvil and Ki Song to grind each other down in a prolonged
conflict, after all. It wouldn't do for the King of Swords to gain an easy
victory early on.

What concerned him much more were the repercussions that Mordret's
actions would have for those who were not participating in the war.

The House of Night was… had been instrumental in guiding naval convoys
across the ocean, for example. Without the Nightwalkers, the connections
between the Quadrants would become much more tenuous. How was the
government going to deliver Sleepers to the Awakened Academy next year?
How would resources be shared between the continents?

More than that, what was the government going to do now that the demise
of the House of Night had demonstrated the kind of fate that awaited those
who wished to remain neutral in the war between the two Domains?

There were more questions like that.

He sighed quietly and looked at Anvil.

Was the King of Swords contemplating the same problems Sunny was?

Somehow, he doubted it.

Eventually, Anvil shifted his gaze and looked at Morgan.

Everyone in the chamber held their breaths, feeling that his next words
could very well change the flow of history.

The King of Swords considered his daughter for a few moments, and then
said evenly:

"Return to Bastion. Stop him at all costs."

Morgan smiled faintly, then bowed.

"How many Saints can I take with me?"

Anvil simply raised an eyebrow.

"He is one man. You alone should be enough."

Morgan's lips trembled slightly. She straightened and looked at her father
with the same faint smile.

"That man has the company of a dozen taken Saints. Am I supposed to stop
him — all of him — alone? That hardly seems fair."
The King of Swords looked away from her and shrugged.

"If you think that it's unfair, go and find Saints of your own."

Sunny was listening to their dialogue with a feeling of incongruity. Why

was Anvil so nonchalant? Why wasn't he sending more forces back to
Bastion with Morgan? Was the progress in Godgrave really that important,
or did he simply not care about losing control of more Citadels to Mordret?

If so, why?

Either the King of Swords had lost his mind, or there was something Sunny
was failing to understand.

Morgan remained silent for a while, then bowed again.

"As you command."

She straightened, and then suddenly pointed at Naeve.

"Oh, look. I found a Saint. Can I take him?"

Anvil waved his head dismissively.

"Do with the remnant Nightwalkers as you wish."

He turned his heavy gaze back to her, studied her face closely, and then
added in a cold tone:

"...Don't lose to that creature again, Morgan."

1864 Sibling Rivarly

After Morgan was dismissed, taking Naeve with her, the king had a few
words to say to the rest of them.

The theater of war had changed dramatically, so there were a lot of

adjustments that had to be made. The King of Swords himself would remain
in Godgrave, and so would all the Saints of the Sword Army — with the
exception of his daughter.

It did not seem like having one less Transcendent would change a lot of
things, but Morgan's loss could not be measured in terms of raw power. She
was the principal strategist of the army and the field commander of its
expedition force — the vacuum her departure left had to be filled by
someone.

Anvil took over the strategy matters himself, and gave Nephis free rein of
the expedition force. Her task was simple, but imperative — to invade the
Breastbone Reach and conquer the Citadel hidden in the Hollow below it.

Sunny's raiding party was dissolved before even leaving the Nameless
Temple. Instead, he was to join the main body of the army and help Nephis
take the Citadel.

After receiving these orders, they were dismissed. Only Jest of Dagonet
stayed behind to counsel his old comrade's son on something none of them
were privy to. Anvil would summon the rest of the Saints and inform them
of the situation after that.

Cassie told Rivalen of Aegis Rose to wait for the king's summons on the
way out.

Leaving the Valor Keep, all three of them — Sunny, Nephis, and Cassie —
felt rattled. The shift caused by Mordret's devastation of the House of Night
was too tectonic to be fathomed swiftly.

Sunny glanced at his two companions, and then said quietly:

"I won't see you soon."

With that, he turned around and walked away. There was a residence
assigned to him in the camp, so that was where he went.

Not long after that, he met Nephis and Cassie on the edge of the Ivory
Island as Master Sunless.

Nephis smiled at him faintly and gestured to the great pagoda.

"Let's talk inside."

The Sword Army would be shaken once the news spread… and so would
the entire world. Nephis had to leave the camp and take command of the
expedition force in a few hours. Sunny would follow her, but Cassie had to
stay back. So, they did not have a lot of time to talk face-to-face.

As they ascended the stairs, Sunny couldn't help but think about Naeve and
the remnants of the House of Night.

Mordret's culling had been chillingly thorough when it came to the

leadership and champions of the now-fallen Great Clan. Only three of its
Saints remained — the rest were either taken as vessels by the Prince of
Nothing or had been killed.

The situation among the Masters — the core of the clan's power — was a
little different. Naeve did not have the exact numbers, but more than two-
thirds of them were either taken or lost their lives. Those who remained
were here in Godgrave now, with a few stragglers still lost somewhere in
the waking world.

The mundane dependents — family members and loyal servants of the clan
— were also in the waking world, temporarily sheltered in the complex
built around the Dream Gate. Mordret had not targeted them consciously,
and although some had become collateral damage in his bloody coup, most
were still alive. Just… displaced, traumatized, and scared.
The envoys of the royal clan would have to make sure that none of them
was a hidden vessel of the banished prince. However, that would have to
wait, because Valor had to deal with a more pressing issue first.

It was the fate of the Awakened warriors of the House of Night, who were
in the most precarious situation.

By now, every Citadel in the Stormsea was under Mordret's control. Saints
and Masters were relatively safe, because there was no timer for when they
would have to return to their anchors. The Awakened, however, would be
transported back to the Dream Realm the moment they fell asleep or lost
consciousness.

When that happened, they would either become Mordret's hostages or his
victims.

There were two ways to avoid that end. The first way was to be brought to a
new Citadel by a Saint and anchor themselves at its Gateway. The second
way was to pass through a Dream Gate and enter the Dream Realm
physically.

The problem was that each of them had to be tested before being allowed in
Valor territory, so that another hidden vessel of the Prince of Nothing did
not infiltrate Godgrave. The process was not fast, so it was not clear if all of
them would be able to stave off sleep before that happened.

Remembering his own attempts to stay awake after returning from the
Forgotten Shore, Sunny did not envy them.

In any case, their fates were in the hands of Morgan now. Anvil had given
her carte blanche to deal with the remnants of the House of Night as she
saw fit — and while the Awakened warriors would have to come to
Godgrave, she would without a doubt try to bring at least the strongest of
the remnants to the newly created southern front.

They had no choice but to obey her. More than that… Sunny was not sure
that they had a reason to refuse. Each of the remaining members of the
House of Night was, without a doubt, full of desire to avenge their fallen
kin. Morgan would offer them a chance to fight against Mordret, and
probably sweeten the deal by promising to take care of the mundane
members of their families.

Why would they say no? They did not have to be coerced.

The strongest chains were often those people put on themselves.

…Sunny would know.

Finally, they reached Neph's living quarters at the highest level of the tower.
Cassie summoned several Memories to prevent anyone from listening in on
their conversation.

That precaution was actually meant to be broken. This close to a living

Sovereign and his strongest servants, they had to be extremely cautious
about sharing vital information. Therefore, they always assumed that the
first layer of protection would be dismantled.

Sunny, Nephis, and Cassie played their roles and spoke about the task
facing the expedition force.

At the same time, they were having another, entirely silent conversation. It
was a bit awkward because Cassie had to relay what Sunny and Nephis
said, but they had grown used to communicating that way in the recent
weeks.

[Why is he only sending Morgan?]

Sunny was still confused by Anvil's decision.

Nephis shook her head subtly.

[Actually, that makes sense. Every Saint she brings will just become a
potential vessel for Mordret… Valor has methods to protect a soul from his
Aspect, but no method is absolute. That Master you told me about, Welthe,
is proof.]

He considered the situation soberly, then took a deep breath.

[Why did he not take all of House of Night? Why was there only one
hidden vessel among those whom Naeve brought to Godgrave? Soul Stealer
had been able to take millions of bodies for himself. But something is
stopping Mordret from doing the same.]

Granted, Soul Stealer had been in a rather bad shape when they saw him.

Sunny contemplated for a while. Eventually, his eyes narrowed.

[There is also the issue of Saints. Mordret is in a unique position — much

like myself — in that he can control many Citadels at once. In my case, the
number is limited by the number of shadows I possess. In his case, it should
be limited by the number of Transcendent bodies he controls. Therefore…]

Cassie shifted to face him and finished his thought:

[...Unless he takes more Saints, he can only control fourteen Citadels. He

can't go on a rampage across the Sword Domain, demolishing Anvil's base
of power, without releasing his hold on the Stormsea. And there are no
Saints left in the Sword Domain.]

Nephis nodded slowly.

[That is why he only sent Morgan. He does not want to give Mordret fuel to
burn his kingdom down… no, rather, it is inconsequential to him how much
the kingdom suffers. As long as the Domain itself is not severely
diminished, Anvil will continue prioritizing Godgrave. At most, what he
wants is to protect Bastion.]

And so, Morgan and Mordret were destined to clash again — this time on
the shores of the Mirror Lake, not in the frigid reaches of Antarctica.

Sunny did not have a lot of hope for Morgan. But then again… laying siege
to a daemon's stronghold was a daunting task, especially if someone like her
was defending it.

His thoughts turned to all the people he had left behind in Bastion.
How were they going to fare in the middle of a clash between the two
Transcendent siblings?

For now, at least, that was out of his control.

Sunny sighed, then looked at his companions.

[So… what does all of this mean for us?]

1865 Into the Fray

They did not have a lot of time to talk, so the discussion was brief.
Afterwards, Cassie left to have a separate conversation with Jet. Sunny and
Nephis were left alone.

Nephis had just returned from the battlefield, and she would have to leave
the camp in an hour or two — this time, not just to lend her power to the
expedition force, but also to become its commander.

Her armor was smeared by soot, and her hair was blackened by ash. Grime
and dried blood stained her alabaster skin… this was a good sign, actually.
It meant that she had not been forced to assume her Transcendent form as of
late, at least — otherwise, her body would have been pure and pristine, all
the dirt burned away by the incandescent flames.

Still, now that they had a moment to breathe, Nephis looked at herself, then
threw a quick glance at Sunny and left to have a bath.

Soon, she returned, her silver hair glistening with moisture. She had
dismissed the outer layer of her armor, and was now wearing only the thin
cloth underlayer, which clung slightly to her damp body.

Sunny studied Nephis carefully.

He could tell that she had called upon the power of her Aspect recently —
and extensively, as well. Her condition was not too bad, but there were
telltale signs. There was a distant look in her eyes and a hint of coldness
written in the graceful lines of her beautiful face. There was an afterglow of
immolating flame and a memory of scorching heat in her brilliant presence.

Nephis had been suffering the torment of her cruel Flaw too much, and too
often.

Sunny sighed. Noticing that she was rubbing her shoulders with a grimace,
he raised his hands and smiled.

"How about a massage?"

A subtle smile illuminated her face, as well. She nodded silently.

He moved to her wide bed, while Nephis sat in front of him, leaning on his
chest. Sunny placed his fingers on her shoulders and got to work, kneading
her tense muscles with masterful ease. From his point of view, he could see
the top of her head, the tip of her nose, and the beads of water glistening on
her delicate clavicle.

Her garment was thin, so he could feel the heat of her body. Her skin was
silky and smooth. He put more strength into his fingers, causing her to let
out a small whimper, and then a satisfied sigh.

He felt her body relax a little.

Nephis remained silent for a while, enjoying the massage, and then asked:

"How come you are so good at this?"

Sunny froze for a moment before continuing to rub her shoulders. He would
have really, really preferred to keep the source of his massage skills a
secret, but sadly, his own Flaw compelled him to answer.

He hesitated for a moment.

"Well… one of my Attributes makes me particularly good at all kinds of

handiwork."

He paused, then added reluctantly:

"Oh, and I have practised on myself a lot while wandering the Dream
Realm."

'Ah. How embarrassing.'

Nephis let out another contented sigh and closed her eyes in pleasure.

"...Perks of having many bodies. Unfair."

Sunny chuckled.
"You're the one who is benefitting from that unfairness in the end, though.
So should you really be complaining?"

Nephis smiled faintly.

"I'm not complaining."

Sunny worked on her shoulders for a while, then switched to her back.
When he finished, Nephis looked much more relaxed. Her overall condition
had improved significantly, as well, and the hint of detached coldness
disappeared from her gaze.

He embraced her from behind and asked gently:

"Hungry?"

She nodded.

His shadow disappeared for a few moments, and then returned holding a
tray of food. It was taken directly from the Marvelous Mimic's kitchen and
smelled delicious — thanks to the Dream Gate, the army did not really
suffer from the lack of supplies, and he received his fair share from the Fire
Keepers.

...He also had his own stash and received a less fair share through the
backdoor connections established by Aiko, but that was nor here nor there.

Sunny let Nephis go and watched her eat with a pleased expression.
Eventually, though, he sighed.

"I really hoped that we would get to spend more time together"

Both of them were in Godgrave, but he remained on the Ivory Island most
of the time. Nephis, meanwhile, was always on the forefront of the moving
battlefield, helping the expedition force carve a path through the monstrous
jungle. There was a rotation system in place to let the legions and their
commanders rest and recuperate, but hers was a special case.
Nephis was too important to the offensive effort, so she only returned to
camp once a week, at best. Now that Morgan was gone, and she was
assuming command of the whole expedition force, those rare days would
become even fewer and far between.

She gave him a confused look.

"But we do get to spend more time together."

What she meant was that, this time, the Lord of Shadows would be
accompanying her to the battlefront. So, the two of them did not have to
separate… technically.

Sunny grimaced.

"That's not the same. "

The Lord of Shadows was still him, but that incarnation of his was stuck
wearing a suit of armor and a mask all the time. The temporary
encampment of the expedition force was also not a place where one could
get privacy, let alone share tender moments such as this one.

Sunny had not exactly expected that they would get many opportunities to
go on dates in Godgrave… but that did nothing to quench his greed. He had
barely got the taste of being with Nephis, and he wanted more.

He wanted to experience all the profound things that lovers experienced,

and all the stupid things too. Sadly, war — especially one as dire and
dreadful as this one — was a terrible background for romantic encounters.

'Damnation. What does a man have to do to take his girlfriend out on a

date?'

The answer, apparently, was to conquer a Death Zone and kill a couple of
Sovereigns.

'...Noted.'
Nephis finished her food and looked at him silently for a while. Eventually,
she said with a hint of a smile in her voice:

"I am still happy that the Lord of Shadows is coming with me, this time."

Sunny couldn't help but raise his chin a little.

He coughed.

"Are you? Oh, that guy… he's not bad, I guess."

Nephis gave him a nonchalant look and lingered for a few moments.

Then, she sighed.

"I wouldn't mind if he was a little bit bad, though."

Sunny gave her an intense stare.

"That can be arranged, as well…"

***

A couple later, Nephis and the Lord of Shadows left the warcamp,
accompanied by the returning Saints.

In those hours, the Sword Army had been shaken by the appalling news.
The treacherous Queen of Worms had eradicated the House of Night and
took control of the Stormsea. Now, her forces were mounting an invasion
from the south, threatening to annex the defenseless rear territories of the
Sword Domain.

Many of the soldiers had families and friends there. They were rattled,
dismayed, and frightened.

Many were scared of what the disastrous attack would mean for them here
in Godgrave. The morale of the army suffered a tremendous blow.
In these circumstances, Nephis had to project an image of absolute
confidence. Which she did, instilling the frightened soldiers with a sense of
renewed determination and hope.

Her brilliant figure was like a symbol of bravery and steadfast will. Anyone
who saw her couldn't help but feel something stir in their souls, and
straighten their backs unconsciously.

And so, her flames spread.

A dark figure that walked by her side attracted much less attention. And yet,
those who saw it felt calmer, as well — albeit for an entirely different
reason.

Changing Star of the Immortal Flame was valiant and noble.

But the Lord of Shadows, that man… he was sinister and ruthless.

And now, he was entering the fray.

1866 Cutting the Red Tape

NQSC was in chaos.

The damage dealt to the city by the bloodshed in the strongholds of the
House of Night was minimal, even though some of the battles had briefly
spilled onto the streets.

However, the blow dealt to the morale of the citizens was severe.

The news of what had truly happened was slow to spread, and this time,
even the government propaganda machine was not sure how to handle the
unprecedented and ominous event. Because of that, wild rumors were
spreading, making already anxious people feel even less secure.

Granted, the actual truth was, in many senses, much worse than the rumors.

The streets of the city were strangely desolate. Those people who did
venture outside walked with hurried steps. The public transport was
enveloped by tense silence… the fires had been put out, but pillars of
smoke were still rising into the sky.

In that subdued atmosphere, a procession of armored PTVs stopped in front

of the government headquarters, and a young woman with strange and vivid
vermilion eyes stepped out of one of them.

Usually, Morgan would have changed into an appropriate attire for an

official visit, but wasting time on appearances was a luxury she did not have
today. So, she was still wearing her battle armor, her red cloak moving
slightly in the wind.

Her hands were encased in intricate gauntlets forged of black steel. The
craftsmanship was stellar, but they were still burdensome when trying to
perform finer tasks. Sadly, there was little she could do about that.

Morgan missed her molded leather gloves.

A small army of guards poured out of the armored PTVs — most of them
were mundane retainers of the clan, so their presence was purely symbolic.
It did look like the government compound was about to be besieged, which
was the intended purpose.

Maintaining a calm and slightly haughty expression, Morgan ascended the

stairs and entered the stronghold. She heard gasps and saw the government
workers in the lobby react to her entrance. Some paled; others were
enthralled by her Transcendent beauty. She did not spare any of them any
attention and walked forward with confident steps.

A man with a bit more poise gave her a deep bow.

"Lady Morgan. Why…"

She looked at him coldly and saw the man take an involuntary step back.

"Take me to the council chamber."

He hesitated.

"But…"

Her gaze grew a little more intense, and all the blood drained from the
man's face.

"T—this way, my lady…"

Her entourage remained in the lobby as she was escorted deep

underground.

There were countless security checkpoints and fortified chokeholds on the

way. No one dared to bar her path or slow her down, though — even if they
wished, they couldn't. There would have been a complicated dance of
diplomatic procedures on any other day, but today, Morgan was not in the
mood.

The decision-makers of the government had mostly likely given their

permission, as well.
Soon, she entered a spacious conference room. The room looked painfully
ordinary, considering its purpose, but that was entirely the point. The
government was aggressively utilitarian in everything it did, as if to
constantly remind its members of their purpose and function.

There were a couple dozen people inside the room, gathered around a
projection table — both mundane and Awakened. The government did not
discriminate between the two, and its leaders were a mix of those who
carried the Nightmare Spell and those who did not. In fact, the current
Chancellor was a mundane man, as was the previous one.

Morgan did not pay him any attention, though. Instead, she focused on five
individuals.

Wake of Ruin, Dream Merchant, Soul Reaper, Nightingale, and Raised by

Wolves. The five government Saints.

The people in the conference room had been in the middle of a heated
discussion just a few moments ago, but when she entered, they all fell
silent, looking at her with expressions that varied from wariness to dismay.

Morgan gave them a pleasant smile, then took a chair, dragged it away from
the table, sat down, and leisurely crossed her legs.

She was on their territory and outnumbered, with intense gazes boring into
her like drills. And yet, it seemed as if the leaders of the government were
the nervous ones — Morgan remained perfectly at ease.

"Ladies and gentlemen. It is good to see you all."

There were a few moments of tense silence, and then the Chancellor gave
Wake of Ruin a brief glance. The old man — just as unpleasant as ever —
looked at her and gritted his teeth.

"...What do you want, Saint Morgan?"

She met his heavy gaze with a chilling one of her own.

"Straight to business, then? It is a pleasure to see you as well, Saint Cor."

He scoffed.

"Have you come to exchange pleasantries? As you can see, we were in the
middle of something."

His expression darkened, betraying a hint of barely suppressed fury.

"Thanks to you and your oh-so-great clan."

He would have been more polite, usually. But today, even someone as
seasoned as Wake of Ruin seemed to be struggling with maintaining a cool
head.

Morgan raised her eyebrows, as if sincerely confused.

"My clan? Surely, you are not blaming the criminal acts of those Song
extremists on my family."

She shook her head in dejection.

"First, they stage an unprovoked attack on my sister… during a Gate crisis,

no less. Then, they massacre the noble members of the illustrious House of
Night and throw the world into chaos. It seems to me that my father and the
esteemed members of my great family are the only ones who are earnestly
trying to stop the villainy of these Song terrorists. And yet, I am not
welcomed warmly here. Instead, I am given a cold shoulder…"

The old man gave her a dark look.

"Spare me the sarcasm, girl. I've been fighting against the Nightmare Spell
from long before you were born. I watched the House of Night be
established, and now, I've seen it fall. Surely, you understand what that
means for the fate of humanity… ah, why do I even bother! Maybe you
don't. All of you seem to have lost your minds."

He shook his head and sighed heavily, suddenly looking even older.

"...Just tell us what you want."

Morgan fluttered her eyelashes a few times, looking around the chamber
with an innocent expression.

Her gaze lingered on Soul Reaper, Raised by Wolves, and Nightingale for a
fraction of a second longer than it did on the rest.

Then, she smiled slightly.

"Well... you see… my father told me to go and find a few Saints…"

1867 Quid Pro Quo

There were a few moments of silence after Morgan's remark. Wake of Ruin
studied her intently, then scoffed.

"You can't be serious…"

The slight smile lingered on Morgan's face for a bit, then disappeared
without a trace. The hint of levity was also gone from her eyes, leaving
behind only cold intensity. Suddenly, the entire chamber felt drowned in a
sense of eerie sharpness, as if every edge and surface here suddenly come to
possess a keen edge.

A few of the mundane members of the government elite paled.

Morgan sighed deeply.

"Why can't I be serious? If anything, it seems to me that you are the one
who is failing to comprehend the reality of your situation, venerable Saint
Cor."

She slowly looked at the faces of the high administrators of the government
and said, her voice devoid of any amusement:

"The House of Night has been consumed by Song. Their Citadels are
conquered, their rulers are dead, and the corpses of their Saints are being
worn like suits by a deranged monster. That is what fate has in store for
those who foolishly hope to cling to a pretence of neutrality in the war
between my house and the Queen of Worms."

She smiled darkly and added in a voice as calm as it was sharp:

"You must have already asked yourself this question… what happens to us
now that Ki Song has shown her willingness to stop at nothing to win this
war? The House of Night had refused to take a side, and in the end, the
choice was made for them. Do you really think that the same won't happen
to you? What makes you confident that you won't be next to be destroyed
by her?"
Wake of Ruin lingered with the answer, as if unsure what to say. His
expression was dark.

Morgan shook her head with contempt.

"Those who can't keep up with the current of time will be drowned by it.
You are already a step behind, and you already don't have a choice. Your
neutrality is a thing of the past — now, it is hypocrisy at best, and
incompetence at worst. The Great Clans might have started the war, but that
doesn't mean that others can escape it. The fate of humanity will be decided
by who claims victory in Godgrave, and that means your fates, too. At the
end of the day, the only thing you can decide is which side to submit to."

The old man glared at her. The corner of his mouth twitched, and he spat
angrily:

"And whose fault is…"

However, a calm voice interrupted him.

Soul Reaper Jet, who had remained silent all that time, finally spoke.

"There's no point in assigning blame, Saint Cor. "

Morgan looked at the chillingly beautiful woman.

Jet was cold and composed, with icy blue eyes and short raven-black hair.
Her reputation was more than a little bit sinister, but it was also formidable.
Above else, she was known for her ruthless competence.

Morgan did not know Soul Reaper well, but they had fought side by side in
the Battle of the Black Skull and later in the Nightmare Desert. She had a
good impression of the government Saint.

Jet was... sensible.

As if to echo her thoughts, the icy woman shifted her gaze to Morgan and
said lazily:
"Your choice of words is a bit jarring, Lady Morgan. You say that we must
submit to someone… I prefer to see it as having to support someone,
though. After all, it is the Sovereigns who find themselves in need of our
strength, not the other way around."

Soul Reaper smiled coldly and asked:

"So, why should we choose to support Valor instead of Song? After all…
the odds seem to be against the Sword Domain, at the moment."

Morgan reciprocated the smile.

'Sensible, indeed.'

It was almost as if Jet had expected this to happen. Maybe she had — it
wasn't hard to guess what Valor's next step would be.

"Because Ki Song is an abominable existence — a hungry beast that should

never have been allowed to be born. You know what her Aspect is, and what
her kingdom might become. She doesn't care whether she rules the living or
the dead… so, do you really trust her to keep humanity alive?"

Soul Reaper Jet stared at her silently for a while, then leaned back and
chuckled.

"What an ironic thing to say to me, of all people. Thank you, Lady Morgan.
I appreciate your sense of humor. Now, can we hear the real reason?"

Morgan smiled.

"It feels nice to be appreciated. Sure. First of all… three of you were in a
Nightmare with the person who is marching on Bastion right now. You
know what he is capable of, and that he is not burdened by matters of
morality, compassion, or human decency. There are millions of people
living in Bastion — I can defend the castle, but I can't protect the city
beyond alone. Saint Athena, you've spent the last four years living there.
Are you really comfortable sitting back and doing nothing while that person
has been set free in the Sword Domain? Are the rest of you?"
Raised by Wolves gave her a dark stare, but said nothing.

The leaders of the government were silent, as well, their expressions weary.

Only Soul Reaper did not seem concerned.

"It is a bit funny to hear a member of Clan Valor lecture us about morality
and compassion, but fine. That is indeed a viable reason, albeit a rather
weak one. What else?"

Morgan shrugged and looked at Saint Thane, the Dream Merchant — the
flamboyant Transcendent of ambiguous inclinations who sat next to the
Chancellor, visibly anxious.

"Well, venerable Saint Thane here helped us hide the departure of the Ivory
Island from Bastion before. Considering that, Clan Song might have already
assumed that the government is allying itself with the Sword Domain…
who's to say that they aren't preparing measures to punish you all for that
perceived sleight as we speak? Since you are already under threat of being
punished for the crime you did not commit, you might as well go ahead and
commit it."

Saint Thane's heavily mascaraed and painted eyes widened.

"That… you, you forced me! You had leverage because of the assassination
incident!"

Morgan shrugged nonchalantly.

"The fact of the matter is that it did happen, and those Song sisters are quite
vindictive."

Sparing the indignant Saint a smile, she looked back to Soul Reaper Jet and
added in a serious tone:

"The most important reason, though… is that I have something that you
desperately need."

Soul Reaper raised an eyebrow.

"Oh?"

Morgan nodded.

She remained silent for a few moments, and the smiled.

"...I have the remnants of the House of Night."

Instantly, there was dead silence in the chamber.

Her expression did not change.

"They are all in my care, including a considerable number of surviving

Ascended. You should have been panicking about that just before I arrived,
more than anything else. Don't you need them the most to guide naval
convoys across the ocean? Without the Nightwalkers, the infrastructure of
the waking world will suffer irreparable damage. And I am the one who
controls them now."

Morgan looked at Soul Reaper, then at the Saint Cor, and finally at the
Chancellor.

"Considering the nature of my enemy, I don't have much use for them.
Sending them to fight that man will only make him stronger. But… I do
need powerful Transcendent warriors to help me defend my father's
Domain."

There was a long stretch of silence. Morgan remained motionless, her body
relaxed. Her expression did not betray any emotion.

Eventually, the Chancellor let out a heavy sigh.

"With how many Awakened have been taken away by the war, the situation
in the waking world is dire as it is. Someone has to defend the population
centers against the opening Gates and lead our troops. So… three. Three of
the government Saints will lend you their support, Lady Morgan. No more."

She studied him for a moment, then nodded with grace and decorum.
"Pleasure doing business with you, Chancellor. Time is of the essence, so
forgive me if I don't linger to attend the formalities. I'll be taking those three
Saints immediately."

The man stared at her darkly for a bit.

"...The pleasure is all mine, Lady Morgan."

Neutrality, indeed, was a myth.

If it had not been before, it was now.

1668 Expedition Force

The encampment of the expedition force was much different from the base
camp of the Sword Army.

It was busy and immense, too, surrounded by a palisade and with countless
Awakened guarding its walls. However, its scale was much smaller, and
there were no permanent buildings — the encampment moved with the
soldiers, who pushed deeper into the lethal expanse of Godgrave every few
days.

There were no Ivory Tower or Dream Gate, either, so nothing obscured the
sight of the cloudy sky. The radiant clouds were always there, above the
soldiers, reminding that that fiery death was only a gust of wind away.

The stretch of the bone plain between the advancing army and its main
camp had been cleared of the predatory jungle. The jungle had been
defeated, subjugated, and burned to ashes.

The fissures leading to the Hollows, the source of the scarlet infestation,
were now surrounded by garrisons of human soldiers. Those soldiers served
as ruthless eradicators, continuously destroying the tendrils with which the
jungle desperately reached toward the surface again and again.

Denied the light and warmth, the starving Hollows were already changing.
The Death Zone would launch a counterattack on the human invaders one
day soon, no doubt — but by that time, the authority of the Sovereigns
would already spread into the depths of the dead god's bones. Therefore, the
dreadful Hollows would be subjugated, as well.

Sunny, Nephis, and the Saints of the Sword Army moved swiftly from one
extermination outpost to another, reaching the expedition force encampment
in a few hours — the same journey would have taken Awakened soldiers
many days, but they possessed much greater speed.

The current location of the camp was close to the edge of the Collarbone
Plain, in the spot where the Eastern First Rib passed below it. So, Sunny
could see a sea of vermilion leaves stretching south far below him,
connected to something that looked like an ascending mountain range in the
distance.

That was the great Breastbone Reach — the goal of the expedition force.

The Sword Army could have followed the collarbone west to where it
eventually connected to the Reach, but crossing to the First Rib and
traversing it would save them several days of grueling combat. So, a
lengthy lift was currently being constructed on the bone slopes, leading all
the way to the jungle below.

The jungle itself was aflame, and a wall of smoke was rising from it into the
radiant clouds.

Godgrave was a sweltering place despite the overcast sky, but here, the air
was even more sultry. Sunny could feel beads of sweat rolling down his
skin under the stonelike carapace of the Onyx Mantle — most of the Saints
had dismissed the outer layers of their armors, wearing light clothes, but
sadly, he could not follow their example.

He could enjoy the view of Nephis out of her latest suit of plate armor,
though, which was a consolation.

Sunny spared a glance to the burning expanse of the First Rib, and then
followed her into the encampment.

The mood here was much more heavy and subdued than in the base camp.
The authority of the King of Swords did not spread this far west, so the
soldiers were on their own. There were tents and temporary buildings, but
many were simply sitting on the ground, covered in soot and with exhausted
gazes. Dents and cracks covered their armor, and many were smeared with
dried blood.

Those with serious wounds would have been tended to by the healers, but
minor scrapes were not worth the waste of essence — at best, they would
receive mundane treatment. The injuries and the fatigue slowly
accumulated, as did the mental trauma of having to battle the dreadful
abominations of the jungle every day.

The lack of nighttime, meanwhile, was wreaking havoc on people's sleep

and perception of time.

Everyone here could not wait for their turn to rotate back to the main camp
of the army, where they could rest and recover in relative safety, away from
the nightmarish, incessant dread of the scarlet infestation.

'It does not seem like they know.'

The news of Mordret's invasion of the Sword Domain had not reached the
expedition force, yet. Once it did, the mood of the soldiers would plummet
ever further.

For now, though, they were glad and relieved to see the Saints return.

Nephis walked across the encampment confidently, responding to the

salutes of the soldiers with an occasional nod.

Soon, they reached the command tent, which was mercifully cooled by a
special Memory. Sky Tide and Saint Roan, as well as a few others, were
waiting there.

Saint Tyris seemed tired, but her stern demeanor remained the same.

The high officers of the expedition force had been informed of the shift in
the command structure of the army and the reason for why Morgan did not
return, already. So, Nephis launched into a strategy discussion without a
delay.

Time waited for no one.

Her voice was even and commanding, and there was no hint of weakness in
her striking grey eyes.

"...In short, we need to accelerate the schedule."

The gathered Saints looked at her with doubt. Eventually, Summer Knight
spoke in a subdued tone:

"We are already pushing the soldiers as hard as they can handle. Lady
Morgan's absence will undoubtedly take a toll on the overall effectiveness
of the army… is it wise to intensify the offensive at this precarious
moment? Should we not slow down for a few days, instead?"

Nephis spared him an emotionless glance.

"It would have been a good decision if the circumstances allowed it.
However, the situation has changed. We do not have the upper hand in this
war anymore, and time is not on our side. Going slow and steady is a luxury
that we cannot afford… so, we must act swiftly. I am determined to conquer
the first Citadel in no more than three weeks."

The faces of the Saints turned somber.

Summer Knight studied Nephis for a few moments, then grimaced and
looked away.

"How do you suggest we keep to that timetable, my lady?"

Nephis looked at the map of Godgrave laying on the table in front of her,
then traced a line across the First Rib and the northern part of the
Breastbone Reach.

"We might have lost the power of my sister, but the Lord of Shadows is
now with us. I can assure you that his strength is quite astounding…
therefore, there will be no more lulls in the battle against the jungle."

She faced the Saints and said evenly:

"We will split the expedition force into three war parties. One will be led by
me, one by Sir Gilead, and the last one by Lord Shadow. The first party will
lead the offensive charge while the other two rest. Every eight hours, a fresh
force will replace the spent one. By advancing in three shifts, we will be
able to maintain a much faster pace. Additionally…"
She moved her finger to a particular spot on the map.

"We will shift the target area of the expedition from the great fissure near
the Third Rib to this minor one close to the Second. The subjugation force
will have to travel further through the Hollows in order to reach the
assumed location of the Citadel, but it will save us a good week of fighting
against the jungle."

There was a wave of whispers among the Saints. They seemed to have
accepted Neph's plan, despite its dire implications. However, another issue
was on their minds.

Eventually, it was Saint Tyris who spoke, not mixing words.

"We trust you and Summer Knight, my lady. Both of you have proven your
competence and valor on countless occasions… however, Lord Shadow is a
stranger to us. More than that, he is a mercenary. Why put him in charge of
the third war party?"

Nephis met Sky Tide's cold gaze calmly.

Her answer was simple:

"Because none of you can defeat him in a fight. Any more questions?"

The Saints looked at each other silently. After a while, they shook their
heads.

Saint Jest of Dagonet gave Sunny a curious gaze.

The old man smiled amicably and asked in a light tone:

"Are you really that great?"

Sunny stared at him from behind Weaver's Mask, then shook his head.

"Who, me? I don't even know how to hold a sword. The pointy end should
be aimed at the enemy, right? Or wait… was it the other way around?"
Saint Jest gave him a long look.

"Goodness gracious. Finally! Someone with a sense of humor…"

1869 War Machine

A few hours later, the great war machine of the Sword Domain was set in
motion. The encampment surged as a myriad of soldiers were called upon
by the foreboding rumble of the war drums. Dozens of legions were
gathered into march formations and ventured outside the stronghold walls,
making the ground shake.

The tents were taken down, the temporary buildings disassembled. Even the
tall palisade itself was being dismantled — the sharpened stakes would be
transported with the army and raised to form it anew at the next campsite.

Awakened warriors were moving in a strangely orderly chaos. Countless

Echoes were on the move, as well — some pulling heavy wagons, some to
accompany their masters into battle. The enormous scale and somber
spectacle of it all were nothing short of daunting.

Feeling the booming sound of the drums reverberate in his bones, Sunny
could not help but let his heart respond to the low, stirring beat. The blood
flowed faster in his veins, growing hotter — and yet, a sudden chill brushed
against his skin.

He had witnessed the start of the subjugation campaign from the Ivory
Island, but he had not observed the expedition force in action until now. It
was a grand, grim, and unforgettable scene.

'...Damnation.'

Sunny was no stranger to war, and had participated in his fair share of
massive military engagements. But even the most large-scale battle in
Antarctica could not compare to the subjugation offensive of the Sword
Army in terms of impact, awe, and sheer scale.

Meanwhile, he was meant to be in charge of a third of this grandiose

combat force. Sunny was one of the most seasoned fighters of humanity and
had rich experience commanding troops, as well. Still, he spared a few
moments to appreciate how bizarre and unsuitable the fact that he had been
entrusted with this duty was.

But then again, a war like this one had never happened before. So, there
wasn't really anyone fit for this responsibility out there — not in the Sword
Army, and not among the enemy champions.

He was no worse than the best of the best.

If there was one glaring flaw Sunny possessed, though, it was that he was
not as well integrated into the expedition force as Nephis and Summer
Knight were. Luckily, he was in charge of the third war party, which meant
that he had sixteen hours to observe the other two in action and familiarize
himself with the warriors he would be leading into battle.

The geography itself presented him with a great view of the expanding
battlefield. Far below, the jungle covering the surface of the First Rib had
already been reduced to ash, and was now spreading anew from the fissures
in the ancient bone. One could see with the naked eye an onslaught of
vermilion growth devouring the white surface of the lowlands.

The scarlet infestation was spreading from several sources, expanding

swiftly in every direction. Here and there, the stains of vibrant red grew
large enough to merge, forming vast stretches of the recovering jungle

Before the jungle could really entrench itself, however, the first war party
descended upon it like a tide.

From a distance, the clash between the human invaders and the native
horrors of Godgrave seemed immense in scale, but slow and tame. Sunny
knew better, however — he had expanded his shadow sense far and wide,
so he could feel how fierce and terrifyingly violent the battle was.

The war party consisted of tens of thousands of Awakened warriors,

hundreds of Masters, and a dozen Saints. They were stretched along a wide
battlefront, advancing steadily to the closest of the fissures.
It was hard to deploy Awakened as a cohesive formation, since every
soldier possessed a unique Aspect — in a combat force of that size, they
were divided into units based on the general characteristics of their
Abilities. Those with physical enhancement powers formed the vanguard,
warriors capable of ranged attacks were grouped together, and so on.

The formation was, by necessity, loose and flexible. There were no solid
shield walls or tight spear-wielding phalanxes, since a rigid structure would
prevent the warriors from fully expressing their Aspects.

Such a manner of deploying troops was optimal, but put a lot of strain on
the middle-rank officers, who had to possess both a keen mind and a deep
understanding of tactics in order to manage their span of the overall
formation with enough finesse.

'...Impressive.'

Fortunately for Sunny, the Sword Army was extremely disciplined and
highly capable. Its core, after all, was composed of the seasoned veterans of
the Valor Crusades — the famed subjugation campaign that had spanned
several decades, bringing many regions of the Dream Realm into human
hands.

The Knights and Squires of Valor, as well as many retainers of the vassal
clans, were more than familiar with this kind of warfare, albeit maybe not
quite on such a scale.

Even though the number of Awakened and Masters had exploded since the
Chain of Nightmares, and the seasoned warriors were a minority now, the
legions were assembled specifically in a way that put veterans in charge of
inexperienced recruits, thus instilling the whole army with the same
competency.

The result spoke for itself. The jungle was being slowly, but inevitably,
pushed back and incinerated.

After observing the battle for a little while, Sunny concluded that he could
become an effective commander of such a force… in theory. Of course, he
would need a few months to truly learn the ropes. Sixteen hours were
woefully insufficient to achieve any kind of acceptable result — so, there
was no point in trying.

Luckily, he did not really need to.

The middle-rank officers were already more than capable enough to manage
the soldiers and keep the formation from falling apart. His role was
different — he had to create the conditions for the war party to face the
dread of the scarlet infestation from the most advantageous position.

Far below, there were flashpoints of fearsome violence ahead of the steadily
advancing formation. These flashpoints were centered around the Saints and
the elite forces supporting them — they were the ones who eliminated the
most dangerous foes, faced the most dire threats, and made sure that the war
party only fought against perils that it could handle.

The bloodiest and most fearsome flashpoint was where Nephis and the Fire
Keepers fought. White flames were rolling like waves, and entire swathes
of the jungle were obliterated, the corpses of the abominations teeming in
the scarlet undergrowth turning to ash.

Nephis moved strategically from one crisis to another, solving them before
the danger could befall the main formation. The pace she set was truly
unforgiving — she had to face and destroy lethal horrors and insidious
hazards without reprieve, one after another.

The dire onslaught of them was both constant and appalling, and even with
her great power, she could barely meet the deadly demands of the
battlefield. That was why she also directed the rest of the Saints
accompanying the war party, sending them to handle those threats that she
herself could not reach in time like a nimble conductor.

As long as Nephis did her part well, there was no need for her to personally
involve herself with the main formation.

Sunny frowned behind the mask.

He could do that, as well. The problem was that the intensity of the battle
was truly chilling… and while Nephis was holding fast for now, she still
had seven hours to go before Summer Knight and the second war party
replaced her tired troops.

And this was only the first day of many. The bloodshed would not pause
until they crossed the First Rib, ascended the Breastbone Reach, and pushed
the jungle far enough south to reach the designated fissure.

By Sunny's calculations, each war party would have to lead the charge at
least a dozen times... or, much more likely, north of twenty. Would the
soldiers endure the hellish marathon? What about the Saints?

There was another issue, as well…

Nephis had the Fire Keepers to support her and assist the other Saints in her
party. A core force of seasoned elites who helped her stay in control of the
battlefield. Sir Gilead had a similar group of elites supporting him, as well
— the most seasoned and skilled veterans among the Knights of Valor
would follow him into battle.

Sunny did not have a force like that, though.

Instead, he had Saint, Fiend, and Serpent…

1870 Career Advancement

Eventually, it was Sunny's turn to enter battle.

By then, the expedition force had already pushed the jungle many
kilometers away from the slopes of the Collarbone Plain. A temporary camp
was established near the system of massive lifts that the army had used to
descend to the lowlands, and the soldiers from the first war party were fast
asleep despite the suffocating heat, their tired bodies covered in sweat.

Flakes of ash were swirling in the air.

By then, Sunny had replaced Weaver's Mask with [Definitely Not Me],
shaping the lesser Memory to resemble the Divine one. After some
hesitation, he also commanded it to change the color of his hair to white.

It was a bit nostalgic. The reason for the sudden masquerade was entirely
pragmatic, though.

After observing Nephis and Gilead lead their parties into battle, he realized
that it was important to not only kill the Nightmare Creatures, but also to be
seen killing them by the soldiers — the very sight of their commander
fighting could instill the warriors with strength, provided that the
commander was a menacing presence on the battlefield.

Both Nephis and Summer Knight were highly visible wherever they went.
Nephis had her white armor, silver hair, and blinding radiance. Sir Gilead
was simply made of light when he assumed his Transcendent form. Sunny,
however, was like a mass of darkness when he fought. Considering his dire
mobility, the soldiers would barely be able to tell where he was.

Therefore, he used the enchantment that [Definitely Not me] had inherited
from Autumn Leaf to change the color of his hair. Hopefully, that was going
to alleviate the problem somewhat.

Sunny had also discussed the upcoming battle with the Saints assigned to
his war party. There were eight of them, all hailing from the vassal clans of
Valor. He had no prior impression of most of them, except for Saint Rivalen
of Aegis Rose — who was either the father of the young Master Tristan,
whom Sunny had beaten in a duel once.

Saint Rivalen, also known as Shield Wall, possessed an Aspect that excelled
in defense and terrain control. Both were useful qualities in a battle such as
this, so Sunny had high hopes for him.

He had almost expected that the proud Legacy Saints would be reluctant to
obey a stranger with no background like as himself, but they accepted his
authority silently. The words spoken by Nephis seemed to have had the
desired effect — all Transcendents were warriors tempered by countless
life-or-death battles, and those who had met death respected strength above
all else.

They were also professionals, and knew the importance of discipline for a
military force. In battle, there was no time to second-guess your orders and
question your superior — to survive, one had to trust their commanders and
hope that those above them knew what they were doing.

Luckily, Sunny was well-versed in all things having to do with slaughter.

The war party set forward long before the agreed-upon time, marched
across the scorching surface of the bone, and assembled into a battle
formation behind the combat line.

Sunny was giving his last instructions to his Saints:

"...I'll remind you one last time. Remember — this is a marathon, not a
sprint. There will be another battle tomorrow, and the day after that, and the
day after that, until we either reach the Second Rib or all die miserable
deaths. In fact, the fighting will become much fiercer once we ascend the
Reach, since the great Hollow inside it is much larger, and populated by
much more harrowing things."

He stared at them from behind his dark mask.

"Don't be a hero. Preserve your bodies. Conserve your essence. Above all
else, safeguard your life… you might think that it is a noble deed, to
sacrifice yourself to save a thousand soldiers, but without your strength, ten
thousand will die the next day. A living coward is more useful to me than a
courageous corpse."

Saint Rivalen gave him a measured look, then sighed and shook his head.

"It's of no use, Lord Shadow. We are of the Sword Domain, which means
that most of us have siblings, spouses, children, and friends out there among
the soldiers. It is a reasonable thing, to sacrifice a few to save many… but if
there is someone you treasure among those few, all reason goes out of the
window. It is not a question of courage or cowardice, really, just selfish
interest."

Sunny stared at him coldly.

"Keep your selfish interests to yourself, then. As a Saint of the Sword

Domain, I expect you to prioritize the needs of the army above your own. If
you fail your duty and jeopardize the mission out of misguided
sentimentality, I might just kill you — as well as your siblings, spouses,
children, and friends — myself."

Saint Rivalen seemed a little indignant. The gallant man ground his teeth
silently, then gave him a stiff nod.

"None of us will jeopardize the mission, Lord Shadow."

Sunny looked away.

"Good. Now, prepare…"

He had to follow his own advice, as well. Not the part about staying alive
and keeping a cool head, but the part about rationing his essence and
treating the battle as a marathon.

Luckily, Serpent was with him, and would be able to replenish plenty of his
essence as they went. However, Sunny still had to be conservative with
what he did, and how intensely he fought.

In practical terms, this meant that he would not be summoning the Shadow
Shell unless he absolutely needed to, and could not rely too much on
Shadow Manifestation. Which was fine… Shadow Manifestation was
mostly useful to deal with large amounts of weaker enemies, and he had an
entire war party to do just that.

Sunny took a deep breath and looked at the furious battle raging ahead.

"Go!"

The Saints rushed forward.

Retreat was always the trickiest maneuver to perform without letting it

descend into a massacre, but the Sword Army was trained well enough to
perform it flawlessly. One Sunny and his Saints entered the fray, a war horn
wailed across the jungle, and the exhausted soldiers of the second war party
slowly disengaged, moving back and passing through the ranks of the third
party like water through a sieve.

But Sunny did not see any of that.

Gaining terrible speed, he sent a pulse of essence into his muscles and
pushed himself off the ground, soaring into an astonishing leap.

He shot over the battle formation of the second war party, the line of Echoes
moving in front of it, and a wide stretch of the scarlet jungle beyond,
landing with a thunderous boom on the crawling carpet of red moss.

Immediately, there was movement all around him, the jungle coming alive
to consume and digest the invader.

Sunny reached into the shadows and pulled a black odachi out of them,
raising it into a high stance.

Suddenly, it struck him that the humbly named "war party" was, in fact,
larger than the entire First Evacuation Army, at least as far as the number of
Awakened warriors went... and much more powerful.
And he was in charge of the whole thing.

'...If that is not a career advancement, then I don't know what is.'

Sunny extended his shadow sense far and wide, then took a step forward.

'Let's do a good job.'

1871 Shadow of Death

Sunny allowed his shadow sense to expand like a tide, enveloping the entire
battlefield. The battle line established by the previous two war parties
stretched across many kilometers, so an avalanche of information instantly
poured into his mind, threatening to overwhelm him.

There were tens of thousands of soldiers, each using a unique Aspect.

Awakened, Masters, and Saints. There were countless abominations, as
well, ranging from lumbering monstrosities to vast swarms of tiny vermin.
There was the jungle itself, too — moving, growing, hungering.

The clash of it all made a myriad of shadows dance in a staggering mayhem

of motion, making Sunny draw a heavy breath.

Luckily, he had long learned how to deal with his Transcendent senses.
Staying in the outskirts of NQSC had been a harsh lesson, but an effective
one — Sunny knew how to cast the net of his perception wide, but only pay
attention to important details.

After all, people were not usually overwhelmed by looking at a busy image.
They simply saw what they needed to see, and filtered out the rest.

A few heartbeats later, he was aware of what was happening across the
entire battlefield. It did put a strain on his mind, but in return, the level of
awareness Sunny now possessed was unmatched — a priceless quality for a
military commander.

The second war party was retreating, the third party was advancing.
Summer Knight and his Saints were disentangling themselves from the
enemy and leading their retinues back. In turn, Sunny and his Transcendent
champions were supposed to cover their retreat.

'Good. Good…'

Sunny smiled behind the mask.

Life had been so complicated lately, but battle… battle was simple. It was
kill or be killed, with nothing between.

The jungle was boiling with abominable life all around him. Even though it
had only recently crawled back to the surface from the Hollows, the scarlet
foliage was already thick, and all kinds of creatures were rushing in his
direction.

His war party had its work cut out for it, but these infantile horrors were not
for him to deal with.

Some distance away, spread out in the jungle, the Saints were already
engaging with the enemy.

Sunny took another step forward, and his shadows suddenly split,
separating into three inky silhouettes.

Then, the inky darkness surged.

A graceful stone knight rose from one shadow, two ruby flames igniting
coldly behind the visor of her helmet.

She raised her round shield and calmly struck its rim twice with the blade of
her black sword.

A towering fiend forged from black silver rose from another, his carapace
littered with blade-like spikes. Each of his claws was like a razor-sharp
dagger, and infernal flames were burning with hungry malice in his
demonic eyes.

Finally, a great serpent slithered from the third shadow, its body like an
endless onyx wall. The serpent twisted its neck, which was like a black
tower, and its enormous head rose above the jungle, observing the sea of
scarlet moss and dense foliage from far above.

A moment later, the three shadows rose from the ground, fusing with Saint,
Fiend, and Serpent.
Immediately, there was a change. Saint's armor shone with dark radiance,
and wisps of dark smoke seem to rise from beneath it. The flames burning
in Fiend's eyes grew more intense, but were painted a darker and more
sinister hue. Serpent, meanwhile, seemed to grow even more solid, the
gemlike surface of his onyx scales seemingly absorbing light.

Sunny gestured with his black odachi.

"Go."

Saint silently moved toward the left side of the battlefront. Serpent slithered
toward the right side like a torrent of darkness. Fiend remained in place,
exhaling two jets of red flame from his nostrils — in the coming battle, he
would be the centerpiece of the entire offense.

Sunny, meanwhile, dissolved into shadows.

He had no particular spot in mind for himself. Instead, being aware of the
entire battlefield and capable of teleportation, he would be moving from
one peril to another and assisting the other Saints.

'Eight hours…'

Eight hours of relentless combat was a little bit too much, even for him. It
would have been fine if that was the end, but the push to the Breastbone
Reach had only just started. The next couple of weeks would be a hellish
trial… one more for his collection of vile ordeals.

'There.'

He sensed it through the shadows — an especially dire presence barreling

through the scarlet undergrowth toward the loose formation of the war
party, not too far away from him.

The abominations of Godgrave were strange creatures. They were born

weak, but became incredibly powerful and ferocious in a matter of days, or
sometimes even hours, by battling and devouring each other.
The most fierce, ruthless, and lucky of them became strong enough to
descend into the Hollows, away from the annihilating radiance of the sky,

and compete with the dreadful abominations dwelling there for a spot in the
nurturing twilight. The Hollows were so dangerous because there was no
natural limit to the lifespan of the Nightmare Creatures there — only their
own savage instincts and hunting abilities.

The jungle on the First Rib had been burned away recently with the help of
Saint Tyris, so most of the abominations facing the expedition force were
still comparatively weak. However, there were exceptional cases even
among them. The most dire danger, though, were the old Nightmare
Creatures that had lost the competition for food and resources in the
Hollows.

Driven by hunger and desperation, they sometimes climbed back to the

surface to satiate their hunger by preying on the weaker abominations.

Their situation might have been desperate, but their power and experience
could not be underestimated. The Awakened soldiers had no hope of
standing in the way of these old monsters, so they had to be eliminated at
all costs.

The creature Sunny had senses was one of these seasoned predators.

Emerging from the shadows, he barred the path of the vile creature. One
look at it, and Sunny's expression turned somber.

'A Great Monster.'

The Great Monster was gaunt and weakened, its body covered in festering
wounds. Its power seemed to be greatly diminished, and honestly, it looked
on the verge of toppling to the ground, dead. The Hollows must not have
been kind to this dreadful creature in recent years — or maybe even
decades.

But a dying beast was often the most dangerous. There was a feverish
gleam in the bloodshot eyes of the abomination, and a hint of predatory
cunning in its demented gaze.

Sunny himself, meanwhile, was not in his best state. His three shadows
were out there accompanying Saint, Fiend, and Serpent, so he was devoid
of any augmentations. All he had was his raw strength as a Transcendent
Terror.

And his skill.

And, of course…

'My will.'

He was the shadow of Death, after all. If he willed something to die, his
determination had to be worth something.

'Then, die.'
1872 Burning Bright

The Great Beast resembled an enormous, emaciated tiger with black fur and
red stripes. No… the red markings on his gaunt body only looked like
stripes. In truth, they were festering wounds that revealed vibrant red flesh
and the sprouts of tall, blood-red grass growing from the rotting meat.

There were motes of crimson light drifting above the grass, made pale by
the radiance of the Cloudveil. Those motes were living beings — tiny
fireflies that fed on the Monster's blood and propagated in his infested flesh.
Sunny felt a wave of revulsion wash over him when he recognized the vile
nature of the beautiful shimmer.

The great tiger must have looked breathtaking once, in the dim twilight of
the Hollows. But now, it had been reduced to this ghastly and hideous state.

At the same time, Sunny felt a pang of regret.

He wanted to learn the creature's name. But, sadly, the Nightmare Spell was
silent — once he killed the enemy, its familiar voice would not whisper into
his ear, revealing a hint of the Great Monster's story.

He had never seriously considered it, but it was really a shame, to kill
enemies without learning anything about them.

At least their shadows remained in his Soul Sea as silent reminders that they
masters had existed once.

He almost called upon Cassie to ask her to take a look at the Great Monster,
but then abandoned that thought. She must have been busy with her own
important tasks — now that Mordret was on the verge of ravaging the
Sword Domain, Clan Valor would lean heavily on their Seneschal and best
diviner.

Even though Cassie could not see the future anymore, her Aspect was still
capable of revealing the secrets of the present and the past to her.
So, he did not want to bother Cassie unless the enemy he had to deal with
was at least a Devil. With those, knowing about their unholy powers in
advance could mean the difference between life and death.

A Great Monster, meanwhile, was nothing more than a dreadfully powerful,

rabid animal. The world might bend to its will, but that will could not be too
sophisticated.

This one in particular was severely weakened, on top of that.

'Fiend…'

Making sure that the Great Monster's bloodshot eyes caught the sight of
him, Sunny raised the odachi and dashed forward. He was weaker and
slower than the abomination — but that did not matter.

Because he could sense the movements of the Monster's shadow, and dive
into its corrupted mind. Using Shadow Dance,

he could somewhat guess where the tiger would strike, and when.

A moment before the giant paw of the mighty tiger shattered his armor and
broke his body, Sunny turned into a shadow and slid under the terrible
claws. A moment later, he assumed his corporeal form again and delivered a
swift strike to the chest of the enormous creature.

His odachi did not deal a lot of damage, but it did cut deep — he had aimed
for one of the open wounds on the body of the abomination, bypassing the
adamantine barrier of its tough hide.

His goal was not to deliver the black tiger a serious wound. Instead, he just
wanted to bring it pain.

And bring it he did.

The Great Monster let out a tortured, demented roar. A split second later,
Sunny was already dashing back — he had gotten too close to the
emaciated creature, and especially to the beautiful motes of red light
drifting in the air around it.
Sunny was wary of the tiger, but he was much more wary of the crimson
fireflies. In fact, he wanted to avoid being near them as if they were a
plague.

He landed on the moss a few dozen meters away from the abomination and
raised his odachi again, attracting its attention. Before, the Great Monster
was looking at him as if Sunny was food… but now, there was pure hatred
in its frenzied gaze.

'Good… come on, come get me…'

The giant tiger lunged forward. This time, instead of advancing to meet it,
Sunny retreated instead.

He fled across the scarlet jungle, evading a barrage of lethal attacks. The
tiger was like a hurricane of bloodred darkness, devastating everything in
its path. The white surface of the ancient bones resisted its dire might and
its sharp claws, but everything else was obliterated — the moss, the vines,
the young trees, and even the weaker Nightmare Creatures.

Only Sunny remained unscathed, leading the Great Monster away from the
war party. On the way, they passed Rivalen of Aegis Rose — the gallant
Saint was engaged in a battle against a Corrupted Tyrant and its newborn
minions, single-handedly holding the entire swarm back. He was not
dealing the Tyrant any damage, but he was also preventing it from reaching
the soldiers.

Noticing the rolling wave of destruction and the terrifying silhouette of the
giant tiger at the heart of it, as well as the white hair of the Lord of Shadows
dancing in the wind, Saint Rivalen froze for a short moment.

His eyes widened a little.

"A… A Great Nightmare Creature… he's fighting it alone?"

Then,

he had no time to be distracted anymore.

However, just then, a cold voice reached him from a distance...

The Lord of Shadows was eerily calm, considering his dire situation.

"Hold tight, Shield Wall! I'll come to assist you in a little while."

Then, the terrible monster and his slippery prey moved out of sight.

Sunny was sweating under the Onyx Mantle. Actually, it was quite
incredible… that armor granted him an unreasonably high resistance to the
elements, and he was a Saint on top of that. Despite that, the suffocating
heat of Godgrave made him sweat more than he had in the last four years.

It was as if the incandescent abyss above and the heat emanated by its
ruthless radiance did not care about the natural course of things.

'Ah… how annoying…'

Sunny dashed back to avoid another furious attack of the black tiger. The
abomination shot past him, landed on the moss, and spun around like a
deadly whirlwind. Its tail whipped in the air, toppling dozens of twisted
trees.

At that moment, however… Sunny slipped.

He seemed to lose balance as his leg slid awkwardly, and at the same time,
blades of scarlet grass crawled up the polished onyx of his greave, rooting
him in place. He tried to free himself, but fruitlessly — it seemed that, for
the moment, he was trapped.

The Great Monster lunged at the helpless prey…

'Just where I wanted you.'

And then, a towering figure of polished black silver exploded from the
jungle, colliding with the creature's side.

Fiend tore into the flesh of the Great Monster with all his four hands, easily
slicing through its adamantine hide with dagger-like, glowing red claws.
The black tiger let out an agonized wail as he was ruthlessly butchered.

Sunny would have had to work harder to achieve the same result, but in
theory, he was capable enough to cut down the Great Monster himself.

However…

Those crimson fireflies were giving him a very, very bad feeling. He was
not only worried about himself, but also about the soldiers that would pass
the carcass as the offensive continued.

Therefore, he had lured the abomination toward Fiend.

Sunny's personal Supreme Devil, meanwhile, opened his terrifying maw.

More infernal glow spilled from it, and then, he breathed out a powerful
stream of sinister red flame. The hellish fire enveloped the convulsing tiger,
vaporizing its blood, incinerating its flesh, turning the sprouts of crimson
grass to ash, and most importantly of all, annihilating the swarm of
beautiful fireflies.

Sunny stopped pretending to be trapped and easily tore his leg free.

Sensing a trickle of shadow fragments enter pour into his soul, he smiled
darkly.

'That's better…'
1863 Shadow Commander

Of course, the battle did not end with the death of the appalling Great
Monster — it was only just beginning. Sunny remained calm and collected
as he extended his senses across the vast battlefield, submerging himself
into its violent immensity, and determined his next prey.

In moments like these, he had to be strategic. Every step had to be

deliberate, every action had to be precisely calculated. He had to be
effective, but above that, he had to be efficient — both in his own actions
and in how he used the people and tools at his disposal. Otherwise, the
battle formation would not be able to contend against the overwhelming
force of the enemy sooner or later.

The authority vested in him was great, but the threat facing the war party
was greater. If he wanted his army to prevail, he had to be surgical in how
he moved around the battlefield and had to command his champions with
both finesse and foresight.

Luckily, Sunny already possessed a decisive advantage when compared to

other generals — his detailed, comprehensive, and instantaneous awareness
of everything that was happening on the battlefield. While not as blatant as
his other powers, his shadow sense was a miraculous ability. It was,
perhaps, the one power that made him seem like a demigod the most.

'...I'm a general now?'

Sunny left the smoldering remains of the Great Monster behind and rushed
to his next appointment. It was to help Shield Wall deal with the Corrupted
Tyrant that the Saint was struggling against — which would take a few
minutes, at most.

After that, the battle turned into a blur.

He moved across the battlefield like a shadow, emerging from the darkness
to clash with the most dangerous foes spawned by the scarlet infestation.
Ghastly beasts, vast swarms of abominable vermin that flowed like a tide,
grotesque plants that sprawled across hundreds of meters, waiting for prey
to walk into their hungry maws or grabbing them with thorny vines… after
a while, Sunny felt his curiosity wane.

He could not even be bothered to remember the endless parade of deadly

horrors he had to destroy, let alone wonder what they were called. All he
wanted was to cut them down as swiftly and safely as possible, then move
on to the next crisis.

As time went on, Sunny was drawn into the cadence of the battle. He
should have grown tired, moving slower and with more caution — but
instead, he had only become more ruthless, deadly, and domineering.

His black odachi was like a harbinger of death and devastation. Wherever
the figure in onyx armor appeared, severed corpses fell to the ground, and
blood flowed like a river, quenching the boundless thirst of the scarlet moss.

He felt as if rust was falling off his joints, tendons, and mind. It had been a
long time since he had an opportunity to temper himself in this kind of
combat — dire, daunting, and relentless. Most importantly of all, he was
fighting alone, devoid of the support of his Shadows and any
augmentation.

Sunny had grown used to relying on his overwhelming strength in the last
few years. His strength was usually enhanced manyfold by the shadows,
Saint and Fiend were always fighting by his side, and more often than not,
he faced his enemies while embraced by the soothing darkness of a Shadow
Shell.

It was such a change of pace, to face death armed with nothing but his
sword, his skill, and his cunning once again. Such a battle was a dire
challenge, but not an unwelcome one… rather, it was strangely nostalgic.
Sunny was almost enjoying himself — or rather, he would have if not for
the fact that there was no space in his mind for any unnecessary emotion or
thought.

His mind was on the verge of overloading, as it was. In this state of extreme
and endless mental strain, everything became sharper, clearer, and more
vivid. The past and the future disappeared, leaving only the present to exist.
People often called it a state of flow — however, Sunny did not agree with
such a definition. The word flow suggested something calm and tranquil,
like smooth water.

But what he felt was harsh and violent, full of a furious desire for
destruction.

Like raging flame.

'Let's burn, then…'

The world around him was burning, anyway.

As the war party advanced forward, the soldiers set the scarlet infestation
aflame. There was no other way to destroy it — no matter how many
Nightmare Creatures the soldiers killed, no matter how many trees and
slithering vines they cut down, the jungle itself was a ghastly predator.
Every blade of grass and tuft of moss was either deadly itself or was
potentially hiding a lethal threat.

Therefore, each legion had at least one centuria composed of Awakened

with a high affinity to fire. Their job was to cleanse the white bone surface
from the scarlet infestation after the worst of the fighting was done.

The war party clashed with the Nightmare Creatures, cut them down,

then set the jungle aflame and advanced once the scarlet taint was reduced
to embers and ash.

The air was suffused with unbearable heat.

Sunny and the Saints, however, were fighting ahead of the battle formation.
Therefore, they often found themselves surrounded by smoke and fire,
fighting the most dreadful abominations amidst the burning jungle. The
world was like a dark, fiery hell… if hell was sprawled on the bones of a
dead god and wanted to consume them.
Despite that, the eight Saints under Sunny's command remained undaunted.
He had to give credit where credit was due — these men and women were
made from sterner stuff. Even though even a Transcendent was not safe in
the dreadful hell of Godgrave, and all of them were struggling to contend
with the dire perils of the scarlet jungle, none flinched in the face of
danger.

Instead, they held fast and tenaciously overcame one nightmarish challenge
after another, showcasing stalwart excellence.

Each was a force to be reckoned with… better yet, each was unique,
possessing powerful Aspects, mighty Transcendent forms, and fearsome
battle arts — especially the minority of them who had become Saints before
the Chain of Nightmares, and had therefore spent much more time coming
into their power.

Sunny was not arrogant enough to tackle every obstacle personally. He

knew that he had to pace himself, but more importantly, he knew to use the
best available tool to solve a problem.

Just like in the case of the Great Monster he had slain at the start of the
battle, the fact that he could defeat an enemy did not mean that he was the
best person to do so. His Aspect was inherently flexible, but depending on
the situation, someone else could very well be a more optimal choice to
deal with it — like Fiend had been in the clash with the Black Tiger.

Sunny was not a lone warrior today. He was a commander.

Therefore, he used the tools at his disposal — the Saints — with calculated
finesse and frugal efficiency. Time, effort, and human lives — those were
the resources he could not waste, and had to make sure that as little of them
as possible was expended.

…Of course, the most effective tools at his disposal were his Shadows.
1874 Lord’s Lieutenants

Sunny did not shy away from using the power of his subordinate Saints, but
there was a limit to how effectively he could handle them. After all, they
were spread across the long frontline — even though he could move with
startling speed, he still had to reach a Saint and explain what he wanted
them to do, which took time.

His Shadows, however, answered his mental command and knew exactly
what he wanted from them without the need to use words. In addition to
that, each of them was also more fearsome than any of the Saints under
Sunny's command.

Therefore, they acted as the three pillars of the entire offensive, moving
ahead of the soldiers to defend them from the more powerful foes.

Unlike Sunny, who moved constantly from one threat to another, his
Shadows mostly remained in rigid positions relative to the battle formation
of the war party, and drew the threats to themselves instead.

Saint defended the left wing of the battle formation. The graceful stone
knight fought with methodical and ruthless precision, but left utter
devastation in her wake. Her black blade was elegant and chillingly lethal,
using the least amount of effort and motion to deliver fatal wounds to the
Nightmare Creatures attacking her in a constant flood.

Her shield, on the other hand, was barbarous and savage. When it was not
blocking an onslaught of devastating blows, it was crushing and mangling
the bodies of abominations like a wrecking ball made of pure darkness. Its
black surface was slick with blood, and its rim had a few dents in it —
however, her shield did not yield, just like Saint did not yield.

Her movements seemed unhurried, but somehow, the tide of abominations

that would have drowned anyone else never seemed to overwhelm her. She
moved through it with indifferent grace, and severed bodies fell to the
ground everywhere she went.
Blood flowed, severed limbs and mutilated corpses littered the smoldering
moss, and frenzied roars shattered pitifully against her cold, indifferent
silence.

Serpent defended the right wing of the battle formation. Its presence was
not the most striking, but it was the most eerie — Sunny's soul companion
rarely stayed in one shape for a long time, switching between them to
respond to the situation in the most fitting way.

Sometimes, a giant onyx snake slithered through the burning jungle,

swallowing weaker abominations or coiling its great body around the
towering monstrosities to suffocate them in its crushing embrace.
Sometimes,

a fleeting human silhouette would appear, moving through the darkness to

face unknown dangers.

Sometimes, the shape of a hideous Nightmare Creature would reveal itself

in the smoke, tearing other abominations apart. There was only one trait that
all of these beings shared — their figures were inky-black and surrounded
by shadows.

Serpent was not as perfectly suited for mayhem and carnage of battle as
Saint and Fiend were, perhaps, but it easily made up for any deficiencies
with endless flexibility.

More importantly than that, Serpent served a vital purpose — with each
enemy it killed, a little bit of Sunny's essence was restored. Therefore,
Serpent's value was not limited to the Nightmare Creatures it defeated. It
contributed to each kill Sunny made, as well.

…And lastly, there was Fiend.

At the moment, Fiend was the most powerful of the Shadows. As a

Supreme Devil, his power was vast and dreadful, and for that reason, he
played the main role in today's battle.
Fiend defended the center of the war party and was the tip of the wedge
formed by Saint, Serpent, and the eight Transcendent champions. His
position was deeper in the jungle than that of everyone else, and therefore,
he drew the most enemies to himself.

And when the enemies found him, he ripped them to shreds in the most
gruesome and frightening fashion.

Towering at five meters in height, with a body made of polished black silver
and infernal flames, he was like a dreadful demon who had crawled from
the depths of hell. The edges of his dagger-like claws were suffused with an
incandescent red glow, cutting flesh and bones like butter. The blood of the
creatures he killed boiled and evaporated before touching the ground.

Fiend was savage and brutal, reveling in bloodshed as he tore his enemies
apart with bare hands — which he had four of — but that did not mean that
there was no sophistication to his seemingly frenzied slaughter. It was, in
fact, a chillingly calculated and shrewd affair merely masquerading as
mindless barbarity.

He not only retained the devious cunning and diabolical intelligence of his
original self, but had also been taught by Saint. It was just that Fiend had no
need for weapons, so the style she had taught him was predominantly
centered around hand-to-hand combat.

When his claws and spikes littering his powerful steel body were not
enough, Fiend unleashed his infernal flames, breathing out long jets of
crimson fire. Countless abominations died in agony,

incinerated by it, or were scorched so badly that slicing them open

presented no problem to the ravenous Shadow.

And even then, he was holding back. Due to the nature of his task, Fiend
had to plant himself in the middle of the burning jungle and lure the
enemies to him, so he was not using Shadow Step at all — with it, he would
have been even more deadly.
There was another trait that made Fiend especially terrifying, though. This
one was utterly invisible, but had an undeniable effect on the flow of the
battle.

It was his will. As a Supreme creature, Fiend's will had an effect on the
world — perhaps not as drastic as that of the Great Nightmare Creatures
due to his young age and personality, but still quite real. More than that,
Sunny strongly suspected that Fiend's [Lucky] Attribute somehow fused
with the influence of his will, which was why even more things went
according to how the bastard wanted them to go.

Perhaps that was the reason why so many of the most powerful foes
emerging from the jungle ended up targeting the ravenous Shadow instead
of going directly for the battle formation.

Of course, Sunny did not know whether that happened because Fiend really
wanted to perform his duty well... or because he simply wanted to eat them.

The battle raged on. The jungle burned, and the war party slowly advanced
forward, pushing the scarlet infestation further and further back.

The harrowing orgy of violence seemed to have no end, boiling and

seething under the cloudy expanse of the radiant sky.
1875 End of Shift

The soldiers of the third party had been anxious before the battle. Of course,
they were — Godgrave was like a feverish nightmare, and most of them
had already witnessed the chilling horrors of the scarlet jungle. Now, with
Princess Morgan gone and the Sword Domain itself in jeopardy, an air of
doubt and uncertainty hung over the army.

However, the main reason for their anxiety was the identity of their
commander.

The Lord of Shadows had a fearsome reputation and looked frightful,

enough to inspire confidence in his martial prowess. He had survived alone
in Godgrave for many years, after all — surely, a man like him was
perfectly suited to be placed in charge of a war party.

But those were just rumors and second-hand knowledge. In truth, none of
the soldiers truly knew him or had seen him fight — except for the Fire
Keepers serving Lady Changing Star, no one had. He was a stranger, and
therefore, it was hard to trust in his ability to lead them into battle.

When the battle did start, however…

The doubts of the soldiers were alleviated in the most striking way.

A sense of silent astonishment came to replace them.

The third war party had a perfect view of the moment when the Lord of
Shadows leaped over the battle formation and dove into the depths of the
jungle without showing any kind of fear or hesitation. An infuriated roar
resounded from the spot where he had landed, and dozens of trees toppled,
hinting that a scene of terrible carnage was happening out there, not too far
ahead.

After that, they only caught glimpses of him.

The figure encased in an intricate suit of onyx armor seemed to be…

everywhere. It was as if he was in several places at the same time. The
soldiers did not know how their commander managed to move across the
vast length of the battlefield with such speed, but he always appeared where
he was needed the most.

His white hair danced in the air, and his black odachi struck true without
fail, bringing down the most dreadful Nightmare Creatures down to the
ground. It was as if he was a messenger of death, reaping the lives of their
enemies with cold and emotionless ruthlessness.

The soldiers were busy fighting their own foes to pay what was happening
ahead much attention, at first. An endless tide of abominations rushed at
them from the scarlet jungle — there were not enough words in the human
language to describe the appalling hideousness of them all, and no time to
discern the horrid details to their appearance.Instead of gawking at the
Nightmare Creatures, the warriors of the Sword Army strained their bodies
and minds to the absolute limit in order to survive.

Clouds of arrows fell into the moving carpet of abominations. Aspect

powers rained from above, tearing hideous bodies apart. Thousands of
Awakened warriors clashed with the enemy in melee, desperately trying to
block the avalanche of claws and fangs with their shields while slaying the
creatures with their enchanted blades.

Masters served as the cornerstones of the battle line, rallying the Awakened
around them. The officers bellowed orders, adjusting the formation and
rotating fresh centuriae to the front. A terrible cacophony of screams,
screeching wails, and roars enveloped the battlefield...

The war machine was churning, grinding humans and Nightmare Creatures
alike to dust.

Once a wave of enemies was eradicated, the jungle was set aflame. Ash
danced in the air, and unbearable heat washed over the sweating soldiers
like a suffocating cloud. Pushing away the corpses of the dead
abominations, they marched forward in pursuit of the flame.

All the while, the grey sky above shone with diffused, but blinding
radiance. The soldiers knew that Saint Tyris of the White Feather clan was
present to protect them from the incandescent white abyss… and yet, it was
still a terrifying feeling, to know that only a brittle veil of clouds stood
between them and certain death.

The soldiers were only able to maintain composure because what they were
witnessing overwhelmed their sense of fear. Fear was a finite emotion, after
all once a certain threshold of terror was reached, it lost all meaning.

Nevertheless…

After a while, the fighters of the war party noticed that something strange
was going on.

Their dire and horrific assault on the scarlet jungle... was going too
smoothly.

They had already experienced fighting against the jungle while traversing
the Collarbone Plain, so they knew what to expect. The battle was terribly
strenuous and ghastly, yes. People were dying, either killed by the frenzied
Nightmare Creatures or by the scarlet infestation itself. And yet, too few of
them were losing their lives.

The reason was simple — it was because nothing they couldn't deal with
reached the battle formation.

There were extremely powerful Nightmare Creatures hiding in the jungle,

even if its current incarnation was only a day or two old. There were
indescribable hazards, as well.

However,the only abominations that attacked the war party were those that
could be dealt with by Awakened and Ascended.

It wasn't long until the soldiers realized why...

It was because of the Lord of Shadows.

Their unfamiliar, cold, and sinister commander was much more competent
than what they had ever expected him to be.
Slowly, the war party came to realize why Lady Nephis had put the Hermit
Saint of Godgrave in charge.

He was like a force of nature... a walking calamity for those who found
themselves on the wrong side of his merciless blade.

As the battle raged on, the soldiers witnessed more of what he did, as well.

Their eyes widened, and their spirits slowly surged.

The Lord of Shadows was swift, decisive, and incredibly lethal. In fact, he
was deadlier than any Saint was supposed to be. His sword knew no mercy,
and did not care about whom it cut down — be it Tyrants, Terrors, or even
the mythical Great Nightmare Creatures, just one of whom could potentially
devastate an entire continent in the waking world.

He did not seem to be using any special powers, either — except for his
uncanny ability to dissolve into the shadows and move across the battlefield
in an instant. All he had was his personal strength, his skill with the sword,
and his devious will.

That alone was enough to bring even the most powerful abominations to
their knees.

If there was one thing that made the Lord of Shadows appear as a demigod,
it was that he seemed nearly omniscient. No enemy could get past him, and
no peril could escape his attention. It was that miraculous ability to perceive
everything, everywhere, all at once that allowed him to defend the battle
formation flawlessly.

Not only was the Lord of Shadows fearsome, but he was also inescapable.
More than that, he possessed keen intelligence and profound foresight that
allowed him to rule the battlefield like a ruthless tyrant, coldly and
methodically eradicating the threats facing the war party.

And then, there were the three dreadful Echoes following his will.

The graceful knight. The steel devil. The serpentine shadow.

Each of them was powerful enough to contend with a Saint... and the most
valiant of Saints, at that.

With them serving as the pillars of the offensive and their master
conducting the battle with his dark blade, the third war party was in high
spirits. The soldiers steeled their hearts and hardened their
resolve,slaughtering the Nightmare Creatures and cleansing the surface of
the ancient bone from the scarlet infestation.

Their exhaustion mounted...

But their commander was still out there, in front of them, fighting in the
burning jungle without showing any sign of fatigue or hesitation.

His fearsome mask remained emotionless. His black blade never lost its
edge. His onyx armor was unbroken, and not a drop of his blood fell into
the scarlet moss.

By the end of the eight hours the war party had been supposed to battle the
jungle, a choir of exhilarated cries rose above the rows of soldiers.
1876 Third Pillar

The eight Saints that had followed the enigmatic Lord of Shadows into
battle were both rattled and elated. The battle was a gruesome ordeal, but
they had expected that much.

What they did not expect was to learn just how powerful their sinister
commander had turned out to be.

The Lord of Shadows was a singular existence because, unlike the rest of
them, he was not a vassal of the King of Swords. He was a mercenary Saint
that Lady Nephis had somehow convinced to pledge his blade to the Sword
Domain's cause — therefore, she knew him best. So, nobody had doubted
her promise that they would not be able to defeat him in a fight.

Nevertheless, it was a startling shock to witness the Transcendent sellsword

in action.

Not only was he immensely powerful and chillingly lethal, he was actually
an existence of the same caliber as the other two field commanders of the
expedition force — Changing Star herself and Summer Knight, the most
renowned paladin of the Great Clan Valor.

The Saints had thought that the expedition force had two pillars, but now,
they knew that there were three.

By the time the shrill wail of the war horn signaled them to retreat, the way
they looked at the Lord of Shadows had changed completely.

…Sunny was a little bit amused by their change of attitude.

'I used to live in this damned place alone, of my own free will. What else
did they expect? That I'm a weakling?'

Hearing the war horn, he let out a tired sigh and prepared to pull back.

He could sense Nephis enter the range of his perception, followed by the
Fire Keepers. Once she and the other Saints of the first war party advanced,
Sunny commanded his Shadows to retreat and followed suit.

Soon, he found himself behind the battle line, surrounded by his eight
Transcendent subordinates.

Now that their shift was over, Sunny suddenly felt the weight of fatigue
crash into him like a mountain. He was tired, dehydrated, and covered in
sweat… it was to the point that he did not know what he wanted to do more,
summon the Endless Spring to quench his thirst, or summon it to wash
himself.

'In hindsight, Antarctica wasn't that bad. At least it wasn't so damn hot
there...'

Dismissing his Shadows to let them mend the scrapes they had received in
the nurturing darkness of his soul, Sunny gazed at the exhausted Saints and
raised an eyebrow behind the mask.

"What are you waiting for? Retreat to camp. We only have sixteen hours to
recover before the second round starts."

Rivalen of Aegis Rose sighed."...You really know how to raise morale, don't
you, Lord Shadow?"

His usually gallant voice sounded a little bitter.

Sunny stared at him coldly.

"Why yes, I do. I doubt you'll like my methods, though."

Shield Wall almost seemed to shiver, then looked away with a cough.

Not paying him any more attention, Sunny headed in the direction of the
distant camp. His armored boots scraped against white bone.

The stretch of the First Rib they were crossing had been enveloped by the
scarlet jungle before his war party cleansed it. There was ash in the air, and
piles of burned abomination corpses were smoldering here and there.
Once the battlefront moved further away, someone would arrive to harvest
soul shards from them — but for now, the carcasses simply carpeted the
ground, helping one realize just how terrible the battle had been.

Sunny sighed.

'It is only the first day.'

Soon, they reached the line of tired soldiers. The warriors were covered in
soot and dead-tired, but their sunken eyes were shining brightly.

For some reason.

The war party was in the process of assembling into a march formation, but
when Sunny and the Saints approached, everyone paused for a few
moments.

He felt thousands of gazes wash over him like a tide, and then, a deafening
cheer rose above the sea of soldiers.

Surrounded by a crowd of cheering soldiers, Sunny felt a cold chill run

down his spine, and a sudden sense of dread grasp his heart with icy claws.

He almost stumbled.

It was because he recognized their chant.

"...Glory! Glory! Glory!"

Sunny's face was hidden behind a mask, so no one could see his expression.
The shadows populating the battlefield moved as he halted and gazed at the
soldiers silently.

He remained motionless for a few long moments, and then continued

walking.

"Move out!"

His voice was colder than the frozen depths of hell.

The cheer exploded in volume briefly and then died out. The tired warriors
followed their general across the corpse-littered battlefield back to camp.

'Ah, how bothersome…'

Sunny did not have much to do once the war party returned to the base of
the dead god's collarbone — mercifully, he did not have to handle the
minutiae of managing an army out of battle. He simply wanted to dismiss
his mask and armor to clean himself and drink some water, but considering
the nature of the Lord of Shadows, that was harder to accomplish than it
should have been.

In the end, he wasted some essence to step away from the camp through the
shadows,refresh himself, and then come back.

His soldiers had eaten and were now asleep — some in the tents, some
simply on the ground. Most had dismissed the outer layers of their armors
because of the heat, so there was a lot of skin in sight. It was a stark contrast
to what he was used to from Antarctica, where everyone had always tried to
put on as many layers of clothing on themselves as possible.

Sunny studied the scene of the camp silently, then shook his head.

'...I hate jungles.'

Since the Lord of Shadows did not have to sleep, he walked to the lifts and
climbed some way up the slope of the collarbone to observe the distant
battle.

To his surprise, there was another figure sitting on the edge of the wooden
platform, doing the same.

It was a strikingly handsome man with a valiant profile and a thoughtful

gaze. His lake-blue eyes were calm, and his glistening hair was moving
slightly in the wind.

Sunny almost failed to recognize Summer Knight out of his lustrous armor,
but that angelic beauty was hard to forget.
"Sir Gilead."

He sat down nearby, looking in the direction where Nephis was currently
reducing the scarlet jungle to ash.

Summer Knight glanced at him, then turned back.

"Lord Shadow."

The valiant Saint remained silent for a moment before saying in a neutral
tone:

"I observed your battle. Your reputation is well-earned."

Sunny smiled crookedly behind the mask.

"You're not so bad yourself."

He paused for a moment, and then added evenly:

"Not as good as me, though."

Sir Gilead chuckled.

He raised a beaten alloy canteen, drank some water, and then looked at
Sunny with a subtle smile.

"We'll know who's better once we cross swords. However… I hope we'll
never find out."

It could have been a sincere wish, a mild joke, or a veiled threat. Summer
Knight took his oaths very seriously, and since he had sworn allegiance to
the King of Swords, his loyalty was beyond reproach. He might have had
some reservations about the selfish mercenary Saint.

These were the kinds of people Sunny would have to fight one day, if things
went wrong.
Glancing at the camp where his subordinate Saints were resting, he
wondered how many of them he might have to kill in the future.

In the end, Sunny let out a sigh.

"I hope so, too."

1877 Secrets of the Past

Sunny glanced at the valiant man, Sir Gilead, from behind his mask.

Honestly, Summer Knight was not that bad. Back in the Nightmare Desert,
he took Morgan away and left the rest of them behind — but before that, he
had given away his most precious Memories to Nephis, hoping to help her
conquer the Third Nightmare.

He had been reluctant to abandon her and her companions, but his duty had
demanded for Morgan to be saved at all costs.

Sunny didn't know what to think of the man.

On one hand, Summer Knight was quite likable — even admirable, in many
ways. He was a benevolent warrior who valued loyalty above all else.

On the other hand, that devotion of his made Sunny feel uneasy. He had a
personal issue with the concept, and more than that… loyalty was usually
seen as a noble virtue, but considering that the subject of Gilead's loyalty
was the King of Swords, was it really?

What did it say about Summer Knight that he had chosen to serve a lord
like that faithfully?

Sunny often found himself wanting to think about Sir Gilead in the same
manner he thought about Harus, the zealous servant of the ruler of the
Bright Castle. However, he never quite managed to draw a parallel between
the two — no matter how many times he tried, they just felt too different
from each other.

So, he was conflicted.

As Sunny was considering the matter, Sir Gilead looked at him once more.

"Can you ask you a question, Lord Shadow?"

Sunny shrugged indifferently.

"You certainly can."

Summer Knight turned his gaze back to the battlefield.

"I heard that you had refused the invitation of Clan Song. However, you did
not refuse Lady Nephis, and came to fight under the banner of the Sword
Domain with her. I must admit that I am curious as to why."

Sunny traced his gaze and saw a white flash illuminate the world far in the
distance. Nephis was unleashing her flames somewhere out there, on the
battlefield.

He grinned behind the mask.

His voice was emotionless when he spoke:

"I thought that if it's Changing Star, she would win."

Sir Gilead smiled and drank more water.

"She does have a habit of making impossible things possible. Just like her
father."

Sunny raised an eyebrow.

"Broken Sword? You knew him?"

Summer Knight chuckled.

"No… I wish I did, though. He died shortly after I became a Sleeper — but,
before that, he was somewhat of an idol of mine."

A sad smile appeared on his face.

"I only grew to admire him more after hearing stories told by those who had
met him.Many of the older retainers of Clan Valor had a good relationship
with Broken Sword and Smile of Heaven — after all, they were comrades
of the patriarch's son. Smile of Heaven in particular, since she and Lord
Anvil practically grew up together."
He sighed.

"It's a shame, what happened to them in the end… but they would be happy,
I think, to see how beautifully their daughter has grown up."

Sunny looked at him with doubt.

Did Gilead not know how Broken Sword died, and that Anvil was one of
his killers? Well… to be fair, even Sunny himself did not know that. He was
only sure that the Sovereigns had engineered Broken Sword's death because
they tried to eliminate Nephis later — without that first clue, finding the
rest was close to impossible.

It wasn't strange that Summer Knight would not know anything about it.
After all, he would have indeed been a teenager when the betrayal
happened, just like Saint Tyris.

There was something else about what he had said, though…

Sunny felt a little curious.

"Practically grew up together?"

Sir Gilear seemed confused by the question for a moment, then nodded.

"Yes. There weren't really great clans back then, but a few families were
certainly more renowned and powerful than the rest. Lord Valor and
Immortal Flame were patriarchs of two such families, so their children were
quite close — since His Majesty and Smile of Heaven were more or less the
same age, they were childhood friends."

He smiled.

"Sir Jest has many stories about the mischief the two of them got up to. Of
course… listening to his stories is not for the faint of heart. Be warned,
Lord Shadow!"

Sunny remained silent for a while.

"I see. Thanks for the warning."

It made sense that Anvil and Smile of Heaven had known each other since
childhood. Their families were two of the most prominent families of that
time, after all. Their parents had been the most distinguished champions of
the First Generation, and would have fought side by side many times. The
future great clans had been a small and tight-knit circle.

Still, Sunny had not considered that fact before. In truth, he rarely thought
about the Sovereigns as real people, if at all. It was strange to imagine that
they had been children once, no matter how reasonable such a conclusion
was.

In light of the strange revelation, what Nephis had suffered as a child

seemed even more vile. Not only had the Sovereigns killed their comrade
and tried to hunt down his descendant, but in the case of Anvil,he had even
conspired to kill his childhood friend's husband and eliminate her daughter.

Of course, Smile of Heaven had been… gone, by then. Still, it seemed like
an extreme shift in attitude.

Just what the hell had happened to them?

It also made sense that Saint Jest would have known the future King of
Swords since childhood — he had been a member of the cohort led by the
founder of Clan Valor, after all.

Therefore, he would have known Broken Sword and Smile of Heaven, as

well.

Maybe he even knew something about how Broken Sword had died, and
how Anvil attained Supremacy.

Sunny's expression turned a little grim behind the mask.

He and Cassie were determined to investigate the Sovereigns to learn their

Flaws. Getting to the bottom of the Immortal Flame clan's fall was not
directly tied to that investigation, but then again, it very well could be.
There were very few people who knew enough to be a useful source of
information for them, and even fewer of those people were within their
reach. Saint Jest was one such person.

However, Sunny doubted that the amicable older gentleman would be

inclined to share what he knew with them.

'How troublesome.'

He suppressed a sigh and looked at Summer Knight.

'Should I try to pull more information out of him?'

No… it was probably not a good idea, at least not now. Even if he did not
really show it, Sir Gilead was already doubting the Lord of Shadows —
which was reasonable. A man who put so much value in loyalty had to have
reservations about a person who seemingly only cared about self-interest.

So, Sunny could not appear too eager to learn the secrets of the King of
Swords. Gilead's convictions might have been naive, but the man himself
was no fool. He was carefully scrutinizing his every word, no doubt,
evaluating how dependable the Lord of Shadows really was.

For now, Sunny's motives for joining the Sword Army were indeed seen as
unclear, and therefore questionable. Not only that, but he had not even
pledged his allegiance to Clan Valor itself — instead, he made a pact with
Changing Star as an individual.

Should Sunny make his motives seem a little more transparent, and a bit
less suspicious?

'Why not?'

He smiled.

"You said that Lady Nephis has grown up beautifully, yes?"

Summer Knight raised an eyebrow, seemingly confused by the sudden

question.
"I did."

Sunny stared at him for a few moments.

"Do you think about Changing Star's beauty often?"

His already cold tone grew even chillier at the end.Gilead blinked a couple
of times.

"...Do you?"

Sunny responded evenly:

"Quite a bit."

Summer Knight stared at him in bewilderment for a few moments, then

looked away and coughed.

"That… huh… I see. I am sorry to disappoint you, Lord Shadow, but Lady
Nephis already has a young gentleman in her heart…"

Sunny grinned behind the mask.

"So what? I hear that he's a pampered fool of a Master. Pleasant to look at,
but nothing much beyond that. A useless person."

Sir Gilead coughed again.

"I'm not… I don't think... ah, look at the time. My war party will have to
enter battle soon. Actually, I was supposed to perform a few inspections …
if you'll excuse me, Lord Shadow."

With that, the valiant Saint rose, gave Sunny a polite bow, and jumped
down from the platform. His movements weren't hurried at all.

Sunny watched him leave with a satisfied smile.

'Well, then… that went well.'

After that, the motives of the Lord of Shadows should seem quite clear.

Albeit perhaps just as questionable as before…

1878 Interim Results

After Summer Knight left, Sunny remained on the platform, observing the
battle that raged in the distance. The battle was entering an especially
fearsome stage due to the fact that the expedition force was nearing one of
the cracks in the surface of the First Rib — it was from there that the scarlet
infestation was spreading, and therefore, the perils facing the soldiers were
more dire in the vicinity of the dark chasm.

Being that close to the Hollows also meant that there would be more old
abominations that had crawled to the surface from the dim twilight below
— which put much more pressure on the Saints leading the war party, and
its commander in particular.

Even from afar, Sunny could tell that Nephis had finally been forced to
assume her Transcendent form. He sighed, knowing that it would take a toll
on her.

'If I made more progress, she would not have had to.'

At the same time, if he had made less progress, then the burdensome task of
besieging the fissure might have become Summer Knight's responsibility. In
any case, there was no point in considering such issues and regretting the
past.

Sunny hesitated for a while, then briefly summoned his runes.

Shadow Fragments: [1876/6000].

Another sigh escaped from his lips.

It was pitiful. He had barely gained two hundred fragments in the last four
or five months… a far cry from the rapid progress he had enjoyed before
Transcendence.

'At this rate, it will take me a decade to become a titan.'

The expedition force only advanced after Saint Tyris broke the Cloudveil to
incinerate the thriving jungle, then closed it once again. That allowed the
soldiers to only face the initial stages of the scarlet infestation and battle
Nightmare Creatures that had not reached maturity yet, which made
advancing forward easier.

It also meant that no matter how dangerous those immature abominations

were, slaying them did not grant Sunny many shadow fragments. The
situation would change once the war entered the next stage, spreading
across the entire surface of Godgrave and delving into the Hollows — but
for now, he couldn't help but feel a bitter sense of disappointment.

He wasn't saturating his cores that much… he wasn't receiving any

Memories or Echoes, either. It was all so unrewarding.

Which was not to say that Sunny was not receiving any benefits from
participating in the war.

His Transcendent battle art was progressing steadily.

He had already established its main principles a long time ago. No,he only
needed to slowly temper himself in countless battles to perfect it and forge
it into his very bones, which he had been doing since the Sword Army
ascended to the collarbone of the dead deity.

That was the opportunity that the war had granted him.

Overall, the process was going well.

His essence technique was already all but flawless. His battle style had been
rebuilt from the ground up to incorporate his unique advantages into its root
principles — the ability to sense shadows and see what was happening
behind his back, the tenacious nature of his blood and bones, the power to
change the weight of his body and limbs at will, Shadow Step, various
forms of Shadow Manifestation…

All of these powers, when incorporated into a combat technique

comprehensively, changed it on a fundamental level. Sunny simply needed
practice and experimentation to iron out the last kinks and truly master the
art he had designed — the relentless battlefield of Godgrave was a perfect
arena to achieve just that.

There was only one element of his Transcendent battle art that he could not
practice freely yet. It was the seamless cooperation between multiple
avatars that he had envisioned after becoming a Saint — after all, Sunny
was hiding that ability of his from everyone except his closest allies.

Well… there was another element, as well. The last element, which had to
do with spirit and will. He simply did not know how to approach it and
elevate his Transcendent battle art to a Supreme one, so there was no
progress on that front.

'I'm still growing stronger.'

Sunny was dissatisfied because of the lack of palpable rewards, but that did
not mean that his growth entered a period of stagnation. If anything, his
power was growing deeper, as he was shoring up his foundation in
preparation for the final, vital leap.

Still, he did not feel like it was enough.

Glancing at the radiant grey sky, Sunny grimaced.

'I need to accelerate the weaving side of the plan.'

He was still working toward creating the soulbound sword for Nephis.

Once that was done, though… he would be able to create a few Memories
for himself.

Sunny did not need a weapon or a suit of armor. If there was one thing he
desperately lacked, thought, it was suitable charms. Both Sunny himself and
Saint possessed the power to enhance the enchantments of a chosen charm,
but sadly, these powers were remaining unused at the moment.

And while Sunny himself did not need an enchanted weapon,the same
could not be said about Saint.
Forging a sword and a shield for his first Shadow was also something he
planned on achieving before the war reached culmination.

He also had to create another [Handy Bracelet] for Rain. The Memory alone
would be useless for her, since Sunny had no idea about what traits his
sister possessed, but if he could get Cassie to read her runes, the missing
information could be filled in…

There was a lot for Master Sunless to do while the Lord of Shadows was
waging war against the scarlet jungle. Even Rain's teacher was busy with
trying to keep her alive now that the seventh legion was braving the surface
of the Collarbone Plain — without the help of someone like Saint Tyris, at
that.

Shaking his head, Sunny rose to his feet and threw a last glance into the
distance.

Even if he did perfect his battle art and succeeded in creating soulbound
Memories… the main obstacle facing him and Nephis still seemed as
impossible to overcome as it had been before.

They had not found any clues about how to attain Supremacy yet.

'Calm down. The war has only started.'

Consoling himself with that thought, Sunny took a step back and dissolved
into the shadows.
1879 Bone Crack

The second war party left the camp, but the first one did not return.

That was because Nephis had conquered the fissure, and for a while, the
expedition force was busier than usual.

While Summer Knight and his soldiers clashed with the sprawling jungle,
the entire encampment was dismantled and moved forward, chasing the
vanguard to the edges of the abyssal chasm.

The great fissure used to look like a jagged wound on the surface of the
sun-bleached bone, its terrifying depths full of impenetrable darkness. That
darkness was gone now, replaced by a boiling mass of black smoke and
brilliant flame. A billowing pillar of smoke was rising into the overcast sky,
falling into the stormy clouds.

The great bridge of vines connecting the Hollows to the surface was on fire,
but it was stubbornly clinging to life. New sprouts of scarlet growth were
shooting out of the smoke, trying to crawl their way onto the surface of the
white bone. There was a chain of sweaty soldiers positioned along the edges
of the fissure, burning the monstrous saplings down before they took hold.

Looking at the vermilion tendrils slithering out of the crack, Sunny couldn't
help but think that they looked like fibers of bloody muscle tissue.

…Perhaps that was what the scarlet jungle truly was — the flesh and
tendons of the colossal skeleton that were desperately trying to regrow and
envelop its bones once again, but were burned away by the merciless sky
before the dead god could rise from its deathbed each time.

Over and over again, for eons…

'What a disturbing thought.'

Sunny arrived near the fissure at the head of the marching column. The
camp of the expedition force was relocating here — both to make building
an extermination outpost around the chasm easier and to lessen the return
time for the troops battling the jungle. The first war party, which had
recently finished its shift, did not have to return at all this time.

He left the soldiers behind and walked to the very edge of the fissure, where
a lonely figure could be seen, looking at the billowing flames. Nephis had
dismissed her Transcendent form and the outer layers of her armor,
enduring the suffocating heat in light clothes. Her fair skin was smeared in
ash and soot, with beads of sweat glistening on it like tiny jewels.

He glanced into the infernal depths of the burning chasm and then turned to
face her.

Sunny remained silent for a moment.

"Did you… melt down your armor again?"

Nephis looked at him with no emotion in her cold, grey eyes.

Eventually, however, a subtle smile twisted her lips.

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

She chuckled, then shook her head.

"No, I was careful. I can't keep requesting new suits of armor from the
enchanters of Clan Valor. They are already quite cross with me, to be
honest…"

In this camp, wearing this mask, Sunny could not make Nephis delicious
food and comfort her, chasing away the emotionless coldness dwelling in
her eyes with the warmth of human touch and connection. However, he
could at least show her that there was someone she could lean on here.

Master Sunless could do the former, but only the Lord of Shadows could do
the latter.

So, wearing the mask was not all bad in the end.

He sighed, then said with a hint of envy in his voice:

"Well, you are fighting Great Nightmare Creatures every day. I am sure you
will receive a durable Memory armor sooner or later."

Nephis looked doubtful.

"Maybe. But haven't you noticed? Now that we are fighting more powerful
abominations, the rate at which the Spell bestows us Memories seems to
have reduced considerably. I am not even talking about Echoes… I'm not
sure I've even seen a Supreme Echo before, except for that silver devil of
yours."

Sunny was surprised.

"Really? I... haven't noticed."

He had killed some Great abominations before being erased from the
tapestry of fate — the Vile Thieving Bird's Spawn, Daeron of the Twilight
Sea... he had received a Memory both times, but then again, Sunny used to
be Fated. Chance and probability had always been in a mess around him,
before.

Nephis nodded.

"I slowly realized it over the past four years, and these days in Godgrave
only confirm that suspicion. Well, it makes sense. It must take more… more
of whatever it is that the Spell uses to create Memories and Echoes to
fashion them out of truly powerful abominations. One Supreme Memory
must be worth ten thousand Awakened ones, so it is being frugal."

There were a million Awakened in the world, but only three Sovereigns. So,
her conclusion made sense.

Sunny still felt bitter about not being able to receive bountiful rewards from
the Spell, but his bitterness had been alleviated a bit.

'Come to think of it, it's good news for us. Otherwise, with more than a
decade to prepare, the Sovereigns would have been drowning in Supreme
Memories and Echoes… maybe even Sacred ones.'
They could still possess those, but at least not a vast arsenal of them.It also
made Sunny much more valuable, since his knowledge of weaving was
deep enough to craft Supreme Memories, provided he had suitable materials
and a few Supreme soul shards.

Looking into the billowing flames, Nephis asked suddenly:

"Do you remember what you felt when you received your first Memory?"

Sunny raised an eyebrow, surprised by the question.

"My first Memory? Well… if I remember correctly, I was full of

indignation. Because it was so useless."

He paused for a moment, then added with a smile:

"But after a while, I came to appreciate it. In fact, I value it more with each
year that passes. It might not be powerful or useful, but it is a… a memento
of the things that I left in the past. Being able to remember is a precious
thing, sometimes."

Sunny glanced at Nephis asked:

"What about you? What did you feel when you received your first
Memory?"

She blinked a couple of times.

"Me? Honestly, I was in no state to feel anything when I received it, since it
happened at the very end of my Nightmare. But later, when I had time to
examine it… I guess I felt humiliated. Because of how glad I was to receive
a boon from the Spell."

Nephis sighed.

"That Memory served me well, though. I wielded it for many years. Across
the Forgotten Shore, the Nightmare Desert, and the Underworld... it never
betrayed me. These days, it is too weak for me to use, but I still cherish it a
lot."
Sunny remembered the Memory Nephis was talking about — the Dream
Blade — very well. After all, that sword had saved his life many times.

It had also tasted his blood, mangled his flesh, and caused him terrible pain
in the Crimson Spire.

Considering Neph's historic accomplishments, that Awakened Memory of

the Sixth Tier had had a spectacular career before retirement.

He chuckled.

"I guess we are both quite sentimental."

Nephis looked at him with a surprised expression. Her sincere confusion

was quite endearing.

"Me? Sentimental?"

Sunny smiled.

"I did not specify which sentiments make us sentimental, though…

bloodlust is also a sentiment, for example…"

Neph's expression changed slightly.

"Wow. The thirst thing that came to your mind has to do with lust?"

He froze, trying to think of an answer.

'...That damned Flaw!'

Far away, in the main camp of the Sword Army, Master Sunless stopped
what he was doing as well and stared into the distance with a contemplative
look.

His eyes narrowed, as if he was considering something.

After a while, he mumbled quietly:

"Dream Blade, huh?That is… promising, I think…"
1880 Hell March

The expedition force continued to push into the depths of Godgrave.

The First Rib had a bending shape, so for the first week, they were facing a
literal uphill battle. Sometimes, the treacherous slope under their feet was
so steep that the fallen soldiers rolled down the bloody ground, crashing
into the second row of the battle formation. The unforgiving pace of the
offensive was only made more cruel by the difficult terrain and the battering
heat.

With each passing day, the scarlet infestation was growing. The jungle was
turning more nightmarish, and the abominations populating it were
becoming more powerful. However, the soldiers were also growing stronger
— those of them who had yet to saturate their cores were absorbing the
scavenged soul shards, and many were receiving powerful Memories during
the long days of slaughter.

All were gaining valuable experience and growing more used to the
dreadful peril of Godgrave.

The main reason why the progress of the expedition force was so swift,
though, and why the casualties among the soldiers were not nearly as
terrible as they could have been, were the three leaders of the expedition —
Changing Star, Summer Knight, and the Lord of Shadows.

Changing Star was like a ruinous herald of annihilation. The battlefield

transformed into a radiant, fiery hell when she entered it. Her cleansing
flame, her incandescent sword, and her brilliant resolve were both a solace
and an inspiration to the warriors of the Sword Army.

Those who saw her fight found strength that they had not known they
possessed and raised their swords to follow her without hesitation. More
than that, the Memories of those who fought by her side would be imbued
with a newfound power, and all but the most fatal wounds her followers
received were quickly healed by her soothing flame.
The first war party was the fiercest, and pushed the jungle back the furthest.

Summer Knight was no less radiant. Woven from light, he was like a
beacon that dispelled the darkness of the abominable jungle. Seemingly
knowing no fear or hesitation, he barred the path of the most harrowing
Nightmare Creatures and cut them down both nobly and valiantly, showing
the soldiers what a true knight was meant to be with his own example.

His personal power might not have been as devastating as that of Lady
Nephis, but his valor and martial prowess were beyond reproach. He was
the most seasoned commander among the three,and led his fellow Saints
with the greatest measure of understanding of how to use their powers .
Even though there were more Transcendents in his war party than in the
other two, their coordination was just as seamless, if not more so.

The second war party was the most steady and stable, moving forward at a
measured pace.

And lastly, there was the Lord of Shadows.

The mysterious Saint of Godgrave was like a dark revelation for the
soldiers of the Sword Army. No one had expected him to be this deadly, this
ruthless, and this insidious as he rampaged on the battlefield, shifting from
shadow to shadow and slaughtering the Nightmare Creatures of the scarlet
jungle. His silent ferocity was both chilling and astounding, making his
soldiers feel a sense of wary awe.

He did not seem to possess a great affinity for combat, as far as his Aspect
went, but seemed like a personification of death despite that — simply due
to his lethal skill, devious intelligence, and merciless killing intent. With his
three powerful Echoes and unfathomable awareness of every peril facing
the battle formation, the sinister Saint was in no way inferior to the most
renowned champions of the Sword Domain.

The third war party was not the fastest, but it suffered the fewest casualties
during the gruesome march.
The expedition force slowly conquered the Eastern First Rib, moving from
one fissure to another and cutting off the sources of the scarlet infestation
one by one.

By the time the great elevation of the Breastbone Reach drew near, a small
team of the strongest Saints split off from the main force to escort Sky Tide
of the White Feather clan to its slopes.

The Cloudveil parted, revealing the boundless white abyss beyond. Torrents
of blinding light poured down, and the soldiers of the expedition force
witnessed the unforgettable spectacle of the vast expanse of the Reach
being devoured by flames in terrified silence.

They were far enough away from the breach in the clouds to be safe from
the white abyss, but not far enough to be spared the fear of watching half of
the world burn.

After that, the progress of the expedition force slowed down considerably,
and grew much more perilous.

That was because Saint Tyris had finally exhausted her essence after
protecting the soldiers for more than a week. Without the aegis of her
power, nothing could save them from the merciless heavens anymore.

They suffered the first breach three days later,while scaling the slopes of the
dead god's breastbone. It was a short one, only lasting a few hours, but
many soldiers still lost their lives and became ash, their bodies scattered by
the wind.

If there was one small consolation, it was that the abominable jungle and
the vile creatures populating it burned with them.

The Cloudveil broke one more time before Saint Tyris regained her powers,
to the same result.

The expedition force pushed south, slowly carving a path across the vast
expanse of the enormous breastbone.
The soldiers were tired. The sixteen hours of rest they received between
having to go to battle were nowhere near enough for them to regain their
vitality. The battles themselves were long and harrowing, reaping too many
lives each time. The tide of Nightmare Creatures seemed endless, and the
suffocating heat was hard to endure.

Worst of all, the geography of the Breastbone Reach prevented them from
permanently cleansing its surface from the scarlet infestation — at least
now that they were pursuing a different objective. Even if an extermination
outpost was established around a fissure, the jungle would sooner or later
spread to it from another direction.

Therefore, the expedition force moved south without leaving itself a path of
retreat. A few days after they moved on, the infestation reclaimed the
cleansed portions of the bone plain, enclosing the human army from all
sides.

It would only be banished from these lands permanently if the Citadel in the
Hollows was conquered, and the authority of the King of Swords spread to
the Breastbone Reach.

Advancing forward was getting harder with each day…

And yet, after three weeks of the nightmarish marathon, the battered army
finally reached its target.

In front of them, an enormous crack split the white surface of the ancient
bone, and in the darkness below, unknown horrors awaited.

From here, the best warriors of the expedition force would attempt to brave
the Hollows to reach and conquer the Citadel that lay in the dark depths.
1881 Leaving the Camp

For the last few days of the dreadful march across the bones of the dead
deity, Godgrave had been different from before. That was because the
stormy clouds that always obscured the sky, suffused with blinding
radiance, had finally given birth to an actual storm.

Strong winds assaulted the bone plain, and a torrential downpour fell like a
flood. The scarlet jungle had turned marron in the desaturated twilight,
pressed down by the heavy rain.

The dark chasm of the great fissure was drinking the torrents of water like a
hungry maw. Standing at its edge, fourteen Saints were looking down with
somber expressions.

The expedition force had just claimed the area around the vast crack that
split the plain. The soldiers were busy building a fortified encampment —
this time, they would be remaining in one place for some time, besieged
from all sides by the hungry jungle, so it had to resemble a fortress.

All Awakened warriors and Masters were remaining on the surface. So were
Summer Knight and about half of the Transcendent champions that had
participated in the expedition — their task was to defend the camp and
make sure that the soldiers survived.

The fourteen Saints facing the fissure were those who would be venturing
into the Hollows to conquer the Citadel.

Nephis and Sunny were among them. So were Saint Jest of Dagonet,
Rivalen of Aegis Rose… and Roan of White Feather, as well. The rest were
all exalted warriors that Sunny had come to know over the past few weeks.

Not too long ago, this many Transcendent champions would have been seen
as a dire force capable of rivaling a Great Clan. Here in Godgrave, however,
they were grim and uneasy, looking into the dark fissure with wary eyes.

Saint Jest suddenly let out a soft chuckle.

"I just know there's a good joke somewhere here. Let's see… there's a deep,
dark crack in front of us, and we're supposed to enter it… entering, crack…
damn, what can it be? It's on the tip of my tongue!"

The rest of the Saints stared at him with silent reproach. Eventually, a
beautiful woman with auburn hair, the matriarch of one of Valor's vassal
clans, said evenly:

"Please abstain from trying to joke, Sir Jest."

The older man glanced at her dully, then looked away with a dejected
mumble.

"Really, now… you were much more fun as a little girl…"

The beautiful Saint did not respond, but her glare intensified.

After that, Rivalen of Aegis Rose broke the silence by addressing Sunny in
his usual gallant manner:

"Lord Shadow,you know the Hollows better than any of us. What should we
expect?"

The obnoxiously dashing man had not changed at all since the first day of
the expedition. The rest of them looked ragged and worn-down, covered in
sweat and soot — but he was clean and freshly shaven, with not a scratch
on his resplendent golden armor. Even though his hair was messy and wet
because of the rain, it somehow managed to look purposefully styled that
way.

The relationship between him and Sunny had somewhat changed, though.
Saint Rivalen was much more friendly and respectful toward the Lord of
Shadows now, while Sunny couldn't really dislike the pompous Legacy
anymore… for a very silly reason.

It was Rivalen's Transcendent form. When Sunny first saw it, he was a bit
mesmerized. Shield Wall transformed into a towering beast with four stubby
legs and hide so tough that it looked as if he was covered with plates of
heavy armor. A single massive horn protruded from the beast's nose, longer
than a ship's ram…

It was the legendary rhino!

As it turned out, Sunny had a soft spot for rhinos — for obvious reasons. He
had never expected to see one in the flesh, but now that he did, disliking
Saint Rivalen was harder than before.

He stared at the dashing man coldly.

The sight of his mask was quite unnerving, so Shield Wall's gallant smile
grew a little forced.

Sunny sighed.

"...Imagine the surface of Godgrave, but ten times worse. The jungle never
burns away, so it is much thicker. The Nightmare Creatures are older and
more powerful. Fourteen of us are strong enough to handle Great
abominations, but down there in the Hollows, there are Cursed beings as
well. Those, we cannot provoke. So, you will follow me quietly, and I will
make sure that we don't wander into their hunting grounds."

Saint Rivalen nodded grimly.

At that moment, Roan took a step closer to the edge of the fissure, then
turned and looked at Nephis with a smile.

"Then, Lady Nephis… shall we?"

With that, two powerful wings appeared behind him.

As the two Saints in the team who were capable of flight, Roan and Nephis
were supposed to descend into the Hollows first — along with Sunny, who
could turn into a crow.

Roan's Transformation had surprised Sunny, as well. He had always

assumed that the easygoing man would turn into a noble griffin, but in
hindsight, there was no reason to think that.
The griffin Echo Roan used to ride on the Chained Isles, as it turned out,
was a gift from his wife — it was not an ordinary Echo,either, but rather her
Aspect Legacy. By now, the noble beast had reached Transcendence, and
served as a protector of their daughter, Awakened Telle.

Saint Roan himself, meanwhile, could turn into a mighty winged lion. The
giant creature was just as handsome as his human form was, with gorgeous
white fur and enormous amber eyes.

And since Sunny had designed the [Belated Apology] with the purpose of
being able to accommodate a Saint's Transformation, the giant lion's body
was usually encased in intricate armor.

Saint Tyris and Roan must have been quite a sight, soaring high in the sky
together…

Nephis summoned her own wings and nodded.

"Let's go."

With that, she jumped over the edge and plunged into the darkness.

Sunny and Roan followed, and soon, they saw the Great Hollows sprawling
beneath them.
1882 Entering the Hollows

The Hollows had undergone a striking transformation, looking very

different from how they usually did.

There was still a vast and hollow expanse hidden inside the breastbone of
the dead deity, drowning in darkness and overgrown with vermilion jungle.
Monstrous trees and ferns towered like towers, the thick canopy of scarlet
leaves fusing into a tumultuous red sea. Great pillars of light were falling
from the immense dome of white bone here and there, plunging some areas
of the jungle into a dim twilight.

However, there was a rainstorm raging on the surface today. So, the light
was not the only thing pouring through the cracks in the bone — grandiose
waterfalls flowed down into the jungle, as well, plunging into the vermilion
canopy as they connected the floor of the Hollow to its dome akin to
foaming pillars.

The jungle seemed to have come alive, quenching its boundless thirst.
However, there was more water than it could swallow — vast lakes and
deep, raging rivers had formed throughout Hollows, turning them into a
world of powerful currents.

Some of the furious rivers were wider and more abundant than most rivers
in the Sword Domain.

In fact, when the Hollows were flooded, a network of them connected the
interior of the titanic skeleton like a great waterway — if one dared to sail
the currents, they could slip through the cracks in the walls of the
breastbone, be carried by water down one of the ribs, and dive into the
colossal sea that collected in the endless spine of the dead god.

Luckily, that was not Sunny's goal today. He preferred to stay away from
water on usual days, and he definitely did not want to have anything to do
with the dark subterranean ocean resting in the gargantuan skeleton's spine.
Roan and Nephis were the first to reach ground. They landed on the shore
of the deep lake that had formed below the fissure and dismissed their
wings, preparing for battle. Sunny joined them a few moments later —
assuming his human form, he commanded Serpent into the shape of an
odachi and unleashed his shadow sense, scanning the chaotic world around
him.

There were Nightmare Creatures nearby, hiding in the jungle. Some were
drinking water, some were ravaging each other, some were brutally
devouring struggling prey.

There were Nightmare Creatures in the water, as well. A few of them were
already moving toward the surface, attracted by the smell of human souls.

He pointed to the lake.

"Get ready."

The three of them had already dealt with a score of reptilian horrors by the
time the rest of the Saints arrived from above, using Memories to slow
down their descent.

The strike force regrouped on the shore of the lake and prepared to move
forward. Looking around, Saint Jest let out a heavy sigh.

"...And I thought that the humidity above was terrible. No, wait!"

His expression suddenly turned tense.

The rest of them looked at him with alarm.

"What is it, Sir Jest?"

The old man remained silent for a few moments, then said hesitantly:

"Entering, crack, humidity… bone… there had to be a joke here

somewhere, right? Right?"

The same woman who had rebuked him earlier glowered.

"Sir Jest!"

The old man grinned.

"I bet Lord Shadow knows what I mean."

Sunny felt happy that his face was hidden behind a mask.

He was starting to understand how the old man had received his peculiar
True Name.

'...I think I miss Effie.'

Suppressing the desire to shake his head, he turned south and took in the
movements of the shadows in the surrounding jungle.

Initially, the expedition force had been meant to push all the way to the
Third Rib, and enter the Hollows very close to the supposed location of the
Citadel. However, Nephis had changed the plan to save time — now, they
were much further north, near the Second Rib, which meant that the Saints
had to cover a lot of distance to reach their goal.

It was not going to be easy.

Sunny was quite confident in the power of the Transcendent Team. He and
Nephis alone were enough to deal with the Great abominations that dwelled
in the Hollows, as long as they proceeded carefully. With a dozen Saints
accompanying them, reaching the Citadel should not pose a problem.

The Cursed Nightmare Creatures, however, were entirely different.

Luckily, most of them were easy to avoid. With how far his shadow sense
reached, Sunny could usually discover where the true horrors of Godgrave
dwelled — mostly because Cursed abominations were so powerful that
their mere existence exerted pressure on the world.

However, there was always an exception to the rule. More than that, he was
worried that these dreadful beings would abandon their usual hunting
grounds, lured by the presence of so many powerful human souls.
So, there was a choice to be made.

The strike team could move toward their goal with utmost speed by
assuming their Transcendent forms, or they could take it slow and proceed
forward as humans, spending several days to brave the jungle.Both options
presented their own risks, and the final decision was entrusted to him, since
he was supposed to be the guide.

Sunny hesitated.

He was tempted to go with the fastest approach because staying in the

Hollows a minute longer than necessary was a gamble.

However… after three weeks of the never-ending battle, even the Saints
were exhausted. Worse than that, they were all running low on essence, and
not everyone was like him, who could sustain his Transcendent form
indefinitely — or at least most of it, since keeping all of his incarnations
manifested still consumed his essence.

Most Saints burned a considerable amount of it to maintain a

Transformation, though. They weren't so drained that reaching the Citadel
was impossible, but if they did go as fast as possible, everyone would be
nearly spent by the time they reached it.

And Sunny had a feeling that slaying the guardian of the Gateway would
demand more than a little effort, even from a team as powerful as this one.

So, going slowly and spending a few days restoring their reserves seemed
like a more prudent decision.

'...Let's go with this plan, then.'

In any case, their advance could only be called slow when compared to the
speed of their Transcendent forms. It was not like Saints actually lacked
speed as humans.

Beckoning for the team to follow, Sunny chose a path and broke into a
moderate sprint.
Soon, the lake on the shore disappeared behind the scarlet foliage, and the
jungle enveloped them like a hungry veil.
1883 In His Element

It took them four days to reach the designated area, which was a bit longer
than Sunny had expected. His estimations had not accounted for the
torrential flood that drowned the Hollows, turning the vast subterranean
jungle into a darkly beautiful land of abundant rivers, deep lakes, and
overgrown vermilion islands. Great pillars of pale light poured from above
here and there, illuminating the wet foliage and the glistening surface of
flowing water.

The flooding had caused the entire ecosystem of the Hollows to come alive.
Many weaker Nightmare Creatures were forced to flee their dens and lairs
because of the flooding, migrating to elevated ground in search of safety —
there were fearsome predators lurking in the water, having waited a long
time for the chance to hunt and gorge themselves once again.

However, the migrating abominations were easy prey for the stronger
horrors who ruled the highlands, and many ended up devoured anyway. The
Hollows were always a cruel place, but for these last few days, they had
become a scene of unimaginable carnage. Rivers of blood were being
spilled under the shroud of scarlet leaves, and terrible wails resounded from
the. darkness without end.

The fourteen Saints made their way south. Sunny guided them through the
jungle with utmost caution, but it was impossible to stay safe in this Vibrant
hell. Every now and then, they had to wet their blades with blood — the
abominations that attacked them were powerful, fierce, numerous... and,
worst of all, devilishly cunning.

They were all old predators who had survived the unforgiving cruelty of the
world above, and then spent countless years fighting for the right to exist in
the twilight below.

Still... the carriers of the Nightmare Spell were much more terrifying beasts.
None of the fourteen Saints was weak, and together, they were a force that
even the dreadful dwellers of the Hollows had to be wary of. The conquest
force killed countless Corrupted Nightmare Creatures and more than a few
Great Ones, as well, moving south with constant speed.

As long as they did not encounter a Cursed abomination, the Saints were
more than capable of contending with the perils of the ancient jungle.

It was not all bad, either.

Although the journey was full of peril and danger, the Transcendent
champions were slowly restoring their reserves of essence. That was
especially true for Sunny — the surface of Godgrave was eternally bathed
in bright sunlight, but here in the Hollows, deep darkness reigned.
Surrounded by shadows, he was in his source element, and could therefore
absorb spirit essence from the air. They did not sleep for the first three days,
but then cleared a small ruin and camped there to rest and prepare
themselves for the assault on the Citadel.

By then, the storm had passed, and the great waterfalls flowing into the
Hollows from the surface had run dry. The air was humid and hazy,
permeated by sweltering heat. The resting Saints had dismissed the outer
layers of their armor, making Sunny feel quite a bit of envy.

He was regretful at the fact that Serpent wasn't a titan yet — otherwise, he
could have given it a command to assume the form of the Winter Beast, and
solved the heat problem once and for all.

At least Sunny was mature enough now not to get flustered at the sight of so
many gorgeous people wearing the minimum amount of clothing needed to
preserve the dignity of their flawless bodies.

...Or rather, there was only one body he was interested in here.

To his mild surprise, the mood among the Saints was not tense at all.
Instead, most were at ease, joking and laughing quietly as they shared food
and water. A dire battle awaited them tomorrow, but these were the best
warriors of the Sword Domain — they had braved harrowing Nightmares
and the perils of the Dream Realm to attain Transcendence, so facing death
was nothing new to them.
Sir Jest was in the middle of telling a story, gesturing with his cane to
illustrate the most important points:

"When I contracted the Nightmare Spell, my mother thought that I was

simply being lazy and didn't want to go to school — going to school was a
big privilege back then, so needless to say, she was angry! That was how l
ended up with a sore butt just before the First Nightmare. My mom might
not have been an Awakened, but she really knew how to give a good
beating..."

He chuckled with a wistful expression.

"Well, anyway, when I returned from the Nightmare and told people about
battling demons in a magical world and possessing supernatural powers,
they were very impressed. So impressed, in fact, that they sent me to a
mental asylum... that's where I was when the Nightmare Creatures went on
a rampage across the world. Mind you, kids, nobody even knew what
Nightmare Creatures were back, let alone how to kill one. In fact, we
weren't calling them Nightmare Creatures yet — instead, people still called
them "the infected" out of habit..." The beautiful Saint who had been the
least tolerant of the old man's jokes — Saint IIelie — was looking at him
with a hint of admiration.

"Uncle Jest... wait. But shouldn't the Nightmare Creatures have appeared
before the first Sleepers? How come nobody believed you?"

Her question was innocent enough, but it prompted Sir Rivalen to ask
another. "And there should have been millions of people inexplicably
falling asleep back then. Why would your mother think that you were
simply being lazy?"

Roan added with a smile:

"Didn't they send you to a mental asylum long before you became a
Sleeper, though? That is what you told the last time..."

Saint Jest looked at them in outrage.

"What do you even know, brats?! Stop ruining my story!"

Sunny smiled behind the mask.

He would have loved to stay and listen to the stories about the First
Generation — no matter how unreliable the narrator was — but he had to
concentrate on scouting the path to the Citadel.

So, he left the Saints to rest and wandered outside, sending two of his
shadows south.

Unlike the other members of the conquest force, he was tense.

Both because the creature guarding the Citadel was truly terrifying, and
because of another reason.

'I've made a mistake.‘ Back when Mordret invaded the Sword Domain,
Sunny had been too hasty. He answered Cassie's call and arrived at the main
camp of the Sword Army not knowing that his orders would change —
instead of raiding Song's supply lines, he was here in the Hollows,
preparing to help Anvil expand his Domain.

The problem was that the Lord of Shadows was here in all his glory — all
four shadows that comprised this persona of his were here present.

Which meant that there was none left in the Nameless 'I‘emple.

Seishan and Death Singer were currently in the process of conquering a

Citadel of their own, far west. Beastmaster was protecting the stronghold of
the Song Army and slowly cleansing the western reach of the Collarbone
Plain. Lightslayer had never shown herself after the war council, so he had
no idea where she was.

The Queen of Worms was aware that the Lord of Shadows had allied
himself to Valor. It wasn't hard to deduce that he would be used to disrupt
their supply lines... was Revel leading a small force of elite warriors to
repel the supposed raid party?

Or had she planned to assault the Nameless Temple itself?

If so...

It could be troublesome.

Sunny‘s Citadel was not defenseless, even if he wasn't there personally.

Nightmare was protecting it. More importantly, it had the Guardian — the
invisible being that no mere Saint could sense, let alone destroy.

And Sunny himself was much closer to the southern edge of the Breastbone
Reach now than he had been before. He could return to the Nameless
Temple relatively quickly, if need be. Better yet, he could travel to the
waking world and step back into the great hall of the Nameless Temple in
mere minutes.

But still, still...

Sunny was uneasy.

'I'll send a shadow back right after we conquer the Citadel. Just in case.‘
Losing the Nameless Temple was not an option, so he had to be careful.
Frowning behind the mask, he turned his gaze south.

Tomorrow, they would face the guardian of the old ruin and challenge it in a
battle...

And after that, the nature of the war in Godgrave would irrevocably change.
1884 Scarlet Garden

They set out in the morning — which wasn't any different from the day in
Godgrave. The jungle, which had been teeming with Nightmare Creatures
before, gradually became quiet and eerily empty as they moved further
south, making the Saints tense with its sudden tranquillity.

Even the plants, which were as predatory as the beasts in the scarlet jungle,
remained still.

That was because the conquest force was entering the land which belonged
to the master of the old ruin… the creature they were meant to defeat.

As they moved, Saint Jest happened to catch up with Sunny, who was
leading the party. The old man was using his cane to swat away branches
and vines, looking annoyed because of the heat and humidity.

"That guardian we're supposed to kill… what kind of creature was it

again?"

Sunny turned his head briefly, giving Saint Jest an impassive look.

"I do not know. Although I explored the Hollows casually, I never failed to
avoid getting too close to this place. All I can say is that the guardian of the
Citadel is a Great Nightmare Creature of a higher Class… a Terror, perhaps.
Maybe even a Titan."

The old man chewed his lips.

"A Great Terror, really? Gods, the world is changing… it used to be that the
existence of such beings was merely a theory. In fact, I remember mocking
a bunch of academics viciously for suggesting that something this
unreasonable exists! And here I am, on my way to battle one. Who's the
fool now, huh?"

Sunny smiled behind the mask.

"I'd say that we are all fools, for choosing to face such a creature
voluntarily."

He paused for a moment, then added in his usual cold tone:

"Still, what's wrong with being a fool?"

Saint Jest gave him a surprised look, then laughed.

"Exactly! I couldn't have put it better myself. What a poignant sentiment…

now, we just need to work on your delivery…"

Soon enough, the canopy of the jungle parted, and they found themselves
on the shore of a vast lake. Dozens of rivers joined to form it, and even
though the storm had already passed, the lake was still full and deep.

At the center of the lake, a tall structure rose from the water. It looked both
like a beautiful temple and a grand castle... however, that castle was unlike
any other that Sunny had seen.

Its walls were made out of pale wood instead of stone — not out of boards
or logs, though. Instead, it was as if countless white trees had grown and
fused into a seamless whole to form the shape of a towering structure.The
entirety of it was one great keep that resembled a pagoda, with layers of
tiled roofs, deep eaves, and triangular gables.

The crimson tiles of the sloped roofs were worn and faded, but they must
have been vividly scarlet once, just like the canopy of the jungle. The white
temple was overgrown with vermilion moss, with vines and tree branches
protruding from the gaping holes in its broken roofs and empty windows.
As such, it almost looked like a vertical garden that rested in the middle of
the lake.

Sunny studied it with unease, but also with a sense of curiosity.

He wondered what purpose that beautiful structure had served once, before
the civilization that thrived in the Hollows once was destroyed.
Was it a sacred place where people came to worship? A stronghold to
protect them from the perils of the shattered world? A logistical hub where
the ships sailing to the far reaches of the Hollows came to trade?

Considering how many rivers connected to the lake, the latter would make
sense. Or maybe all three of his theories were true, and the garden temple
served many purposes while it was tended to by the ancient people.

In any case…

Sunny was pretty sure that Godgrave had been a part of Sun God's realm
once. As such, the civilization of the Hollows would have been infected by
the Nightmare Spell, and destroyed as a consequence — just like the
civilization of the Twilight Sea.

He had witnessed some of what these people had been capable of in the
ruins of Condemnation. Although they had not possessed the technology
and war machines of the waking world, the War God's realm, they were in
many ways no less advanced than them… even superior in some regards,
judging by the ingenious sorcery used to create the asuras.

Such a civilization had fallen, and now, Nightmare Creatures ruled over its
ruins.

Whatever sacredness the garden castle had once contained was gone,
replaced by vile corruption. And the abomination whose lair it had become
would be a terrible one, without a doubt.

Sunny sighed and extended his shadow sense forward. Something was
hiding there, behind the pale wooden walls… he could feel the eerie threat
of it, but not much else.

'...Damnation.'

He would have really preferred if it hadn't rained, and they could reach the
Citadel by walking. He was tired of diving into perilous lakes.

"There's no point in wasting time. Let's go."

The Saints prepared for battle. Before too long,Saint Roan assumed his
Transcendent Form — a beautiful lion with white fur and amber eyes
suddenly appeared on the shore of the lake, the vital spots on his mighty
body protected in an intricate armor. Turning his enormous head, the giant
beast lowered one wind and allowed the rest of them to climb onto his wide
back.

The only exceptions were Nephis, who summoned her wings, and Sunny,
who turned into a crow.

The white lion let out a low, reverberating growl and pushed himself off the
ground. A small hurricane was stirred by his wings, and he soared into the
air, flying above the dark waters of the lake in the direction of the Citadel.

Sunny and Nephis followed.

…To his surprise, they reached the distant temple safely. The lake remained
still, as if there were no swarms of dreadful abominations hiding in its
depths. In fact, Sunny could not sense any movement in the water at all.

And yet, he could swear that it smelled faintly of blood. It almost felt like
someone was watching him, as well.

They landed on the steps that led to the gates of the ruined Citadel. The
Saints jumped to the ground, and Roan dismissed his Transformation.

Nephis took the lead and ventured forward with tense caution, holding her
sword at the ready.

No one spoke, afraid to inform the enemy of their arrival.

They had just passed the gate and entered the echoing interior of the garden
temple when Sunny finally sensed it…

Not a shadow, but a movement of all the shadows, as if a source of light

was barreling toward them with terrible speed.

...Then, there was a flash, and an arrow that seemed to be woven of

moonlight brushed past Nephis, piercing the chest of one of the Saints.
1885 Fortune Favors the Bold

The arrow was aimed at Neph's head, but despite how fast it flew, she still
managed to dodge it. The arrowhead left a long cut on her cheek, then
pierced the chest of a Saint who stood behind her.

'Shot from elevation.‘

That was the first thought that crossed Sunny's mind, who had
subconsciously traced the arrow's trajectory.

Then, for a few moments, everything moved too fast for him to think.

The wounded Saint let out a stifled yelp and started to fall, blood splattering
on the wooden floor. His armor should have been robust enough to if not
deflect, then at least dissipate the force of the arrow, so that it did not pierce
too deeply. However, somehow, the moonlight arrow seemed to ignore the
durability of the enchanted metal and the resilience of Transcendent flesh,
killing him on the spot.

Just like that, a Saint died.

"Ambush!"

Before anyone else could react, Sunny called upon the shadows and
summoned an impenetrable wall in front of them. Almost instantly, two
more ethereal arrows struck it, the impacts producing thunderous bangs.
That wall of shadows quaked and cracked.

Nephis was already moving.

Strangely enough, she wasn't lunging into the darkness to shorten the
distance between her and the hidden archer. Instead, she was spinning
around, searching for something beyond the gates of the castle.

The thin cut on her cheek was yet to fill with blood, glowing softly with
ethereal, pale light.
"Shield Wall! "

Her sword was pointing to the outside.

A split second after Sunny's wall materialized, Sir Rivalen had already
answered her call. The air behind them shimmered, and an invisible force
field manifested itself in the gateway of the Citadel. Its faint contours
resembled a grid of ghostly, interlocked shields...

But before the shields closed, two more arrows — these ones made out of
wood and steel, not moonlight — slid into the swiftly narrowing gaps,
striking two more Saints in the back.

One struck the thin gap between the edge of a man's breastplate and his
helmet, piercing his neck. The other hit the crack between the front half of a
cuirass and the back half, slithering its way through the victim's ribs.

The level of accuracy needed to perform such shots was unimaginable.

The first Saint was killed instantly, but the second survived despite the
heavy injury. Still, he was temporarily rendered powerless — unless a
potent healer spent time treating his wound, he would not be participating in
the battle. Finally, the two bodies fell to the floor. The moonlight arrow
dimmed and dissolved into nothingness, leaving a haunting afterglow in its
wake. The cut on Neph's cheek swelled with blood... the conquest team,
reduced to twelve members in an instant, was now protected from all sides
by the barrier of shadows and Saint Rivalen's invisible aegis.

For a moment, nothing happened.

They possessed a devastating amount of power, but surrounded and not

knowing where to aim it, the champions of the Sword Domain found
themselves in an awkward position.

Sunny was holding the serpentine odachi, ready to act. Nephis was standing
still, a deep scowl on her face... there was something off about her, but he
could not immediately tell what.
Saint IIelie, the stern woman who had chastised Iest of Dagonet for his
jokes, had nocked an arrow on the string of her bow. The old man himself
had twisted the handle of his cane, revealing it to be a hidden sword.
Golden arcs of electricity were dancing around Roan's ironclad figure,
illuminating his handsome, somber face.

Rivalen of Aegis Rose was kneeling near the wounded Saint, protecting the
man with his shield.

'...Why can't I sense anything?‘

Sunny felt grim apprehension at his failure to detect the enemies in

advance. By now, it was clear that what had attacked them was no
Nightmare Creature... No. They were humans.

Transcendent champions of Song.

His eyes widened slightly, and a crooked smile twisted his lips behind the
mask. 'How daring...‘

Everyone expected the leaders of the Song Army, which had been losing the
war at first, to concentrate all their forces on conquering the Citadel on the
western edge of the dead god's collarbone — after all, it was quite close to
their camp. And they had. However, it seemed that they had gone after the
Citadel in the northern reach of the titanic skeleton's breastbone as well,
sending a small team to infiltrate it in secret and ambush the Sword Army's
conquest force.

A bold strategy, especially considering how hard it would have been for a
handful of Saints to reach this far into the Hollows without the support of
an army.

But...

Did they really hope to survive a battle against Changing Star of the
Immortal Flame clan and the Lord of Shadows?

Boldness did not always pay off.

Sunny would have expected Nephis to heal the wounded Saint, but instead,
she raised her sword and said evenly:

"Reveal yourself."

For a moment, he was stunned by the childishness of her demand. Why

would the enemy laying in the ambush reveal their well—hidden position
and give up the advantage?

He would certainly never respond to her call.

However... perhaps, he did not understand something about the world.

Because in the next moment, he finally sensed the shadows moving again as
something massive flew at them from the darkness of the ancient temple.

An enormous creature soared above the wooden floor and then plummeted
down, crashing into the wall of shadows with a deafening boom. The barrier
finally crumbled, and Sunny saw the shape of the dead thing as it sprawled
motionlessly on the floor.

It was a towering, vaguely humanoid abomination wrapped in a billowing

dark robe. Elements of intricate silver armor covered its long arms and
slender torso, and six pairs of beautiful grey wings extended from its back,
laying on the floor in a broken, bloodied mess.

It must have been great and harrowing once. But now...

It was dead.

The winged giant had not leaped at the barrier of shadows. It was simply
tossed at it by someone's powerful hand, discarded like a sack of dead flesh.

Sunny's expression darkened.

'This... is the guardian of the Citadel.‘

There were no moonlight arrows flying at them from somewhere above.

Instead, there was the sound of steps.
Then, a slender silhouette walked out of the darkness, piercing the twelve
Saints with a cold and arrogant look.

She was a breathtaking woman with raven—black hair and eyes that
seemed to be cut from pure obsidian. Her slender body was encased in a
suit of dark leather armor, and she wielded a curved sword akin to a tachi,
its pommel mapped in a black silk cord.

With her alabaster skin, exquisite beauty, and cold expression, she was
undeniably stunning... but, more than that, her presence was vast and
oppressive, like the lightless expanse of a boundless, dark ocean.

The woman met Neph's gaze and spoke loudly:

"I am Revel, the Lightslayer."

Then, her alluring lips twisted slightly into a semblance of a dark, joyless
smile. She pointed her sword forward and said, her voice full of aloof
coldness:

"...Welcome to the Song Domain."

And as the words left her mouth, the corpse of the Great Terror suddenly
stirred.

The bodies of the two slain Saints stirred, as well, reaching toward their
former comrades with murderous, dead hands.
1886 Dark Dancer

'Damn it.'

Lightslayer had already taken the Citadel...

And, therefore, Ki Song's Domain had already descended on Godgrave.

There were a couple more conclusions Sunny made in the split moment
before Revel's words resounded in the darkness of the ancient castle and the
corpses came alive, but there was not much time to contemplate.

Since Revel was here, then the first arrow must have been shot by
Moonveil. The two from behind... had to be Silent Stalker.

Who else was here?

Three Saints, no matter whether they were the Queen's daughters, were not
enough to take on the conquest force of the Sword Army... even with the
element of surprise on their side. Unless Ki Song was here personally, he
struggled to understand what their plan was.

And she couldn't be here in person — for the simple reason that only two of
the fourteen Saints had died, not all of them.

The corpses of the two slain champions came alive, lunging at their former
comrades. They did not accomplish much, though — as soon as they had
stirred, Neph's sword beheaded one, while the other was gruesomely
dismembered by Saint Jest's cane sword. It happened in a heartbeat, so swift
that Sunny did not even notice the thin blade move.

The corpse of the Great Terror was blasted back by a blinding bolt of
lightning that Roan seemed to have sent flying from his sword. The creature
was delayed, but not destroyed.

The rest of the Sword Saints all exploded with motion, dispersing as they
summoned the power of their Aspects or assumed their Transcendent forms.
Suddenly, the area in front of the castle gates felt very overcrowded.
Sunny noticed Saint Rivalen, in his heavily armored rhino form, ramming
into the wooden gates of the ancient stronghold and barreling straight
through them, on his way to challenge Silent Stalker.

Saint Helie's Transcendent form was that of a towering, graceful centaur —

pushing herself into a leap with four hooves, she simultaneously let an
arrow loose.

He did not waste much time watching, though.

His target was Revel.

Before IIelie's arrow could strike, Sunny already stepped through the
shadows while lashing out with his odachi. There was a heavy feeling in his
chest — if his last conclusion was correct, than this would be his only
chance to end the battle easily.

Sadly, Lightslayer was too swift, and too skilled. Dancing away with an
easy step, he deflected his blow with her sharp do despite the sudden and
unpredictable nature of his attack. He also dodged Helie's arrow with the
same motion.

"The Lord of Shadows, I presume..."

Her husky voice remained calm.

Sunny cursed inwardly.

In the next moment, a deafening howl seemed to shatter the world, and a
bestial silhouette leaped from somewhere above, landing between the Saints
of the Sword Domain.

A light smile twisted Revel's lips.

"...You're mine."

With that...
A tide of pure darkness suddenly drowned everything around them — true,
elemental darkness. It suffocated Sunny's shadow sense, turned him blind,
and at the same time cut him off from his source element.

A split second later, he felt space itself become twisted around him, and
suddenly, the clangor of battle grew distant. It was as if he was transported
somewhere else in the castle, separating him from the rest of the conquest
force.

He didn't know whether that was some Memory Revel used, a power of
another Song Saint, or a Component of the lake Citadel. However, he knew
that wherever he was, there was someone else there with him.

'True darkness...'

True darkness was the natural enemy of shadows. With how unique and
varied Aspects were, Sunny knew that he would run into an Awakened with
affinity to it sooner or later. He also guessed what was happening after
failing to sense the ambush and see Revel until she stepped in front of the
Saints of the Sword Domain.

Why did it have to be one of Ki Song's daughters, of all people? What did
darkness even have to do with the lineage of Beast God, which the
princesses of Song all seemed to share despite not being related to the
Queen by blood? Luckily... he wasn't defenseless against elemental
darkness, either.

Sunny released his odachi and let it fall to the ground. Before it did, Serpent
abandoned the Soul Weapon form and turned into a Nightmare Creature that
resembled an enormous firefly — one of the Corrupted abominations Sunny
had killed a long time ago, in the Burned Forest.

Darkness might have been the natural enemy of shadows, but it feared light.
Serpent's body ignited with brilliant radiance, chasing the darkness away —
instantly, Sunny could see that he was standing in the middle of a vast,
overgrown hall. Roots and scarlet vines grew through the cracked walls, the
bulging floor, and the broken ceiling, making it seem like the thick of the
jungle. Lightslayer was standing a few meters away, looking at him with the
same aloof expression.

Her darkness had retreated, but it was not vanquished — instead, it flowed
around them like a dark cloud, suffocating the light produced by Serpent.
For now, there seemed to be a fragile balance between the two elements,
with neither being able to destroy the other.

Sunny smiled behind his mask as Saint and Fiend rose from his shadows.

"You didn't really think that would work, did you?"

Revel studied Saint for a few moments, then nodded.

"No. I didn't."

With that, two figures suddenly stepped out from behind her.

Sunny's heart grew cold.

Standing on both sides of Revel, the Lightslayer — the first of Ki Song's

daughters to reach Transcendence — were...

Two perfect copies of her.

They were both beautiful, clad in dark leather armor, with raven-black hair
and obsidian eyes... dark, cold, and breathtaking.

Suddenly, there were three of Revel in front of him... or one Revel and her
two incarnations.

It was as if Sunny was looking at his own reflection.

His eyes widened slightly.

'Reflection...‘

In the next moment, the Reflections unleashed two tides of darkness of their
own, and suddenly, the light was overpowered...
****

On the stone steps outside the ancient Citadel, several Saints were battling
the elusive Silent Stalker.

Beyond the gates, the rest of them were entangled in a ferocious fight
against three bestial monsters. One of them was Lonesome Howl, another
of Ki Song's daughters. The other two were Mordret's Reflections. The
corpse of the dead Great Terror was also there — damaged, but unrelenting.

Deeper in the hall, Saint Jest of Dagonet was facing a towering gargoyle.
The creature's noble face, which seemed to be carved from grey stone, bore
a distant and somber expression.

The old man grinned.

"The Saint of Sorrow, huh?"

The gargoyle lowered its head slightly.

Saint Jest shook his head dejectedly.

"Goodness... that girl Ravensong just had to send the dullest man in the
world to fight against me. How mean..."

And somewhere else, on the highest floor of the majestic castle...

Nephis was surrounded by three delicate young women. Each of them had
enchanting features, white hair, and beautiful eyes that seemed to glimmer
with the afterglow of pale moonlight.

Neph's check was still cut, the left side of her face painted with blood.

She touched the cut briefly and looked at her fingers, frowning at the sight
of blood.

"...Are you Princess Moonveil?"

All three of the young women smiled.

However, only one spoke:

"Indeed. However..."

The pale radiance of her eyes slowly dimmed, turning them into two gaping
windows into an abyssal, lightless void.

Suddenly, the hall seemed colder, darker, and full of echoing emptiness.

"I am also called the Black Moon. That name, I think, suits me better."

Nephis looked at her fingers again. There was no radiance beneath her skin.
The blade of her sword remained dull, devoid of incandescent light.

...Her wound wasn't healing.

1887 Never Before

A terrible battle was raging on the grounds of the mystical castle, making
the Citadel groan and quake. Its ancient walls were cracking, and crimson
tails were raining from the sloped roofs, falling into the surging waters of
the deep lake. The dim twilight of the Hollows was torn apart by flashes of
blinding light.

On the edge of the foaming water, a taciturn woman in a black hunting

attire was calmly drawing her bow as an enormous rhino was barrelling at
her down the stone stairs, shattering the weathered steps into dust as he
charged. Unshaken, the woman silently released the wet string. It shot
forward, leaving a string-shaped cloud of water droplets behind — the
twisting arrow pierced the humid air and unerringly struck the rhino's right
eye just moments before the giant beast rammed its horn through her chest.

The beast was cunning, though. It shut one of his eyes just before the arrow
hit — the arrowhead spent most of its destructive force to penetrate the
heavy eyelid, damaging the rhino‘s eye, but failing to kill him on the spot.

His furious bellow shook the world as blood flowed down its snout.

However, before the rhino could impale the huntress on his horn, she finally
moved.

In the next moment, a giant black panther leaped on the charging giant, tore
the tough hide on his neck and back with her claws, and soared into the air.
Landing on the wall of the castle, the panther ran up its surface, then spun
and pushed herself into another jump in a blink of an eye. Splinters of wood
flew in all directions, and a black blur shot toward the ground, where two
more Saints had just emerged from the broken gates...

A powerful tremor shook the entire Citadel, and a devastating shockwave

rolled from the darkness inside, pulverizing the debris of the gates into fine
dust.
The clash between Shield Wall and Silent Stalker would have been a
harrowing sight for many — after all, it wasn't often that two Saints fought
each other... or at least it had not been before the Domain War.

But today, it was just a minor spectacle happening on the fringes of the true
battle.

Inside the castle, a hell that humanity had never witnessed before was
blossoming in all its dreadful, murderous glory.

Eight Transcendent champions of the Sword Domain had clashed with

Lonesome Howl of the Song Clan and the Saint of Sorrow, aided by two
Reflections sent by Mordret, the Prince of Nothing. These many human
Transcendents had never fought before.

The violent forces released by the clash of the Saints had wrecked the
interior of the ancient Citadel, turning it into a scene of utter destruction —
it might have withstood the fall of the civilization that had built it, the
ruthless reality of the Hollows, and thousands of years of desolation, but it
was slowly coming undone under the obliterating carnage of the bloody
battle.

The wooden walls were cracking. The floor was on the verge of collapsing.
The ceiling of the grand hall was crumbling, supported only by the vines
and the roots of the trees that had permeated the sacred castle over the
countless years. Lonesome. Howl's Transcendent form was that of a giant,
monstrous wolf. Her fur was black like the night sky, and her bestial eyes
were burning with frenzied red flame. Terrifying fangs were glistening in
her enormous maw, each taller than an adult man.

They were already painted scarlet by fresh blood.

The princess of Song herself had clashed with a noble lion, the two of them
entangled into a devastating hurricane of white and black. Bolts of lightning
were dancing in the air, and steaming blood was spilling on the shattered
floor, flowing into the bowels of the ancient Citadel.
The two Reflections had assumed the forms of terrifying black wolves, as
well. Only... unlike Lonesome Howl, who was a Transcendent Beast, both
of them were Supreme ones.

They lacked the will and ingenuity of humans, but were much stronger.
More than that, both of them possessed the divine lineage of Beast God, just
like the princess of Song did, and therefore, the Saints of Swords could not
overpower the Reflections despite their numerical advantage.

And worst of all...

The corpse of the Great Terror slain by the Song sisters was moving, as
well, risen by malevolent will, indifferent to pain, and nearly indestructible.

The bodies of two Saints that had been killed in the ambush were moving
too. The one dismembered by Jest of Dagonet was struggling weakly on the
ground, unable to rise... the one beheaded by Changing Star's sword,
however, stood up slowly, blood flowing down his lustrous breastplate from
his severed neck. A moment later, he lunged at the nearest human, sinking
his fingers into their flesh.

Startled and momentarily immobilized, the grabbed Saint activated one of

his Aspect Abilities to sever the dead man's arms. However, he did not
receive a chance to — because of the delay, he failed to evade in time, and
the paw of a frenzied wolf crashed into him, ripping open his armor, chest,
and throat.

The bloodied corpse fell to the ground...

...A few moments later, though, it moved, slowly rising backup.

Saint Jest observer] the harrowing scene with a wry expression.

Turning back to the towering gargoyle he had been fighting, the old man
smiled.

"How vexing. Not only is my Aspect useless against you, but you are even
protecting the she—wolf pup against me. And that stone body of yours
refuses to be cut. Ha! If that is not. irony, then I don't know what is..."

Then, his smile slowly turned dark, sinister, and eerily chilling.

"But you know, Sorrow's son..."

Something moved beneath Jest's clothes, and his form suddenly started to
change, ripping them apart.

His voice had changed, as well, growing deep and inhuman:

"The funny thing is, that only makes me want to cut you open more..."

There was a deafening crash somewhere above them, and the Citadel shook
once again — this time much more violently than before. A section of its
outer walls collapsed, revealing the interior of several overgrown floors.

A tide of darkness spilled from one of them, followed by two falling

figures.
1888 A Neat Trick

Sunny was troubled.

Not only because he was facing Revel the Lightslayer and two Reflections,
separated from the rest of the group and having no clue how Nephis was
doing, but also because the familiar voice in his head was silent.

[Cassie?]

There was no answer.

Either the Song sisters had a way to isolate those who entered the Citadel
from the outside world — be it because of the Citadel itself, a mysterious
facet of the Queen's Domain, or some other means — or something else
was happening on the surface, not allowing Cassie to split her attention.

In any case, at that moment, Sunny realized that he had grown both
accustomed and reliant on having the blind seer be his invisible companion.

Her silence made him feel uneasy.

But there was no time to dwell on that...

Because Revel was already attacking.

The true darkness summoned by her and the two Reflections had
overpowered the light emanating from Serpent, drowning the overgrown
hall once again. The giant firefly's body grew dim and bleak, its radiance
snuffed out. Even the infernal glow of Fiend's fire was extinguished.

Sunny was blind once again... he just barely managed to manifest a sword
from the shadows before they were consumed by the darkness.

He took a step back and moved his odachi. In the next moment, a violent
impact reverberated through his bones, and he felt a sharp blade being
blocked by his own. Twisting it into a bind, Sunny calmly shifted his weight
and delivered a crushing forward kick — there was the sound of soft soles
scraping against wood, as if someone had leaped back, and his kick struck
nothing but air. Almost at the same time, he heard an irritated growl, and a
long jet of red flame momentarily pushed the darkness away, revealing the
silhouettes of the fighters.

Saint had moved to protect Serpent from the deadly attack launched by one
of the Reflections — just as the hall became briefly enveloped in dim red
glow, a sharp do sword landed on her shield, sending a powerful shockwave
rolling outward and tearing the ancient roots apart.

Fiend had been weakened by true darkness, as well — the jet of flame he
spat failed to catch the second Reflection, and it leaped into the air,
delivering a flying kick to his wide chest. Another shockwave cracked the
floor, and the steel giant staggered back.

Both Reflections looked like the darkly beautiful Princess Revel.

But Revel herself was standing in front of Sunny, just a few meters away.

As both of them ignored the shockwaves and the light of Fiend's flame died
out, her cold voice resounded in the darkness:

"...Neat trick"

She sounded both impressed by and indifferent to the fact that he had
managed to deflect her first attack despite being blinded by the darkness.

A moment later, her voice drowned in the deafening cacophony of his

Shadows battling Mordret‘s Reflections.

'Crap...‘

Sunny shifted his stance and defended his side. There was another impact,
and although he prevented Revel's blade from biting into his armor, its tip
still scraped against the Onyx Mantle, pushing him back and almost
throwing him off balance.

The reason Sunny was able to defend himself against the Lightslayer was
simple — it was a combination of his experience and Shadow Dance, as
well as the threefold augmentation of his shadows. He might not have had
the time to glean the true essence of her battle style, but he knew enough to
predict where she would attack from, and how.

...More or less. She was too swift and powerful to be a mere Saint, which
meant that her Aspect was granting her some kind of augmentation of her
own.

Still, Revel's sword was very similar to a tachi, and Sunny knew how to
wield one very well. Her Aspect, meanwhile, seemed to allow her
impossible freedom of movement within the darkness — a trait reminiscent
of the Black Knight of the ruined cathedral, whom Sunny had killed many
years ago... as well as his own Shadow Step, in a way.

In fact, Sunny and Revel even looked somewhat alike. It was not that their
features were that similar — there were plenty of pale people with raven
hair and dark eyes in the world. It was just that they shared a certain bleak
style. After all, shadows could easily be mistaken for true darkness, and
vice versa. That was why Sunny could tell how she would try to kill him, to
a degree. He simply defended against what he himself would do.

It had worked until now...

But how much longer would it preserve his life?

Without shadow sense, he could not peer into Revel's intentions with
Shadow Dense. Without sight, he couldn't see what she was doing. She
could betray his expectations and deliver a subpar attack just to throw off
his predictions. She could gain an edge over him by simply being patient.

She could even neglect him entirely and move to dispatch one of his
Shadows from behind first.

'Damn it!‘

Sunny had not felt so powerless in a long, long time.

The Citadel groaned and quaked around them. He clashed with Lightslayer
a few more times, barely managing to avoid death in the barrage of
insidious, lethal attacks. Her swordsmanship was stellar, and her mastery of
combat was fearsome. He blocked or deflected some blows and weakened
the impact of the rest — Revel's sword rattled his body and left scars on the
surface of the Onyx Mantle, but his armor held.

The sharp blade did slide into its cracks a couple of times, causing him
torturous pain, but dealing little damage.

"That‘s... one vile enchantment...‘

Revel's sword seemed to infect everything it touched with a plague of

potent poisons, causing unbearable pain, paralysis, wasting, and necrosis all
at the same time.

Blood Weave devoured them hungrily, preventing any of the poisons from
spreading to his heart.

A cold scoff came from the darkness.

"...Are you even human? I can't smell your blood at all."

Sunny smiled crookedly behind his mask.

"Human? No... I am just a shadow. Shadows don't really bleed."

Despite his smile, he was grim. Surviving Revel's onslaught was useless —
the initiative was fully on her side, and his Shadows were being tied down
by Mordret's Reflections. At least one of them had to be Supreme, it
seemed... otherwise, Saint would have destroyed her enemy already.

If this went on, he was going to lose.

And then, he would die.

Well, not really. At least one of his shadows would be destroyed, leaving
Sunny weakened and an incarnation short.
But he would most likely survive.

Even if all four of the shadows were killed, Sunny's soul would not collapse
-— after all, it was fortified by Soul Weave. A normal human's soul would
crumble and dissipate if its integrity was violated too severely, but he was
different. As long as at least a shred of Sunny's soul remained, it would be
able to one day restore itself.

However...

What about the rest of the Saints of the conquest force? What about Roan?
...What about Nephis?

He needed to think of something. A tactical shift... a new strategy.

Sunny gritted his teeth.

Then... he gave his Shadows a mental command.

A moment later, Fiend turned around, rushed blindly at the wall of the
overgrown hall, and collided with it at terrible speed.

The great weight of the towering devil and his Supreme power caused the
entire Citadel to quake. An entire section of the castle's wall collapsed, and
Fiend — as well as the Reflection pursuing him — tumbled outside, falling
into the distant lake.

In the chaos, Serpent scurried toward Saint and leaped into the air, turning
into a serpentine odachi. Saint dismissed her dark blade and grasped the hilt
of the odachi with an unshaken fist.

And Sunny...

Sunny released the hold on his avatar, allowing the Lord of Shadows to turn
into a one.

The true darkness consumed the wild shadows, but it could not consume
Sunny's own — just like he could not command or manifest the shadows of
living beings.
If his true body was here, he would not have been able to assume an
intangible form, since there were no shadows for him to dive into. But the
Lord of Shadows was a manifested avatar — therefore, his natural form was
that of a shadow, to begin with.

So, Sunny was able to abandon the physical form without losing control of
the incarnation. He had become a shadow in the depths of a sea of darkness.

For a moment, there were four shadows — haughty and his three
companions — drowning in the that sea. It felt eerie and unpleasant, as
though something was gnawing at Sunny's very soul.

However, he could still control the avatar.

So, he did something that he had never tried before.

Followed by the other three shadows, he crawled across the floor in the
direction where Saint was fighting against the Reflection...

And wrapped himself around her body, fusing with it like any other of his
shadows would.
1889 Heart of Stone

True darkness was Sunny's natural enemy.

However, to Saint, it was a weapon.

Because she had been born in the Underworld, where darkness reigned.

[Heart of Darkness] Attribute Description: "A vestige of an ancient darkness

dwells in this Shadow's heart, granting her tenebrous powers."

[Mantle of Darkness] Ability Description: "Darkness embraces this Shadow.

When surrounded by darkness, and true darkness more so, her swiftness and
might will increase. Her wounds will be healed, and her heart will grow
fuller." [Blade of Darkness] Ability Description: "The true darkness
dwelling in this Shadow's heart can be summoned in the form of a fearsome
weapon, as long as the Shadow has mastered the use of that weapon. The
Blade of Darkness can slay those of flesh and those of spirit; it never dulls,
never falters, and never breaks. Alternatively, the darkness can be
summoned to augment a mundane weapon." ...When Revel summoned the
tide of elemental darkness, Sunny's powers were suppressed. Fiend and
Serpent were weakened, as well.

But Saint only grew stronger.

There were not one, but three sources of true darkness around the graceful
stone knight — the Lightslayer and two Reflections who had mirrored her
Aspect. Therefore, Saint's heart was overflowing with power. Her body was
nourished by the darkness, growing stronger, faster, and more enduring.

Most importantly of all, she wasn't blinded by the darkness — instead, her
perception had only become sharper.

That was why Sunny had abandoned his usual ways. In most battles, he
himself played the role of the main blade of the Shadow Cohort — while
the Shadows supported him, it was his task to deliver the fatal blow.
But in the sea of elemental darkness, Saint was the best and only option.
The rest of them were not only an inferior choice, but also a liability... so,
Sunny had chosen to remove himself from the battle, betting everything on
Saint.

The taciturn knight was already empowered by the darkness. Now, three of
his shadows had bestowed their blessings upon her.

And, lastly, Sunny did something that he had never done before — turning
into a shadow, be wrapped himself around her stonelike body, hoping to add
the fourth blessing to the other three.

Surprisingly, it worked.

Sunny felt himself... fusing with Saint, like his shadows had done in the
past. It was a strange and indescribable feeling — not unpleasant, though.
Rather, it felt natural and even a little euphoric, as if he was doing
something that he had always been meant to do.

Not that he could have, before becoming a Saint. Even now, Sunny did not
know if something like that would have been possible if he attempted the
fusion with his original body instead of a shadow incarnation.

Suddenly, he found himself split between two conscious states. One of them
was that of himself — he was aware of his existence and identity, and
although he could not quite sense the bounds of his intangible form, he
knew that it was there. If he wished, he could move away from Saint,
regaining his independence.

The other state, however...

He would have gasped if he possessed a mouth to do so.

Sunny had become one with the graceful stone knight.

He was not in control of her body, but he shared her perception of the
world. He could feel the coolness of the intricate onyx armor where it
touched his stonelike skin, the subdued depth of the great power dwelling in
his flawless body, the warmth of the divine flame that burned in his chest
like an eternal engine, the flow of ruby dust in his veins.

He could also hear everything Saint heard, which was more than even a
Transcendent human could, and see everything she saw. His field of Vision
was somewhat obstructed by the narrow slit of the Visor of his helmet, but
still surprisingly wide.

Everything seemed different from how Sunny remembered it, not only
because Saint's eyes were not at all like his, but also because she was much
taller than any human, and her point of view was much higher.

Sunny could also feel the more esoteric parts of her perception — the mass
of darkness that dwelled in his heart, the flow of it around him, and other
things there which had no names in the human language.

It was probably what Cassie experienced when she used her Ascended
Ability and shared all senses with another being.

Saint was much more similar to a human than Sunny would have expected.
However, at the same time, the structure of her body and her senses were
entirely alien, and would have made him dizzy if not for the fact that Sunny
had already become accustomed to inhuman perspectives through Shadow
Dance and his extensive use of Shadow Shell.

Only, this way, he was submerged into the alien point of view much deeper,
further, and more comprehensively than ever before. It was quite a
revelation. In any case, it was... exhilarating. Sunny's own body was a well
—oiled machine tempered in countless battles to be a perfect vessel for
him, a pinnacle of athletic achievement — it was responsive, strong,
nimble, enduring, properly conditioned, and most of all Transcendent.
However, Saint's physicality was something different.

She was a masterpiece created by the Demon of Choice, after all.

Her being was more solid, monolithic, and purposeful. It was a work of art
as much as it was a living thing, and now, its power was further enhanced
both by the darkness and by the shadows.
Sunny could also sense faint echoes of Saint's unshakeable will.

He could feel it...

Her calmness, her cold confidence, her pride. A hint of recognition she felt
while facing Revel... because Revel was a Beast‘s spawn, and Saint had
battled others of her kin in the great war of old.

'How strange.‘

Sunny could not read Saint's thoughts, but he did understand something
about her. It was that the memories of her past life were not entirely gone.
However, they weren't entirely there, either... not quite erased, by dim and
faint, like a distant dream. A dream that someone else had dreamt, perhaps.

Before she was a Shadow.

It was a mercy, no doubt, considering that most of those memories were

tainted by the madness of Corruption.

As a Shadow...

Saint gripped the hilt of the Soul Serpent. The black odachi rippled and
shifted its form, turning into a heavy straight sword. Then, a stream of
darkness flowed from under her gauntlet, enveloping the sharp blade and
fusing with the stygian steel.

She turned her head and faced her two enemies — Princess Revel of the
Great Clan Song and the abominable creature that mirrored her existence.

Then, Saint stared them down with cold indifference, calmly raised her
sword, and struck it twice against the rim of her shield.

Sharing her senses, Sunny trembled with excitement.

'...I think I understand why she does it now.'

Honestly, it felt rather cool.

1890 Dark Tide

Now that Sunny could see through Saint's eyes, the ravaged hall of the
ancient Citadel was revealed to him once again. It had changed drastically
in a short span of time…

The outer wall was partially missing, torn open by Fiend's charge. Splinters
and debris littered the cracked floor. The scarlet vines and the roots of the
trees that had protruded from the ceiling were decimated, filling the air with
a sweet fragrance while they bled viscous — and undoubtedly toxic — sap.

Everything was drowning in darkness.

Before, Sunny had always seen darkness like a billowing cloud of

nothingness — an impenetrable black barrier that was uniform and
featureless, obscuring the world from his senses. However, now, he saw it
in a new light… or rather, the opposite of light.

To Saint's eyes, darkness was rich and full of nuance. It flowed all around
them, its fluid torrents creating beautiful patterns in the air. Moving, ebbing,
changing… almost like a living creature. The dark splendor of that scene
was subtle and breathtaking.

Sadly, Sunny had no time to enjoy the beauty of darkness, because

Lightslayer was not wasting even a moment.

To his surprise, Revel herself was like a part of the elemental darkness she
had unleashed. When she moved, her body seemed to become one with the
flow of it, dissolving into ethereal dark liquid before coalescing back into a
tangible form — because of that, she could travel to any point in the hall
with such tremendous speed that it almost seemed instantaneous.

The Reflection, which mirrored her appearance perfectly, was the same.

'A movement Aspect Ability? Or a partial Transformation?'

Sunny did not know.

A split second later, Saint was attacked from both sides.

Revel was far too strong and powerful for a Transcendent Beast, which
meant that at least one of the Abilities granted her a physical augmentation
— quite similar to Saint's own [Mantle of Darkness]. Although it was hard
to judge, Sunny suspected that the extent of that augmentation was greater
than even Effie's own potent physical enhancement.

Effie's Dormant Ability was universal, though, while Revel's seemed to

only work within the bounds of true darkness. So, there was some kind of
balance to her unreasonably powerful Aspect, at least.

Of course, another of her Abilities allowed her to summon a flood of

elemental darkness to anywhere she was. That was quite a problem.

Revel attacked from the left, while the Reflection attacked from the
right.Both strikes were insidious, devastating, and potent… however, Saint
was undeterred.

Blocking one blow with her shield and deflecting another with her sword,
she easily avoided the sharp blades and took a small step while shifting her
weight. Simultaneously, she bent the elbow of her sword arm and rotated
her wrist, binding Revel's sword and pulling her closer.

Although Saint faced two powerful enemies alone, her own augmented
power was no less fearsome than theirs. On top of that, she was much taller
than both of them, and possessed much greater mass.

As for her skill… she wasn't called a Battle Master without reason.

[Battle Master] Attribute Description: "Born on the battlefield, the Onyx

Saint is proficient in all forms of combat."

Her actions, while small and frugal, allowed her to create a little distance
between herself and the Reflection while simultaneously drawing closer to
Revel. With their swords still entangled in a bind, she ruthlessly struck with
the rim of her shield, aiming to crack open Revel's skull.
Lightslayer was forced to disengage — dissolving into a torrent of fluid
darkness, she instantly moved several meters back. At the same time, the
Reflection used the opportunity to deliver a blow to Saint's momentarily
unprotected side.

But the graceful knight was already bringing her shield back, pushing the
enemy's blade down with its rim. The sharp do scraped fruitlessly against
the side of her greave.

The whole clash took less than a heartbeat.

And in the next dozen seconds, countless clashes like that happened in an
unceasing succession, turning the dark hall of the ancient castle into a scene
of chilling destruction.

The thunderous sounds of clashing steel fused into a deafening litany.

Powerful shockwaves spread in all directions, decimating what little
tendrils of the scarlet infestation there were left. The ceiling crumbled, and
the floor collapsed.

The Citadel had obviously been built from mystical materials, considering
that it withstood the passage of time and countless disasters that must have
befallen it in the Hollows — and yet, it could not withstand the violent
forces unleashed by the battle.

Sunny was in awe.

He had never had a chance to experience someone else's battle skill so

clearly, so vividly, and so intimately. And it wasn't just anyone's skill, at that
— it was the sublime technique of Saint herself, who was one of the most
fearsome warriors he had ever met.

Measured, calculated, and insidiously lethal.Solid, grounded, and

explosively destructive.

It was both a joy and a privilege, to be exposed to such excellence without

any barriers. To not only observe how Saint fought, but also feel and
experience it as if her body was his own, as was her will.
Granted… the actual situation was quite dire.

Saint plummeted through the broken floor and landed heavily on the
wooden surface of the level below, which cracked slightly under her
prodigious weight. Splinters and debris rained down, and darkness flowed
from above, swiftly drowning everything around.

Her intricate onyx armor was battered, its surface covered my cracks in a
few places. There was some ruby dust scattered across the polished surface,
as well — she had received several wounds. Luckily, her wounds were able
to heal faster when surrounded by true darkness, and since Revel and her
Reflections had generously provided copious amounts of the rare element,
those shallow cuts were already healed.

Her two enemies followed, coalescing from the torrents of darkness and
immediately resuming their assault.

Neither side had a decisive advantage — while Saint was being pressed by
Revel and the Reflection, she was like an indomitable wall of stonelike
metal. Their attacks shattered against her shield and armor, while her own
blade was a lethal threat.

Sadly, Saint wasn't able to harm either of her adversaries in turn. For the
moment, the furious battle had reached a fragile stalemate.

A few moments later, both Lightslayer and the Reflection disengaged, their
raven-black hair flying in the wind. Revel paused for a moment and looked
at Saint, a harsh expression settling on her beautiful face.

The Princess of Song remained silent for a second, then said in a low tone:

"A creature of darkness… just where did that man find you?"

Sunny did not have to answer, and Saint wasn't going to, either.

She stared down at Revel with her usual indifference, then raised her sword
slightly, preparing to attack.
However, at that moment, it seemed as if Lightslayer had come to a
decision.

She smiled coldly, and in the next moment, the surrounding darkness
enveloped her like a mantle…

At the same time, the entire Citadel suddenly shook, and a deafening sound
of splintering wood reached them from somewhere high above.
1891 Negative Power

Earlier…

On the highest floor of the ancient Citadel, Nephis was standing in the
middle of a blooming garden. All around her, heavy branches leaned under
the weight of scarlet flowers, and a sweet fragrance permeated the air.

Three women surrounded her — one of them was Moonveil, the Princess of
Song. The other two were most likely Reflections created by Mordret, the
estranged son of the King of Swords.

Drops of blood were falling from the cut on her cheek.

Nephis looked at her fingers, which were smeared in blood, with a frown.

'They prepared well.'

The current situation was troubling enough, but what dismayed her more
was how thoroughly the daughters of Ki Song seemed to be informed about
Godgrave and the movements of the Sword Army.

Venturing into the Hollows should not have been an easy task — otherwise,
she would not have needed an army of Awakened soldiers to carve a path
through the scarlet jungle. She could have simply led a team of Saints on a
clandestine excursion.

But she had not. That was because while Saints could brave the perils of the
Hollows, they could not do it for long. Sooner or later, they would meet
something that they could not defeat or escape from — and even if they
didn't, their essence would run out, leaving them stranded in the heart of the
ancient jungle. Then, they would die.

Even with a guide like the Lord of Shadows, her own forces had only dared
to descend into the Hollows after reaching the vicinity of the Second Rib —
and that was already a much more dangerous plan than the initial one.
Knowing where exactly the Citadels were located was supposed to be an
advantage of the Sword Domain.

However, Lightslayer and her sisters had reached this Citadel first, and
without an army. Gods only knew how they had managed that, but they
had… was it because of the Beast lineage? Or something else entirely?

Worse than that, they seem to know too much about the champions of the
Sword Army. Song definitely had spies among the warriors of Valor, but
were they that capable? Or was it all due to Death Singer, the blood oracle?
After all, although the future could not be glimpsed anymore, the same
could not be said about the present.

Or was it all the fault of the Prince of Nothing? Had he done more than just
fight his way to the Nameless Temple when visiting the Lord of Shadows
before the war?

Nephis did not know, but she did know that the Sword Army — her army
— had failed to outmaneuver the enemy.

Now,her Saints were being slaughtered down below. The Lord of Shadows
was fighting Dark Dancer Revel, whose powers seemed to directly counter
his.

And she herself was cornered by Moonveil, somehow robbed of her

powers.

The situation was dire. Not only had Song managed to take control of the
Citadel, but they could very well deal a fatal blow to the Sword Army by
eliminating fourteen of its Saint, including two of its strongest champions
— herself and Sunny.

Sunny…

The image of him bleeding on Revel's sword flashed in Neph's mind.

He did not really bleed, but still…

The corner of her mouth curved downward, and her gaze grew cold.
She looked at Moonveil and said in an even tone:

"Your power is to negate the Aspects of others."

The princess of Song just smiled silently.

'What a potent Ability…'

Nephis strained against the imperceptible barrier that prevented her from
summoning her flames, but it was all for naught. It was as if her Aspect did
not exist at all… or rather, was subdued. She did feel a sense of resistance,
but the force of suppression was too great to overcome.

Even her Memories seemed to be weakened. Perhaps that was why the
moonlight arrow had pierced the armor of Saint Sagramore so easily.

Perhaps if Moonveil was alone, Nephis could have broken through — her
Aspect was of the Divine Rank, after all, and she was of divine lineage. Her
soul was that of a Titan. But the power of two Reflections seemed to have
been added to the geas, making it nearly indestructible.

Lightslayer's power directly countered that of the Lord of Shadows. The

Saint of Sorrow could prevent Sir Jest from playing with the minds of Ki
Song's daughters.

And Nephis herself was countered by Moonveil — or rather, Moonveil was

a natural counter to any Awakened. That delicate woman, with her slender
build and soft features…

Was probably the most dreadful foe any Awakened could face.

There had to be some limitations to her power, certainly. Otherwise, she

would not have transported Nephis away from the rest of the Saints — she
would have simply negated all their powers, turning them defenseless.

Nephis looked at her bloodied fingers once again.

'The arrow.'
She had only discovered that her Aspect was sealed after the moonlight
arrow cut her cheek, and some of its radiance seemed to linger in the cut.

Nephis remained motionless for a moment, then turned her gaze back to
Moonveil.

"You said that the name Black Moon suits you better."

The Princess of Song smiled softly."Indeed."

Nephis took a deep sigh and circulated her essence.

Her Aspect was sealed, but her essence could still move.

Therefore, the situation was not too dire.

It could still be salvaged.

Because she had noticed that Moonveil… Black Moon… was not using any
of her Aspect Abilities, either. So, suppressing someone else's powers must
have come at the cost of suppressing her own.

Which meant that Nephis was still a Transcendent Titan facing three
Transcendent Beasts. Although her body was still that of a human, she was
stronger and faster than most other Saints. She would not lose to anyone in
a conquest of pure physicality and skill.

No…

Those Reflections could have been mirroring a Transcendent being, but she
could feel that they were much more powerful than Moonveil herself.
Supreme Beasts, then.

It was still not impossible for her to win.

And even if it had been impossible…

She would win somehow, anyway, because defeat was not an option.
"Thank you for telling me, Black Moon."

Saying that, Nephis dashed toward the daughter of Ki Song without wasting
another breath.

And as she did, she burned her essence and spoke the Names, channeling
them into a crude Phrase.

In that Phrase, the name of Black Moon was woven together with the name
of destruction.
1892 Purity of Steel

Moonveil was armed with a saber. When Nephis attacked, her own sword
— the Kinslayer — fell on it like a bolt of silver lightning. She had
activated one of its enchantments, infusing the somber blade with elemental
damage, and, at the same time, called upon the Nameless Sun and the
Testament of Malice.

The former gifted the mirror sword with the ability to damage souls, while
the latter augmented its edge with a corrosive quality — not too potent, but
cumulative.

Nephis had activated the enchantments of her armor, as well — those were
mostly defensive in nature, supporting her body in its lunge.

The more enchantments she used, the more of her essence would be
drained. But without the demanding expenditure of her Divine Aspect,
essence was the only thing that Nephis had at her disposal — there was no
point in trying to conserve it.

All her Memories were augmented by the Crown of Dawn, which she had
worn since the Forgotten Shore. And yet…

The suppressive force of Moonveil and her Reflections was so powerful

that the Memories still felt weak and impotent. It was as if her armor was
made of paper, and her sword was made from rusty steel.

The Kinslayer still held, but Nephis had a feeling that she would have to
request another suit of armor from the enchanters of Clan Valor after the
battle was over.

Sadly, they could not craft her a new body.

Despite Moonveil's soft appearance, she was a skilled fighter — Nephis

would not have expected anything less from a princess of Song.
Additionally, her delicate body seemed to possess fierce, bestial strength.
She deflected the Kinslayer easily, shifting her weight and placing her saber
at an angle that would both channel and dissipate the force of the impact.

Moonveil's expression was calm.

However, it changed the instant the two blades met.

Nephis had barely started to construct the Phrase, but it was already starting
to Shape the world. The blade of the saber was chipped deeply and almost
shattered, while Moonveil's bones almost snapped. The Queen's daughter
reeled back with a stifled hiss, and looked at her opponent with a stunned
expression.

Nephis had no time to enjoy her shock.

The two Reflections were already upon her.

There was a swarm of sparks swirling around her arm — the Memory she
was trying to summon only took a few short seconds to manifest. However,
in a battle like this one, a few seconds could become an eternity.

The world exploded into a whirlwind of violence.

Nephis was strong and swift,but fighting against three enemies was a losing
affair. Neither Moonveil nor the Reflections were weak, and they had the
priceless advantage of being able to attack her simultaneously from all
directions, working together to mangle her body and end her life.

All Nephis had was her swordsmanship… but that was what she knew best.

Everything seemed to disappear into the melodious song of steel. Her mind
was cleansed of all unnecessary thoughts, entering a state of absolute,
transcendent concentration.

A million observations, conclusions, and calculations were being conceived

in it at the same time.

Nephis knew her every muscle, every tendon, every bone, every nerve. Her
essence flowed and raged, enhancing her body just at the right time, and in
just the right amount.

The length of her sword, the tensile strength of its silvery blade. The
multitude of forces affecting what each impact did, and how it was
resolved. The movements of her enemies, and those of her own — all of it
was like a complicated dance that followed a beautiful logic, and one who
understood that logic could set the pace and cadence of the dance.

Above it all was another, much more labyrinthine layer. The layer of skill
and intent. Nephis understood them well, too — granted, her insight was
inferior to what Cassie was capable of, and Sunny seemed to be as well. But
it was enough to read what the enemy would do, most of the time.

So, she held on.

Her sword was like a flowing stream of silver metal, moving so fast that it
almost seemed to turn into a sphere around her. Her every step, every move
were flawlessly calculated and optimal, allowing her to defend against the
three enemies at the same time. She blocked, deflected, and evaded a
suffocating onslaught of blows, preventing Moonveil from making her
bleed.

For now.

It was… strange, to fight without using her Aspect.

Nephis had almost forgotten what it was like, to only rely on her trained
body and her skill as a swordsman. True, she called upon her powers as
scarcely as she could, always attempting to win without resorting to her
Aspect — but the circumstances rarely allowed it, and even if she managed
to hold out, the knowledge that her flames were hers to command was
always there.

She had expected that having to fight without them, and even without the
possibility of summoning them, would be limiting and suffocating.

But, in fact, it was liberating.

It was almost euphoric, because for the first time in a long,long time… she
was free of pain.

Such a simple thing, but it changed the feeling of this battle completely.

Nephis should have been tense, somber, and on the verge of despair.

She should have been clawing at the chance to turn the situation around.

She should have been missing her powers bitterly.

But instead, she was relieved.

The relief washed over her like a tide, and the simple delight of giving
herself completely to the sword put a faint smile on her face.

Her smile seemed to surprise Moonveil.

The princess of Song hesitated for a moment, then asked between two
graceful slashes of her saber:

"Why are you smiling, Changing Star?"

Nephis blocked an attack from one of the Reflections, caught another blow
on her vambrace and staggered back, feeling a stream of blood flowing into
her palm.

Her smile did not waver.

"It's just… refreshing. To be powerless, for once."

With that, she released the hilt of her sword with one hand and outstretched
her bloodied palm outward.

At that moment, the swirling sparks finally manifested into a Memory.

That Memory was a torch of black wood, a mass of ghostly blue flame
burning in a silver cage on its top.
The blue flames reflected in the placid depth of her calm, grey eyes.
1893 Child of Darkness

The garden temple standing in the middle of the dark lake shuddered, and
for a moment, the dim twilight of the Hollows was illuminated by a brilliant
blaze of cold light.

Powerful torrents of ghostly blue flame shot from the overgrown Windows
on the higher floor of the castle, extending dozens of meters in all directions
like rays of a fiery star. The vines and branches covering the embrasures
were instantly reduced to ash.

For a split second, the world seemed frozen. Then, a net of brilliant cracks
revealed itself on the ancient walls, and the entire top of the castle
disappeared in the annihilating radiance of a violent explosion.

A vast flower of blue flame blossomed above the dark lake. A cloud of
burning splinters was shot outward like shrapnel, and a deafening thunder
rolled across the surging water like a roar. The immense spire of the castle
tilted slowly, collapsing into the flames, and then plummeted down from a
great height.

As the billowing mass of flames rose into the air, the trees and vines
permeating the devastated upper floors of the Citadel caught fire. The fire
enveloped them hungrily, already spreading down.

Far below, Saint stood her ground as the entire structure of the castle
quaked. In front of her, Lightslayer was enveloped by a whirlpool of
darkness — her lithe body was obscured by the dark torrent, as if she had
become one with it.

And then, something moved in the darkness.

The darkness took shape, and suddenly, Saint had to raise her head to look
her enemy in the eye.

Revel had retained most of her human features... it was just that her beauty
had become even more breathtaking. Her height had increased, as well,
reaching almost four meters. Her raven hair seemed to have grown longer,
and two obsidian horns were protruding from her head, curving slightly.

Two black, bat—like wings grew from her back, each crowned with a sharp
obsidian spike.

With her flawless alabaster skin and tenebrous eyes, she was like a beautiful
demon of darkness... or a fallen angel, perhaps.

A moment later, her hypnotic gaze flashed with sudden intensity, and she
lunged forward. Her curved sword had increased in size, as well, turning
into a semblance of an odachi — or whatever the equivalent of an odachi
for a sword was.

Her Reflection was already enveloped in a whirlpool of darkness, as well.

Saint silently dashed forward to meet the attack.

Revel's sword collided with her shield, almost causing her arm to buckle.
The taciturn knight stubbornly withstood the terrifying force of the impact,
but it was still dreadful enough to send her staggering back a couple of
steps. However, at the same moment, one of Revel's wings shot forward
like a scorpion's tail, and the sharp obsidian spile — or a talon, perhaps —
flashed above the rim of the round shield, piercing Saint's armor and her
chest.

It wasn't easy to break the onyx armor of the Underworld, but Lightslayer's
wing did so easily.

The wing retreated as fast as it had struck, preventing Saint from slashing it
with her sword. But the other one was already descending to sting her from
the other side...

A stream of ruby dust flowed from the gruesome wound on her chest,
painting the onyx armor red.

Saint calmly moved her shield to deflect the obsidian talon. The blow
pushed her back once again, and a split second later, Revel spread her first
wing as it retreated, slashing at the Shadow with its edge.

The edge of her wing was sharper than a sword. Saint blocked it with her
sword, but a deep scratch was left on her gauntlet.

Revel's sword was already flying to slide into the visor of her helmet. Her
ability to use her weapon and her wings to create a seamless flood of
dreadful attacks was both strange and mesmerizing, elegant like a dance
and lethal like death's own embrace. Each movement flowed effortlessly
into another, creating a dark and morbid spectacle.

Behind them, the Reflection had already finished its Transformation.

The demonic creatures attacked Saint simultaneously, unleashing an

onslaught of attacks so terrifying that any other Transcendent Devil would
have been annihilated in a moment.

But the graceful stone knight facing them was not just any devil. She was
one of the Stone Saints, children of the Underworld. Empowered by the
blessing of shadows, she was far too fearsome to be easily defeated.

More than that, while Revel's Aspect countered that of her master, Saint
herself thrived in the elemental darkness called forth by the princess of
Song.

The dark hall was soon ruined by a hurricane of onyx and steel. The three
powerful creatures fighting a lethal battle under the collapsed ceiling of the
ancient chamber moved with astonishing speed, the fury of their fight so
tremendous that the mystical wood around them groaned and trembled, and
the darkness itself seemed to cower in fright.

Saint remained as cold and indifferent as always, her ruby eyes shining with
crimson flames. Her battered shield had resisted countless blows, and her
dark blade had tasted the blood of the enemy on a few occasions.

Sadly, all the wounds she had managed to deliver Revel and her Reflection
were shallow and insignificant.
Her own armor, meanwhile, was terribly shredded by now, breached in a
dozen places, and smeared in ruby dust.

However, surrounded by true darkness, Saint simply would not succumb to

the terrible wounds. Instead, they were healing at startling speed. The gash
on her chest had already closed, and the rest of them were not far behind.

Still... she could not continue in this manner for much longer. Albeit slowly,
her enemies were gaining the upper hand. The longer this battle continued,
the weaker she would grow, and the greater their advantage would become.

The hall was slowly filling with the smell of smoke.

Making a decision, Saint strained her tattered body and momentarily pushed
both creatures of darkness hack.

None of them moved for a short moment, gathering the strength for the next
attack.

Saint stared at the beautiful demoness, Revel, silently...

And then dropped her battered shield to the ground.

Her weapon rippled and elongated, turning into a heavy greatsword.

It was as if she was abandoning all pretense of defense in favor of

uncompromising offense.

In favor of an indomitable will to see her enemies dead no matter the cost.
The crimson flames burning behind her cracked Visor shone with cold light.
1894 Mutually Assured Salvation

Sunny had been a silent companion for Saint, losing himself in the
sensations of the furious battle. Revel was strong — too strong, even... in
hindsight, he might have become somewhat arrogant after attaining
Transcendence, which caused him to underestimate the champions of Song.

Why wouldn't the first Saint among the Queen's daughters be exceptionally
strong? Sure, Revel had always been unassuming, avoiding the spotlight
and public attention. There were no tales about her deeds or news about her
achievements in recent years. In fact, Sunny did not think that he had ever
seen a recording of her appearing in broad daylight...

And yet, he should have been more wary of the seven Transcendent sisters,
who had been raised by a Sovereign and inherited the lineage of Beast God.

Sunny was still confident that he could defeat each of them in battle — just
like he was confident that he could defeat Morgan.

...If not for the fact that Revel wielded power over elemental darkness as a
weapon and was aided by Mordret. That devious bastard.

How was he still causing problems for Sunny all the way from the shores of
the Stormsea?

Luckily, Saint countered I.ightslayer's Aspect just like it countered Sunny's

own. So, he wasn't too worried...

Until she discarded her shield and shifted her stance.

At that moment, Sunny finally sensed a hint of alarm.

He remembered that stance... It was a sign that she was abandoning her
usual conservative technique in favor of a savage and chillingly lethal one,
which was utterly ruthless — both to her enemies and to herself.

The darkness was permeated by the smell of smoke.

The roar of the explosion they had heard earlier must have been caused by
Nephis. She had not detonated her soul cores, it seemed — otherwise, the
entire Citadel would have been reduced to a pile of rubble. So, the
explosion must have been caused by her Aspect, the Sorcery of Names, or
both.

It was a sign that she was still alive and fighting, at least. However, Sunny
was struggling to understand what could have stalled her for so long... he
had expected her to deal with the enemy sooner rather than later.

It was all up to Saint.

'Stay safe...'

His Shadow took a step forward, then unexpectedly kicked her round shield
with terrible force. The battered shield shot from the cracked floor like a
discus, colliding with the Reflection and sending it reeling back.

The graceful stone knight was already lunging at Revel.

Saint ignored the obsidian talons and allowed them to pierce her armor
freely — one dislodged her pauldron and tore open her shoulder, the other
brushed against the side of her helmet, shattering it into pieces.

Her hair fluttered in the wind, and her inhumanly beautiful face was
revealed, expressionless and smeared in ruby dust.

In the next moment, her dark greatsword collided with Revel's blade, threw
it aside, and cleaved into her wing.

Lightslayer's body was protected by leather armor, but her wings were not.
Augmented by the elemental darkness, the black sword practically severed
one of them, forcing Lightslayer to let out a pained groan.

Pure darkness flowed from the severed wing instead of blood.

But Saint was not done... no, she was only beginning.
Not encumbered by the need to defend herself anymore, she had become a
harbinger of death. Even if it was mutually assured destruction, her enemies
were the ones being destroyed first...

Which put them in a difficult situation.

Sunny stirred, starting to understand what Saint was doing.

She slammed the crossguard of her sword into Revel's chest, pushing her
back, then spun to deflect the attack of the Reflection. Their weapons
clashed, producing a shockwave, and Saint traded another wound with the
enemy — she tilted her head to avoid being dealt a fatal blow, and the
obsidian talon sank into her shoulder instead.

Her ruby eyes flashed with cold contempt.

Removing one hand from the hilt of the sword, she grabbed the talon,
trapping it in her stonelike flesh to prevent the wing from retreating, and
drove the tip of the sword through the Reflections's abdomen.

At that moment, Revel attacked from behind.

For a few moments, the three of them were entangled in a bloody struggle,
then disengaged, all bearing terrible wounds.

Saint had been mangled more gruesomely than her enemies, but they had
not escaped unscathed, either.

Sunny felt a sense of bitter rage at how hurt his taciturn Shadow was, but at
the same time...

He wanted to laugh.

Because he had finally understood Saint's intention.

In truth, she wasn't trying to sacrifice herself to kill the enemy — he would
not have allowed her to, anyway. Instead, she was betting her life on the
fact that the enemy would not allow her to do so, either.
Saint was fighting Revel and her Reflection... but Revel was only fighting a
mere servant of the Lord of Shadows. If she let herself be heavily wounded,
or worse yet, killed, the Lord of Shadows would win.

In other words, Saint could pursue the strategy of mutually assured

destruction to defeat the enemy, but Revel could not, because all she would
be destroying was a minion of the enemy, not the enemy himself.

'I-Iow devious! '

Had his noble, prideful Saint picked up a few treacherous tricks after
following him for all these years?

In any case, the battle reached a forced stalemate.

The beautiful demon of darkness, Revel, stared at the battered Shadow with
a grim expression.

After a few moments, she uttered through gritted teeth:

"...Dammit."

Her mesmerizing voice sounded like the song of the lightless abyss, but
Sunny was more interested in the emotion hidden in that one short word.

It was anger.

'What are you going to do now?‘

Sunny wasn't sure what Revel would do...

But he already knew what his next action would be, and had to act fast.

So, he allowed himself to be separated from Saint and quietly flowed down
her arm...

Onto the blade of the Soul Serpent.

1895 Body of Steel

Sunny broke his fusion with Saint and glided onto the blade of the Soul
Serpent, wrapping himself around the blade of the serpentine greatsword.
Robbed of his support, the taciturn knight swayed slightly — however,
considering how severely injured she was, that sudden sign of weakness did
not look out of place. Reven did not notice anything, assuming that the
inhumanly beautiful creature was simply wounded too terribly.

Sunny fused with Serpent, and was dazed for a split second. Being one with
Saint had already been a strange enough feeling — however, becoming a
sword was an entirely alien experience.

Sunny had no blood, no eyes, no limbs. His body was rigid and
uncompromising, forged for a single purpose — to cut, cleave and carve,
severing living beings from the concept of life. Held in the firm hand of his
wielder, he was where he was meant to belong.

His edge was sharp. His purpose was clear.

His resolve was absolute.

...The difference between everything Sunny was familiar with and this
adamant existence was so immense that his mind simply failed to fathom it.
He wasn't even sure what part of him came from Serpent, and what part of
him came from the sword. There were countless nuances he was failing to
comprehend, countless layers of himself he could feel, but not understand.

However, even these few short moments were a revelation.

While augmenting Saint, Sunny had already guessed that fusing with his
Shadows could guide him to the next step of Shadow Dance. But now that
he had become one with Serpent in its Soul Weapon form, he made another
guess.

His shadows could augment Memories, too. So... wouldn't his weaving
undergo a tremendous improvement if he studied the Memories by fusing
with them, as well? Was that the catalyst he had been missing in his quest to
forge a soulbound sword?

These prospects were both fascinating and tantalizing. Sadly, there was no
time to consider them fully...

Because he was still in the middle of a dire battle, and that battle was about
to reach its climax.

The short moment of inaction was coming to an end. Revel and the
Reflection were preparing to move despite their wounds... from what Sunny
could tell, Lightslayer had made up her mind and chosen a solution to the
problem posed by Saint.

She was going to sacrifice the Reflection to destroy the servant of the Lord
of Shadows, and then deal with the master herself.

At least that was what Sunny would have done.

So, he had to prevent that from happening.

He regretted not having teeth... because right now would have been a
perfect time to grit them.

'What would a sword with a set of teeth even look like?‘

The sudden thought brushed against his mind, uninvited.

It was better not to imagine.

'Saint, now!‘

He gave her a mental command.

Before Revel and the Reflection moved, Saint shifted slightly. Her shattered
armor groaned, and ruby dust spilled into the flowing darkness. She raised
both hands above her head, as if preparing to deliver a powerful downward
slash. However, instead of it, the graceful Shadow leaned forward...
And hurled the dark greatsword at Revel with all her Transcendent strength.
It was truly a foolish move, really. Not only could Lightslayer easily dodge
or deflect the makeshift projectile, but Saint was also leaving herself
unarmed and defenseless. A dire mistake in a fight that she was already
losing.

It was just that...

As Revel moved her ssangsudo to swat the dark greatsword to the side,
Sunny gave another command.

Instantly, the sword rippled and changed shape, expanding into a vaguely
human silhouette. That silhouette then swelled, turning into a monstrous
figure as it landed heavily on the wooden floor and lunged at the princess of
Song.

He had ordered Serpent to assume a new form.

Sunny had considered carefully which of the silent shadows dwelling in his
soul he would choose. Initially, his mind turned to the most obvious one —
the Black Knight of the ruined cathedral of the Dark City, his old nemesis.

The Black Knight had been a fearsome and dreadful foe. Best of all, he had
commanded true darkness, possessing several potent abilities tied to it — it
was by slaying the ruthless guardian of the cathedral that Saint evolved for
the first time. Now that they were surrounded by the same element, Serpent
could borrow the affinity to it from the Black Knight's shadow by assuming
the form of the mass of darkness wearing a set of cursed armor.

However, once Sunny contemplated the choice more, he realized that it was
a poor one. The Black Knight had seemed formidable once, true — but he
was merely a Fallen Devil. What had been a deadly foe once was now a
trivial threat to someone like Sunny... and to Revel as well.

Truthfully, none of the forms Serpent could assume could pose a threat to
the princess of Song — at least not anymore.
If they had been the ones to ambush the forces of Song, the shape of the
Terror of L049, Sybil of the Fallen Grace, could have helped Sunny
decimate the enemy. If they had been fighting in a vast open space, the
shape of the Remnant of the Jade Queen could have rained destruction on
the enemies from above.

But now, none of these shapes could contend against Revel. She would
destroy them easily, not wasting any time.

And Sunny desperately needed her to waste it.

So, the shape that Serpent had assumed...

Was that a creature that resembled a towering, monstrous mix between a

human and a wolf. It was tall and covered in thick, wild fur. Its maw was
bared in a bestial snarl, revealing terrifying fangs, and each of its claws was
like a curved sword.

...It was the form of Saint Dire Fang, a fallen retainer of the Great Clan
Song, whom Sunny had killed during the Battle of the Black Skull, and
whose Echo he later lost in the Nightmare Desert.
1896 Divide and Conquer

Serpent pushed himself forward with his powerful legs, while his long arms
stretched toward Revel.

Or rather, toward where Revel had been a moment ago.

In the shape of a sword, Serpent had no way to see, hear, or sense. In the
shape of Dire Fang, it was blinded by the darkness — and so was Sunny.

Of course, they weren't entirely aimless.

One of Dire Fang's Aspect Abilities could tremendously enhance his senses,
after all. They were so sharp that Sunny could hear the smallest of sounds,
discern a myriad of smells, and even feel the vibrations of the floor
intricately enough to pinpoint the movement of his enemies.

So, they had a good chance of reaching Revel.

Sadly, they also had zero chance of defeating her in a brawl. As someone
who had fought Dire Fang, Sunny knew perfectly well what the bestial
body of the savage Saint was capable of — and it fell way short of what
Lightslayer could do.

Worse still, Dire F ang's Awakened Ability, which augmented his physical
might in proportion to the depth of wrath he felt, was all but useless when
used by Serpent. The original Saint had a brutal personality and an eerie
measure of control over his emotions, but Serpent was not very wrathful. In
fact, Sunny did not know if that Shadow of his could even feel anger.

Serpent had not inherited the Transcendent battle art of the dead Saint,
either. In short, they would not be able to rip Revel apart with Dire Fang's
claws.

But they did not need to, luckily. Because their goal was different...

All they had to do was stall the princess of Song long enough to give Saint
a little room to breathe.
And for that purpose, the shape of Dire Fang was perfect.

Revel was strong enough, swift enough, and ruthless enough to kill another
Saint in a moment — especially in the depths of her whirlwind of darkness,
after assuming her Transcendent form. So, Sunny was not going to compete
with her in strength, speed, or skill.

Well, technically, he was not going to make Serpent compete.

Instead, he was going to hit her with a mental attack. Not the mystical kind,
but entirely mundane — which did not make it any less impactful.

The fact of the matter was that even someone as powerful as Revel would
be momentarily stunned if a person who had died years ago suddenly
appeared in front of them. Especially if that person was someone they
knew, and knew well... like a loyal retainer who had served their clan for
decades.

And just as Sunny expected, he heard a shaken whisper in the darkness —

almost inaudible if not for the incredible hearing of Serpent's current form.
"...Fang?"

Revel might have only lingered for a moment, but that moment was all that
Sunny and Serpent needed.

Before their bestial body could be pierced by the deadly obsidian talon or
cut down by the sharp blade, they reached the enemy.

Fighting Revel while blind was not something that Serpent could do. But
wrestling her at close distance? That was much easier to achieve.

Sunny felt his powerful arms wrap around the body of the beautiful
demoness, his claws sinking into her leather armor and piercing her skin.
Then, Dire Fang's massive body collided with her, sending them both
crashing to the ground. Serpent opened its maw and bit down blindly,
aiming for Revel‘s throat. However, before its sharp fangs could rip it open,
two powerful hands caught its jaws like a vice, preventing them from
closing.
For a moment, the two of them were entangled on the floor. Lightslayer was
much stronger, but Serpent managed to hold on... for now.

Sunny wasn‘t sure how much longer it would be able to resist, though.

He wasn't sure that Lightslayer's obsidian talon would not pierce his
Shadow a split second later, either. Her remaining wing seemed to be
trapped under her body, but the situation could change swiftly.

Serpent was trying to tear open Revel's heart, while Revel was calmly
ripping off its lower jaw. Sunny felt harrowing pain, and sensed hot blood
flowing down his neck.

Behind them, meanwhile...

The moment Saint let go of the dark sword, she ignored her debilitating
wounds and dashed toward the Reflection.

The creature hesitated for a short moment, surprised by the sudden

appearance of the bestial monster and its immediate lunge at Revel — the
Reflection was a mere Beast, after all, and although the intelligence of these
creatures followed a different set of laws than that of Nightmare Creatures,
it did not seem as smart as a human, or as the original Mirror Beast had
been.

The situation would have been even more desperate if the Reflection was a
Demon... or worse yet, a Devil. Then, it would not have been limited to
mirroring Revel herself — instead, it could have mirrored Saint, or even
Fiend.

In any case, it missed the chance to intercept the graceful stone knight in
time. A moment later, Saint attacked it in cold silence. She had not tried to
manifest a sword of darkness once again, since that would have taken more
time than she had — instead, she simply used the onyx spikes protruding
from the knuckles of her armored gauntlets.

Her first blow shattered the damaged blade of the Reflection.

Saint did not need a sword to kill an enemy — after all, she was a master of
all weapons, and that included her own body. She was the one who had
taught Fiend hand-to—hand combat, and the student did not surpass the
master yet. The Reflection finally reacted, moving its wings to finish off the
living statue with its obsidian talons. But Saint had fought this demonic
form for long enough to learn its strengths and weaknesses — she closed in,
coming almost face-to-face with the beautiful creature.

Revel's wings were utterly deadly, but their structure dictated a certain
effective range — once someone was too close to the princess of Valor,
hiding behind her body, the lethal talons could not reach them anymore.

While Serpent and the true Lightslayer were crashing into the ground, Saint
dodged the Reflections claws, calmly caught its second hand between her
right arm and her body...

And then sent her left hand flying forward.

Her aim was the creature's abdomen, which she had pierced with her sword
before.

There, the armor was broken. The skin of the Reflection was cut, as well,
and so were the adamantine muscles beneath.

Saint looked up at the stolen face of the Supreme Beast with cold
indifference. The crimson flames burning in her eyes flashed menacingly,
turning deeper and darker.

In the next moment, her armored gauntlet penetrated the terrible wound.
Awash in blood and flowing darkness, she mercilessly thrust her arm deep
into the body of the creature, bending it at the elbow to reach into its
ribcage.

Her armored fist closed on what should have been the Reflection's heart.

In the next moment, there was a quiet, melodious sound...

As if an immense pane of glass was shattering somewhere close, but also
far away.
1897 Above and Below

The top floors of the ancient castle had been destroyed, torn apart by the
devastating explosion. The floors below were an inferno of raging flames
and billowing smoke. Scorching heat permeated the suffocating darkness,
and burning walls were crumbling as they fell down, into the surging waters
of the distant lake.

In that hell, someone coughed hoarsely, and a pile of debris suddenly

moved. A delicate woman threw aside a smoldering support beam that
weighed several tons and slowly rose to her feet, her beautiful face smeared
with ash.

At almost the same time, another figure rose from the floor, looking around
with cold intensity. It was a young woman with silver hair, wearing a
severely damaged suit of lustrous armor. In one hand, she was holding a
silver sword. In the other, a broken black torch was dissolving into a
whirlwind of white sparks.

Neph's ivory skin was just as pristine as it had been before. Moonveil's
body, however, was covered in gruesome burns. She let out a pained hiss
and staggered slightly, looking at Nephis with a tortured grimace.

Eventually, her lips parted.

"...You are a Shaper."

Moonveil's voice was full of barely contained shock. It was commendable

that she knew about Shaping and managed to recognize it — after all, there
were no true practitioners of that extinct sorcery left in modern day... at
least none that Nephis knew of, apart from herself.

She took a step in Moonveil's direction, preparing to lunge into an all—out

attack. "Barely."

Time was short.

Nephis had indeed invoked the True Name of Fire and woven it into a
simple Phrase to cause the powerful explosion. Her own Aspect was
suppressed, so she had used the black torch as the source flame.

The result had exceeded her expectations, but it was not nearly enough to
win the battle.

Nephis had escaped the explosion mostly unscathed, since she was all but
immune to all kinds of fire except for her own. The Reflections would be
relatively fine, as well — they were far too powerful to be destroyed by a
mere conflagration. So, she had only a few precious moments to deal with
Moonveil. Moonveil, meanwhile, had suffered the most damage.

Not only because she was a mere Transcendent Beast, but also because
Nephis was still burning her essence to channel the True Name of
Destruction. Invoking it demanded a lot from the Shaper, but it was worth it
for a killer like her. Calling upon Destruction did not summon a bolt of
lightning from the heavens to smite her enemies, and it did not crush them
like a shockwave, either.

Instead, the result of invoking that True N amc was insidious and subtle.
Nephis had not been falsely modest when she answered Moonveil's
question — her mastery of Shaping was indeed rudimentary and devoid of
nuance. She had fathomed a fair deal of Names thanks to Ananke's lessons
and her Aspect Legacy, but the ways she could channel them were crude,
and her Phrases were primitive.

Still, even on her lips, the True Name of Destruction was a fearsome
instrument. If she simply channeled it without much guidance, her attacks
would become more destructive than they were supposed to be. If she
connected it to an enemy's name — and more so their True Name —then
the enemy would become cursed, as if a mystical hex had been placed on
them.

Every cut they received would be deeper, and every blow they endured
would bruise more. That was why Moonveil had suffered the most from the
explosion. It was as if the world itself was being reshaped to destroy her.
Such was the power of Shaping — the power to bend the world to one's
will. Perhaps it was because Nephis had been stripped of her Aspect,
becoming powerless for the first time in many years, that she saw Shaping
from a new perspective in that moment.

‘Will…’

As Nephis attacked, a sudden thought surfaced in her mind. Wasn't that the
essence of Supremacy, to force one's will upon the world? She was
commanding the flames, and she had placed the spell of destruction on
Moonveil. Both of those things were bending the world to fit her desires. Of
course, she was not achieving that with her own will — instead, she was
using the Sorcery of Names as its conduit.

But was there maybe a hint to the path she had to tread in order to attain
Supremacy in the miraculous power of Shaping?

Before Neph's sword could even reach Moonveil, there was a booming
crash, and one of the Reflections tore through a burning wall, its saber
slicing the adamantine wood like paper.

Nephis had lost her torch, but they were surrounded by fire now. She was
still channeling its True Name, so she exerted her will and made the
scorching flames swell and descend upon the creature, barring its path.

Trying to defeat Moonveil and two Supreme Beasts was not a safe bet. So,
Nephis had chosen the most promising strategy — to disregard the
Reflections and aim to eliminate the weakest link, the princess of Song, at
all costs.

Still, be wasted a moment of concentration to stall the first Reflection.

Moonveil used that split second to brandish her blade.

She was quite a skilled swordsman herself.

Sharp steel bit deeply into Neph's side through the breach in her mangled
armor, and scarlet blood flowed like a stream...
A normal human would have been stunned by pain after receiving such a
gruesome wound. Even a trained, seasoned warrior would have reacted,
trying to save themselves or reeling back. At the very least, they would have
flinched.

But Nephis did not react at all, as if pain did not matter to her. As if being
cut by a sharp blade was nothing.

More than that, she indifferently turned her body just a moment before the
saber slashed her flesh — not to avoid it, but to make sure that it struck her
ribs instead of plunging into her soft abdomen.

Because of that, her sword left a bloody mark on Moonveil's body, forcing
the princess of Song to jump back.

Not paying any attention to the bloody wound on her side, Nephis
continued her assault. Her face was impassive, and her eyes were calm like
two deep lakes. Inside, however, she was a little regretful.

Because she would not be able to enjoy liberation from pain anymore. Even
if being cut by a sharp blade was a mild and meager torment, this wound
was only one of many she would have to receive in order to win.

As flames spread and Nephis clashed with Moonveil, eerily indifferent to

the excruciating agony and the harm being done to her body, the princess of
Song seemed more and more disturbed.

Eventually, she asked, a curious smile twisting her pale lips:

"Changing Star... what kind of monster are you?"

Nephis brought her sword down and said in her usual, even tone:

"Monster?"

Her sword whistled as it flashed in the air, missing Moonveil's neck by a

mere millimeter.

She turned her slash into a perilous thrust in one flawless, flowing motion.
"I don't remember. I haven't been a Monster in a long, long time..."

****

Far below, on the shore of the dark lake, Saint Rivalen of Aegis Rose let out
a pained cry and rolled down the stone stairs, leaving a bloody trail in his
wake. His Transcendent form had long crumbled, and he was a mere human
once again.

One of his eyes was missing, and his golden armor was breached in half a
dozen places. Falling into the water, he let out a stifled groan and struggled
to stand up.

His enemies did not seem to be in a hurry to finish him off, and yet... his
death was inevitable.

"Curses..."

Sir Rivalen swayed and fell to his knees, his blood mixing with the restless
water. He looked up with a stalwart expression.

A giant beast that looked like a graceful panther was slowly descending the
stone steps. Worse still...

Two human figures were walking in front of it, each bearing terrible
wounds. They were the corpses of two paladins of Valor that the daughter of
Ki Song had already killed, brought back to a perverse semblance of life by
the villainous queen. His former peers, comrades, and companions.

Sir Rivalen gritted his teeth, knowing that there was no escape.

He wasn't really afraid of death, as long as it was for a noble cause.

However... becoming one of these things, being used to harm his fellow
knights...

It seemed too vile.

He looked down, at his bloodied reflection in the water, and whispered

quietly: "...I'll have to make sure that my body is entirely destroyed, then."
His voice was weak, but full of resolve.

The enemies were drawing near...

Before Saint Rivalen could do anything, though, he felt the water grow
strangely warm around him... searing, even.

Then, it suddenly seethed and surged.

A moment later, a dreadful monster rose from the lake right behind him.

It was a great fiend forged of black metal, with four long arms and infernal
flames burning in his malevolent eyes. Rivers of water streamed from his
polished, spiked carapace, hissing as they evaporated and turned into clouds
of steam.

Towering above the kneeling Rivalen, the fiend looked down at Silent
Stalker and the two Transcendent corpses.

Then, he opened his terrible maw and spat a mouthful of glass shards into
the lake.

Saint Rivalen was momentarily befuddled.

'What?‘

Why did it seem as though the harrowing creature had a disgruntled

expression on its ferocious face?

...And why did it seem as if it had been chewing on glass?

1898 Chewing on Glass

Inside the ancient Citadel, a terrifying battle was drawing close to a grim
conclusion. The interior of the great hall was devastated, and although
smoke had not reached here yet, the dark expanse was permeated by
sweltering heat. The shattered floor was awash in blood.

The battle had not gone well for the Saints of the Sword Army. Most of
them were already dead — only four remained, each struggling to stay
alive.

Saint Roan was battered and bloodied, his white mane painted red. His
lightning had been extinguished, and although his enchanted armor — a gift
from his daughter to celebrate his Transcendence — had served him well, it
was now a shredded mess of torn metal, a blow or two away from
crumbling into a river of ethereal sparks.

Sir Jest was surrounded from all sides. His Transcendent form was that of

a demonic abomination with goat—like horns and malevolent eyes, his gaze
overflowing with terrifying malice. He had fared well against the Saint of
Sorrow, dealing grievous wounds to his stone opponent, but as his fellow
champions of Valor fell one after another, the situation changed for the
worse. Saint Helie was severely injured, as well. Her sides were wet with
blood, torn apart by terrible claws. Her beautiful face was pale from pain
and fatigue, and her powerful bow had long been destroyed. Even her shield
was on the verge of breaking apart, while her spear already had several
cracks on its long blade. The fourth surviving Saint was slumped on the
wide back of the Transcendent form, barely conscious from losing too much
blood. He was the one who had been struck by Silent Stalker's arrow in the
ambush — ironically enough, others were dead, but he still clung to life.
Despite that, he was of not much use in the battle.

Their enemies, meanwhile...

Two dreadful great wolves were circling Roan, preparing to finish him off
— they were Lonesome Howl and one of her Reflections, both in much
better shape than the winged lion.

The second Reflection was pursuing Helie, barely kept back by her spear
and shield.

The corpse of the Great Terror had been destroyed, and so were two of the
risen Saints. However, three more had been taken by the Queen of Song —
now, they surrounded Sir Jest, attacking him to assist the Saint of Sorrow.

The situation was bleak, and none of the Saints of Swords saw a way out.
Even Sir Iest did not seem that amused anymore.

His malevolent eyes narrowed, and a deep, inhuman voice resounded in the
devastated hall, sending a chill running down the spine of the Saint of
Sorrow: "How troublesome... how frustrating. At this rate, I won't get to see
if your intestines are also made of stone..."

His monstrous mouth twisted into a snarl.

Sir Iest threw one of the living corpses aside and lunged at the stone
gargoyle, ignoring dead hands tearing at his flesh.

At that moment, however, the great wolf that had been pursuing Helie
suddenly spun and leaped at the monstrous satyr, its maw opening to tear
the sinister Saint apart.

Saint Helie swayed and staggered, on the verge of succumbing to her

wounds. Lonesome Howl was already lowering her graceful body to the
ground, snarling as she prepared to lunge and sink her fangs into Saint
Roan's throat.

Then, however...

There was an eerie sound, and every living being in the ruined hall lingered
for a moment, turning their attention to the dark portal of the shattered
castle gates. Nothing happened for a split second, and then, a massive
silhouette flew from the darkness, crashing into the floor with a pitiful
groan.
It was an enormous black panther, her sable fur torn apart and soaked in
blood — she was still alive, but just barely.

Lonesome Howl froze for a split second.

And in that split second, an infernal figure of twisted black metal silently
appeared from the shadows in the middle of the hall.

Fiend did not waste any time before plunging the already chaotic battle into
a state of absolute carnage. His four hands moved at the same time — the
lower pair slashed at two Transcendent corpses, instantly reducing them to
two piles of bleeding meat, while the upper pair reached forward and
grabbed the head of the longing Reflection.

His dagger-like claws seared the thick for and easily pierced the wolf's
skull. A moment later, he squished the Supreme Beast's head like a rotten
pumpkin and tore it apart.

...Having learned a bitter lesson, Fiend did not try to take a bite out of the
deceitfully appetizing Reflection.

That was not meat! Instead, it was tasteless glass.

With his arrival, the flow of the battle instantly changed.

****

Somewhere above, Saint grasped the heart of Revel's Reflection and

crushed it in her armored fist.

There was a sound akin to a mirror being broken, and the dark creature
froze, the light of life slowly disappearing from its beautiful eyes. Then, a
strange ripple spread across its body, and a net of thin cracks revealed itself
on its alabaster skin.

A moment later, the Reflection shattered into a rain of silver glass. The
glass shards scattered on the floor and then dissolved into a stream of light,
which was then devoured by the flowing darkness.
Saint lowered her hand tiredly.

Sunny only knew what had happened after hearing the faint sounds of
breaking glass. Fused with Serpent, he was in the middle of a fierce brawl
against the true Revel — both the beautiful demon of darkness and the
bestial monster Serpent had turned into were on the floor, their bodies
entangled, trying to rip each other to shreds.

Lightslayer was winning.

There was a disgusting crunch, and a wave of blinding pain sent Sunny into
a daze. Dire Fang‘s lower jaw was now almost torn off, hanging askew on
several shreds of: mangled flesh, a torrent of blood pouring down on
Revel's arms and chest

Serpent shuddered and reeled back, involuntarily weakening its grasp on

her body. That gave Lightslayer enough room to push the massive creature
away and pull her leg up, placing it between its body and hers.

Then, with a powerful kick, she sent the monstrous body of Dire Fang
flying back.

Still disoriented, Serpent crashed down a dozen meters away, making the
floor quake from the force of the impact.

'Ah...'

Sunny pushed down the excruciating pain and tried to access the situation...
which wasn't easy to do, considering that he was still blind.

Saint had to have destroyed the Reflection. So...

What was happening now?

1899 Mirrored Darkness

Sunny knew what was supposed to happen.

In fact, it was very simple — the answer was nothing.

Mordret's Reflections were strange creatures, after all. They were neither
dead nor alive, neither divine nor profane. A long time ago, when he killed
the Mirror Beast on Reckoning Island, the Spell had announced the kill, but
did not whisper anything about his shadow growing stronger.

Sunny was banished from the Nightmare Spell now, but the result would be
the same. Killing Reflections did not grant him fragments, and no shadow
would appear in the silent stillness of his soul.

Therefore, Saint was unlikely to receive any reward for slaying the
Supreme Reflection, either. Even its darkness was merely a reflection of
Revel's own — now that the living mirror was gone and there was nothing
left to reflect it, the false darkness would most likely disappear, as well.

...Which was a real shame. Sunny really felt that Saint deserved to receive a
boon after fighting a battle as dreadful as this one had been — especially
considering that she had forged her path to Transcendence by taking the
essence of Nightmare Creatures wielding powers over true darkness.

Sunny had never been clear on how exactly Saint was able to increase her
Class. He did not know how to help her reach a new Rank without the
assistance of the Spell, either. So, he had hoped that defeating a being of
true darkness, even if it was a Reflection, would grant her some kind of
reward.

But it was not meant to be...

Or so he thought.

Even though Sunny could not see anything, he still felt a sudden shift in the
atmosphere of the ancient castle.
If he could see, though, he would have witnessed the dark splendor of what
was happening around him and Serpent.

Saint stood motionlessly, her unshaken hand still making a fist. Glass sand
slowly poured from between her fingers, and at the same time, the fluid
darkness around her stirred.

It flowed like a vast whirlpool around the graceful stone knight, whose ruby
eyes continued to burn with cold crimson flames in the surging darkness.
The ethereal vortex spun faster and faster, pulling more strands of darkness
into its silent torrent.

Some distance away, Revel was rising to her feet. Sensing something, she
threw a sharp gaze at Saint.

Saint met that gaze calmly, no emotion betraying itself on her inhumanly
beautiful, flawless onyx face.

At that moment, the torrent of darkness came alive, and poured into her
body. The darkness entered her chest like a raging flood and was absorbed
into her fiery heart.

But that was not all.

Suddenly, Sunny felt a hint of a faintly familiar, terrifying chill.

If he could see, he would have seen the mirrored darkness start to change in
the absence of the slain Reflection. Some of it dissolved into wisps of an
eerie, chilling white mist...

He knew that mist all too well.

However, Saint was unmoved. Still staring at Revel silently, she remained
motionless... and eagerly absorbed the wisps of the white mist, as well.

All of it happened in the span of several heartbeats, and by the end of it, the
sphere of true darkness enveloping the hall of the ancient Citadel had
shrunk a bit.
It still drowned their surroundings, though, trapping Sunny in its cold
embrace. Revel smiled coldly.

"...So full of surprises."

As she rose to her feet and looked around in search of her sword, a cold
voice suddenly responded from the darkness:

"Don‘t be shocked just yet."

The voice belonged to Sunny, who had separated himself from Serpent and
manifested his avatar into a corporeal form once again.

Without the enhanced perception of Dire Fang's Aspect, he suddenly felt

deaf and lost. The true darkness enveloped everything around him, making
him blind. It was an uncomfortable position to be in.

But it had to be done.

Serpent was more fragile than Saint and Fiend — it had already received
plenty of gruesome wounds, so Sunny silently dismissed the bleeding
Shadow.

Saint, meanwhile, was mangled even more terribly. He would have recalled
her into the nurturing haven of his lightless soul... however, it was not time
yet. Instead, Sunny spent more of his essence to take control of another
incarnation —- one of the three shadows that had remained fused with the
graceful stone knight, augmenting her battered body.

Instantly, he had returned to the previous state of unity with his taciturn
Shadow. He could see the ruined hall through her eyes... including his own
back, which stood between her and Revel.

He could also feel how weak and broken her body was. The flowing
darkness caressed it softly, helping the terrible wounds heal — but they
weren't healing fast enough, and the damage was too dire.

Saint was in no condition to continue the fight.

There was something else, as well...

Something about her had changed, but he couldn't quite tell what it was.

It wasn't an evolution to a higher Rank, and it wasn‘t an evolution to a great

Class, either.

However, there was definitely a deep, unfamiliar power taking root both in
her body and in her soul — or rather, in the vast shadow that served as her
soul. For now, it did not matter. Saint's inability to support him in the battle
against Revel did not matter, either — now that the princess of Song was
without support, Sunny was confident enough to face her alone.

Especially because he wasn't blind anymore.

Of course, seeing himself from Saint's perspective was a bit strange, as if he

was observing himself in the third person. Being robbed of shadow sense
left Sunny feeling dazed, too.

But he was nothing if not supremely adaptable. Even in this weird state, he
could still fight... and win.

Defeat was not an option, and honestly enough, he had quite a burning
desire to make Revel pay for hurting his Shadows.

Smiling viciously behind the mask, Sunny looked up at her.

'Now...‘

First of all, he had to prevent her from reaching her sword. Serpent was
gone, after all, and there were no shadows around to manifest into a weapon
— so, Sunny was unarmed.

If Revel did manage to pick up her sword, or lived long enough to dismiss it
and summon it back, things could become... problematic.

Commanding Saint to retreat, Sunny clenched his fists and dashed forward.
1900 Vanquishing Light

Amidst the flames consuming what remained of the pinnacle of the garden
temple, Nephis was fighting against Moonveil and her two Reflections.
Countless wounds were littering her body, and she felt a strange, nearly
forgotten feeling of growing weak from losing too much blood.

Transcendent bodies were tough, but they weren't indestructible. She had
accounted for her miraculous physique when calculating how much
punishment her body could take without sacrificing too much of its
functionality... and that limit was approaching swiftly.

Nevertheless, her expression was calm, and her movements were just as
fluid and unrestrained as they had been before. Her hands never wavered on
the hilt of her sword.

The battle was ruthless and unrelenting. Triumph and defeat were separated
only by a thin, brittle line.

Monnveil was strong... but Nephis was stronger. Moonveil wielded her
saber as if it was an extension of her body, her skill both beautiful and
polished to a state of near perfection... but Nephis was a much better
swordsman, and had a much deeper command over the cadence of battle.

Even without her Aspect, she could have defeated the proud princess of
Song. But precisely for that reason, there were two Supreme Reflections
aiding Moonveil... and dealing with them was much harder.

Someone had evaluated the strength of: the Sword Domain champions very
well. Nephis was using Shaping to control the surrounding flames and keep
the Reflections at bay. Sometimes, she managed to slow them down, and
sometimes, she failed. When facing two or more enemies at the same time,
she followed her perilous strategy — to disregard everything in pursuit of
killing Moonveil, even if it meant sacrificing her blood and bone.

As a result, the beautiful princess was forced to defend herself without

having a chance to launch a counterattack Her Reflections, however, made
up for that with a vengeance.

'Ah. It hurts...'

Both Nephis and Moonveil were bloodied... however, Nephis was bleeding
more. Her wounds were more dire, and more plentiful. It was already
starting to become a detriment to her strength and mobility — not because
she was paralyzed by pain, but simply because her muscles were cut, her
tendons were damaged, and her bones were cracked.

She had managed to avoid receiving truly debilitating damage, but the harm
done by countless small wounds was slowly mounting.

Moonveil could see that, as well.

Therefore... she grew a little more confident.

Nephis would have smiled if it didn't seem like a lot of effort.

'Got her.‘

She remembered being a fairly straightforward person, a long time ago. But
somehow, over the years — she couldn't quite remember how — Nephis
had come to value deceit and misdirection, even if it was not something she
was naturally good at.

She must have learned how to use lies to her advantage by quietly
observing people around her. If so, she had been blessed with good
teachers.

Shifting her weight from one leg to another, as if preparing to launch a new
strike, Nephis grimaced and swayed. It looked like her right leg, which had
been cut gruesomely by one of the Reflections before, finally betrayed her.

The Reflection itself was a dozen meters away, pushed back by a torrent of
flame. The other was just behind Nephis, since she had just evaded its
attack and sidestepped the creature.

It would take it a little time to spin around and renew its assault.
So, the only one who could use her momentary loss of balance was
Moonveil herself.

Strangely enough, Nephis was a good actress. Her act was subtle, but
convincing. The grimace she had made was just small enough to look
involuntary. The nature of her misstep was reasonable and believable, since
her right leg was indeed damaged quite severely. Her eyes even widened
slightly, selling the moment of realization more.

If Moonveil hesitated, she did not show it.

Instead, she decisively lunged into a swift attack, her white hair fluttering in
the wind.

Neph's gaze instantly turned cold and heavy.

'...Too honest.‘

Who would have thought that the fearsome princess of Song would be a
little naive?

Abandoning all pretense of weakness, she righted her stance and sent her
longsword into a simple thrust.

Her attack was simple and unadorned... however, that did not make it any
less deadly.

Because, even when two Transcendent champions fought, the fundamentals

of combat still played a significant role in the outcome of the battle.

Speed, mass, force. Time, movement, and space.

In this instance, the fundamental principle that doomed Moonveil was

rather obvious, something the importance of which most humans of the
walking world learned as children.

It was the simple fact that Neph‘s sword was longer than her elegant saber.

And therefore...
Before Moonveil could behead Nephis with a decisive slash, the Kinslayer
pierced her chest, penetrated her heart, snapped her spine, and exited from
her back. Blood spilled on the floor. The saber clattered as it fell.

The delicate woman stared at Nephis in disbelief, her beautiful eyes

widening in horror.

'I won.‘

Nephs had achieved her goal... however, she did not feel any joy or elation.
All she felt was regret.

Because humanity had lost a powerful Saint — one of many that would die
in this appalling, senseless war.

It was such a waste.

But then again, the battle wasn't over yet. She had no time to...

Pushing her mangled body as hard as she could, Nephis reeled back to
avoid the Reflection's saber.

The creature moved past her, the sharp blade whistling past her neck. In the
next moment, a small hand struck her in the chest, sending Nephis flying
back — she hit the floor a couple dozen meters away and rolled awkwardly,
her vision blurring momentarily from the terrible surge of pain.

By the time she staggered back to her feet, both Reflections were near
Moonveil. One was holding her in its arms, while the other was standing
between them and Nephis.

She pushed some air into her burning lungs.

'Now... what happens next depends on the nature of Moonveil's Aspect.‘

Either the geas placed on her would disappear with Moonveil‘s death,
unsealing her Aspect... or it would not.
If it was the former, she would be able to deal with the Reflections quite
easily. If it was the latter... things would turn really ugly.

However, in the next second, something unexpected happened... something

Nephis had not anticipated, even though she should have.

Moonveil was dying, but her eyes regained their sharpness for a split
second, piercing Nephis with a heavy gaze.

And then...

Nephis felt the seal binding her Aspect suddenly fall apart. Moonveil had
released it.

At the same time, the Reflection holding the princess of Song in its hands
shimmered slightly. And changed, assuming a new form.

Silver hair, fair skin, and calm grey eyes.

A face that could have been beautiful if it was expressive and lively instead
of being cold and motionless like a lifeless mask.

A lithe and slender body.

It was her own face, and her own body.

The Reflection had mirrored Nephis.

She belatedly understood her mistake.

A moment later, a soft radiance enveloped the hands of the Reflection,

pouring into Moonveil's body.

And Moonveil‘s terrible wounds miraculously healed.

...Nephis stared at her from a distance, feeling dismayed.

'What a cheat.‘
The princess of Song was as good as new.

...Of course, now that Nephis had been given back her Aspect, her wounds
were also healing, and a raging flame was rising in her soul.

For a moment, nobody moved. Moonveil was panting heavily, looking at

Nephis with a hint of wariness.

Nephis, meanwhile...

Smiled a little.

'On the other hand... that works, as well.‘

Moonveil and her two Reflections wore somber expressions as they readied
themselves to continue the battle — which would grow infinitely more
devastating and terrible now, without a doubt.

But Nephis was about to surprise them, as well.

She unleashed the suppressed power of her Aspect, assuming the

incinerating form of the radiant spirit. At the same time, she called upon the
sea of flames surrounding them, wrapping it around herself like a mantle.

However, she did not direct all that fiery power at her enemies.

...Instead, she aimed it at the wooden floor beneath her feet.

Surrounded by blinding light and a raging tide of immolating fire, Nephis

fled from the battle and rushed down, piercing one level of the ancient
Citadel after another like a falling star. Countless layers of mystical wood
parted in front of her, crumbling into ash, as she burned a scorching path
into the depths of the castle.

Lower and lower...

And lower still.

Until she plunged into a sea of impenetrable darkness, vanquishing it with
her light.
1901 Falling Sun

Sunny was in the throes of the familiar state of merciless clarity. He was
fighting Revel in the ruins of the dark hall, pushing his body and mind to
the absolute limits, each breath searing his lungs like acid.

The devastating fury of their clash made the world quake. Everything
around them was enveloped by flowing darkness and suffocating smoke,
the air suffused with sweltering heat.

Neither Sunny nor Revel were armed, using nothing but their bodies to
destroy each other. The rolling echoes of their crushing blows were like
deafening thunderclaps, and both moved at a speed far greater than what a
mundane human would have been able to perceive.

The battle was fierce, fearsome, and chillingly ruthless. Its frenetic pace
was daunting. Its violent brutality was appalling...

Sunny was having a tough time.

Devoid of the ability to call upon his Aspect, he could only rely on his
physical might and combat technique to fight Revel. The problem, however,
was that her Transcendent form was more than twice his height, with much
longer arms and legs, which gave her a tremendous advantage in reach...
and that was not even counting her one remaining wing.

Sunny's disadvantage was only confounded by the fact that he was

witnessing the battle through Saint's eyes, not his own. He was more used
to seeing himself from the third perspective than most people due to long
years of perceiving the world through the shadows, but it was still a
disorienting experience to fight while only relying on someone else's sight.

Revel had figured out that he was somehow relying on Saint to guide him
almost instantly and made several attempts to destroy the wounded Shadow.
Sunny managed to block her from reaching Saint, but she methodically
attacked him from positions where his own body blocked the living statue‘s
view.
Worst of all, Lightslayer could still use her Aspect freely, which she did
with great foresight and skill. At any moment, the beautiful demon could
turn into a torrent of flowing darkness to escape, advance, circle around
Sunny, or simply bypass his attack.

It was infuriating, reminding Sunny of the battle he had fought against

Fiend in Falcon Scott. It felt as if he was fighting himself... which was not a
pleasant feeling at all. Now that he was suffering at the hands of an enemy
who possessed such an Ability, he learned painfully well just how much of
a cheat his Shadow Step was.

He could not do anything against her Aspect Ability, but he could somewhat
negate her advantage in size by manipulating his weight with the [Feather
of Truth]. Sunny might have been smaller, but his mass was even greater
than that of the towering demoness — as a result, his blows were especially
devastating, and it was harder for her to throw him off balance.

His armor was shattered, and his body was hurting.

And yet...

So was hers.

Sunny was holding his ground while surrounded by true darkness, trading
blow for blow with its Saint.

It was just that damned wing...

As Sunny blocked Revel's clawed hand, the obsidian talon stung his side,
where the surface of the Onyx Mantle was already cracked. Feeling a pulse
of sharp pain, he hissed and tried to grab the retreating wing — only to be
sent stumbling back by a devastating kick

A thin crack crossed the surface of his mask.

Worse still, Revel was already turning into a torrent of darkness, rushing
toward Saint...

'Damn it!‘
Sunny ignored the pain and dashed forward to intercept her.

But at that moment...

He felt the entire Citadel shudder, and a thunderous boom resounded from
far above, followed by another a moment later... and then another, and then
another, almost without pause.

It was as if something was tearing through the ancient castle, travelling

toward the ground at terrible speed.

Then, the heat permeating the air seemed to grow ten times more intense,
and Sunny was confused for a moment.

'What is that?‘

For a split second, he failed to recognize what was happening.

Then, he realized that he... he was actually seeing something with his own
eyes. Something was glowing in the darkness, high above him.

The ceiling of the vast hall had long collapsed, and even higher still, several
orange spots seemed to have revealed themselves on the ceiling of the
higher floor of the ancient castle, expanding as they grew.

Suddenly able to see again, Sunny froze for a short moment.

...In that short moment, the burning ceiling exploded with a deafening roar,
and a blinding radiance blinded him all over again. it was as if the sun had
risen in the middle of the Citadel — or rather, fell down from the sky.

Surrounded by a sea of flames, an incandescent being plummeted from the

burning inferno above, crashing into the floor between Sunny and Revel
and instantly setting it on fire.

Covering his eyes, he staggered back.

Revel's darkness was vanquished, and he could finally sense the shadows
again. There was a white silhouette standing in the middle of the raging
conflagration, so beautiful and pure that it seemed out of place in this dirty
and imperfect world.

Sunny's lips twisted into a smile behind his cracked mask.

'Nephis...‘

Nephis had arrived from whatever battle she had been fighting, practically
bringing the entire Citadel down with her.

From the brief glimpse Sunny had got, it seemed as if every floor of the
ancient castle above them was at least partially destroyed and set aflame.
That certainly explained the smoke and the unbearable heat...

The radiant spirit of light slowly looked around, taking in the sight of the
devastated hall. The broke walls, the hideous wounds littering Saint‘s body,
Sunny's breached armor...

Finally, her gaze settled on the bloodied, but still breathtakingly beautiful
figure of the creature of darkness staring at her with a grim expression.

Revel looked at Nephis, and then smiled coldly.

Her lips parted, and a single word escaped from her lips:

"...Crap."
1902 Gruesome Affair

Revel's darkness was chased away and diminished, but it still swirled
around her like a cloud. Shrouded by it, she looked at Nephis.

Nephis was looking at her, as well.

Suddenly, a melodious voice resounded in the ruined hall, containing both

the ferocity of the scorching surface of the sun and the tranquillity of
sunshine reflecting from clear water:

"...You are the Lightslayer?"

Revel remained silent for a heartbeat.

Her battered, bleeding body looked like a dirty mess in front of the pristine,
radiant spirit of light.

"That's what they call me, yes."

Nephis remained silent for a few moments, then spoke in her usual even
tone: "I'm not impressed."

Her tone might have been emotionless, but that only made the remark sound
more derisive.

It was as if she was saying... is that all? I am supposed to be slain by you?

Hearing that, Revel smiled darkly.

"I‘m sorry for the disappointment, Lady Nephis."

With that, the ruined hall once again exploded with motion... the moment of
peace was short—lived.

The scorching flames fell upon the princess of Song, as if possessing a life
of their own. The radiance spirit seemed to turn into a streak of light,
rushing at her with impossible speed.
Sunny was not far behind, either, knowing that this was their best chance to
kill Revel.

Revel herself, meanwhile...

Took a step back and turned into a torrent of darkness.

The darkness did not attack, however. It did not try to defend itself, either
— 7 instead, it flowed down and seeped into the cracked floorboards,
disappearing from view.

The flames only licked the ancient wood, scorching it. Neph's strike missed.
Sunny emerged from the shadows a split second too late.

Revel had fled.

For a moment, he was face to face with Nephis, feeling her heat despite the
incredible level of elemental resistance granted to him by the Onyx Mantle.

He was silent for a moment.

"...Are you okay?"

The spirit of light nodded, her graceful figure drowning in the blinding
radiance.

"What about you?"

Sunny grinned behind the mask

"I am alive, if that is what you mean."

With that, there was no time for conversations anymore. Because they both
knew what Revel's retreat meant — she had fled downward, in the direction
where the rest of their comrades were most likely fighting for their lives.

"Go! Destroy the corpse of the 'l‘error at all costs!"

Sunny threw a brief glance at Saint, commanding her to stay safe, and
stepped through the shadows once more.

A moment later, he emerged in the chaos of the vast hall where the Saints of
the Sword Army had been ambushed by the daughters of Ki Song.

Just one look was enough to erase the smile from his face, replacing it with
a somber expression.

'So many have died...‘

The casualties suffered by the Sword Domain were appalling. He could

only see four members of the conquest team still drawing breath — Roan, l-
lelie, Jest, and the unfortunate Saint who had been wounded by Silent
Stalker at the start of the sight.

Rivalen was nowhere to be seen, and the rest of the Saints were now
corpses — some of them damaged too terribly to be of use for the Raven
Queen, some still moving.

Silent Stalker was a bloody mess, barely clinging to life. Lonesome Howl
and her one remaining Reflection were engaged in a fierce brawl with
Fiend, protecting her fragile human body from him.

The corpse of the Great Terror, at least, seemed to have already been
destroyed. Sunny did not know why Nephis had asked him to make getting
rid of it a priority, but he was glad to know that the abominable creature did
not pose any threat anymore.

Revel had just coalesced from the flowing darkness, standing at the
opposite end of the hall from him. She had dismissed her Transcendent
Form and looked like a human once again, her pale face smeared with
blood.

Just as he caught sight of her, she shouted:

"Back!"
Immediately, the two great wolves leaped away. The Reflection lingered for
a moment before retreating to stall Fiend, while Lonesome Howl herself
gently grabbed Silent Stalker in her teeth and dragged her toward Revel like
a kitten. Sunny shaped a mass of wild shadows into an odachi and prepared
to defend the wounded Saints from the champions of Song.

"Fiend! Come here!"

The infernal troll looked at the retreating wolves with regret, and then
stepped through the shadows to stand by Sunny's side.

The four surviving Saints were now behind them, looking relieved at the
sight of the Lord of Shadows.

They were in a sorry state — even Sir Jest, who had escaped with relatively
fewer wounds, was covered in blood.

In fact, the only person in the vast hall whose armor wasn't covered in blood
was Sunny himself. That was because it was rather hard to make him bleed
— however, to those who did not know about that peculiar trait of his, it
looked as if he had escaped the dreadful battle against Dark Dancer Revel
entirely unscathed.

His armor was breached and broken, though, making some of them question
if there really was a human body underneath it.

Sunny, meanwhile, was given pause by Sir Jest's Transcendent form. Where
had the amicable old man gone? Instead, a sinister abomination had taken
his place, pure malice burning in its inhuman eyes. It had the body of a man
and the legs of a goat, with two frightening horns growing from its
disturbing, bestial head. The only word that could be used to describe it
was... demonic.

Was he a satyr, or a literal friend from the depths of hell?

Sunny suddenly felt a chill run down his spine.

...Across from them were Revel, Lonesome Howl, Silent Stalker, the
Reflection, and the remaining undead Saints. The air seemed to crackle with
tension, and none of the sides was in a hurry to make a move.

It was then that a violent explosion shook the hall, and Nephis arrived from
above in a rain of burning debris.

At the same time... it felt as if Sunny's vision was blurred for a moment.
Suddenly, a delicate beauty with white hair and shimmering eyes —
Moonveil — appeared near Revel, her face pale and smeared in blood.
Accompanying her... He blinked.

Accompanying the beautiful princess was a Reflection of Nephis. The

creature looked like her, and had the same presence as her... and yet, Sunny
found the copy lacking.

There was simply no way to mistake it for the real Changing Star, even if
one was blind.

The appearance of: the Reflection answered Sunny's recent question,

though, making him scowl behind the mask.

'No wonder.‘

Now that he saw the copy of Nephis, he knew why she had told him to
destroy the corpse of the Great Terror as fast as possible. Considering that
the Reflection was able to mirror her, it could not be a mere Beast.

Nephis had already reformed the soul core she had detonated to escape
from the Cursed Terror, Condemnation, and was a Transcendent Titan once
again — therefore, the Reflection had to be a Titan, as well. Either a
Transcendent one... or even Supreme.

Sunny's eyes widened a little.

'That bastard…’

If the Great Terror remained whole, the damn creature might have been able
to mirror it, instead. Then, they would have had to contend against that
abomination in addition to the daughters of Ki Song.

Sadly, Sunny could only see the reflection of Neph's mirrored soul cores,
and with the mess of various potent auras clashing in the dark hall, he could
not measure the power of the Reflection accurately... it might have been
hiding its power, as well.

'Can it really be Supreme?‘

What the hell could Mordret have done to nurture a Supreme Titan? How
would he have even created one, considering that each Reflection
demanded a sacrifice of as many soul cores as a creature of its Class was
meant to possess?

He had so many questions, and none of the possible answers promised

anything good for the future.

As Nephis softly landed on the ground, an eerie silence settled in the

darkness of the devastated hall.

A moment later, however, the darkness was chased away by soft light.

The wounds on the bodies of Roan, Helie, and the Saint slumped on Helie's
back shone with white radiance and began to heal with startling speed.

Almost at the same time, the Reflection of Nephis laid its hands on Revel
and Silent Stalker, healing them in turn.

'Great.‘

Sunny sighed.

It was an incredible boon, to have a healer on one's side.

However, if the enemy had access to a healer as well, an already terrible

battle could become a truly gruesome affair.

That was precisely what seemed to be happening right now.

1903 Wide Sleeves

For a few moments, neither side moved.

The Saints of the Sword Army had almost recovered from their wounds —
all except Sir Jest, curiously enough. Sunny couldn't help but notice that
Nephis was able to heal the rest from a distance, but that did not include the
old man.

On the other side, Revel and Silent Stalker were also close to being healed.
At the same time, something that Sunny had assumed was a severely
damaged statue of a fearsome gargoyle moved, revealing itself to be a
living creature.

'...'l‘he Saint of Sorrow.‘

Even though they were enemies in this battle, Sunny was a little glad that
Tamar's father had survived.

For now, at least.

Even though those who had been wounded most severely were now saved
from the clutches of death by pure white flames, both sides were still in a
sorry state. Most of them were exhausted, mentally shaken, and wary. More
importantly, almost every participant of the battle had expended great
amounts of essence in the furious fight.

Funnily enough, Sunny was an exception, since he had been prevented from
calling upon his Aspect in the clash against Revel. In addition to that, he
barely used any Memories — those put a strain on one's essence, as well,
especially with soul arsenals as powerful as those Saints usually possessed.
The more powerful a Memory was, the more essence its enchantments
consumed.

Unlike the rest. of the fighters, Sunny was fresh and could go on fighting
with the same level of intensity for a long while.
Nephis seemed flush with essence, as well — he did not know what she had
faced prior to descending from above in a storm of flames, but it did not
seem like she had used her Aspect extensively. Apart from that, she was a
Transcendent Titan — her pool of essence was seven times more
voluminous than that of other Saints, to begin with. Her lineage enhanced it
even further. So, both of the most powerful champions of on the side of the
Sword Domain were in a good shape... which could not be said about the
daughters of Ki Song. Honestly, things weren't looking good for them.

They had started the battle in a supremely advantageous position — not

only had they had the element of surprise on their side, immediately
eliminating several opponents, but they had also been able to isolate and
suppress the leaders of the conquest force.

Now, however, these advantages were gone. Worse than that, several of
Mordret's Reflections had already been destroyed. The corpse of the Great
Terror was also gone, and it would not be easy to counter Sunny's powers
next to Nephis. Revel‘s own power was being suppressed now.

‘We should be able to decimate them.’

Unless Lightslayer had more trump cards hidden up her sleeve, he did not
see a way for her to salvage the situation.

Judging by her somber expression, Revel had come to the same conclusion.

She looked up, at the burning ceiling of the vast hall and the vertical inferno
left by N eph's descend from the upper floors of the garden temple.

Then, Revel lowered her gaze and looked directly at Nephis.

"...Have you not come to conquer this Citadel for the King of Swords,
Changing Star?"

Nephis lingered with the answer for a few moments.

"So I have."

Lightslayer smiled coldly.

"Quite an interesting strategy, to unleash your flames in the heart of a
wooden Citadel. If I did not know better, I would have assumed that your
aim is to destroy it instead."

Sunny had to admit that there was some truth to her words. Smoke was
already drifting into the vast hall from above, and the fire was spreading.
The ancient castle had already sustained heavy damage from the furious
forces unleashed by the clash of so many Saints —— in fact, it was a
miracle that it was still standing. Sunny remembered the first Transcendent
battle he had witnessed. Back then, just two Saints — Tyris and Cormac —
had destroyed an entire island in their clash.

The people who had left behind this beautiful stronghold were truly
remarkable builders, it seemed.

Nephis considered Revel's words for a moment or two. 'l‘hen, her radiance
dimmed, and she dismissed her Transformation, turning back into a human.
Miraculously... this time, her armor had survived.

However, Sunny gritted his teeth when he saw it.

There were no wounds on the body, but her blackened armor was terribly
shredded, pierced in at least a dozen places, and on the verge of collapsing
into a whirlwind of sparks.

She had suffered greatly in the battle against Moonveil, it seemed.

His eyes flashed with murderous cold behind the cracked mask.

'...I'll kill them slowly.‘

Whatever fatigue Sunny had felt disappeared, replaced by deadly intent.

Standing beside him, Nephis stared at Revel impassively.

"If it means denying the Citadel to the Song Domain... I just might go ahead
and destroy it. Why not?"

A corner of her mouth curled upward slightly, and she added evenly:
"Of course, I'll make sure to destroy you first."

Revel's expression turned grim.

She hesitated for a few moments, then uttered through gritted teeth:

"You can try. You might even live long enough to enjoy the outcome. But
what about your companions? Will they survive?"

Sunny frowned, not sure why she was saying these things.

Was Revel, perhaps, trying to negotiate a peaceful resolution instead of

continuing the bloody battle?

If so, she was extremely naive. There was no way that Nephis would
surrender her claim on this Citadel — she would indeed rather burn it to the
ground, if that was the only choice. Which it wasn't, since the remains of
the conquest force were poised to achieve victory.

But Revel was definitely not naive, so...

'She's buying time.‘

Sunny cursed mentally and prepared to lunge forward.

But it was already late.

By that time, Moonveil had already finished whatever it was she had been
secretly doing.

She raised her hands and brought them together, forming a triangle with her
thumbs and index fingers.

A split second later, a drop of vibrant crimson blood suddenly materialized

in the middle of the triangle...

And Sunny's senses screamed at him that he was in dire danger.

As it turned out, Revel did, in fact, have another trump card up her sleeve.
1904 Queen's Blood

There was very little time to react, and even less time to comprehend what
was happening.

However, Sunny still managed to recognize the drop of dark blood, and
guess what it represented.

He had seen something similar once, a long time ago.

Back then, he and a group of survivors of the Battle of the Black Skull had
been desperately trying to escape from the Skinwalker, lost in the white
dunes of the Nightmare Desert. Sadly, the vessels of the Great abomination
still managed to catch up with them.

Some of the survivors chose to split up, but most stayed together. It was
then that Morgan summoned a swarm of flying swords — now, Sunny
knew that those were swords forged by her father.

Seishan, meanwhile, had summoned a drop of blood almost identical to the

one hovering in the air between Moonveil's fingers right now.

Sunny had been running for his life, so he did not see what the eerie drop of
blood actually accomplished. He just remembered a strange feeling of awe,
and that the entire world was momentarily painted in shades of red when its
vast and terrifying power was unleashed.

He could make a conjecture, though.

Considering that Anvil had bestowed the swords — conduits of his power
— to Morgan before sending her to Antarctica, wasn't it reasonable to
assume that Ki Song had bestowed something to her daughter, as well?

If so, then the drop of blood was a vessel of a Sovereign's power.

...Which did not mean anything good for Sunny, Nephis, and the rest of the
Saints of the Sword Domain.
‘Damn it!'

It was already too late by the time Sunny realized that Revel was scheming
something.

The crimson drop swirled in the air...

And then exploded into a tidal wave of red light.

Sunny stumbled back, momentarily dazed by a crushing force of tyrannical

presence. It was as if a cold, penetrating gaze of someone's vast and
unfathomably powerful conscience brushed past him, making his very soul
shiver in fear.

The flood of crimson light rushed at them like a raging wave of blood,
submerging the world in a red radiance. He tried to raise a wall of shadows
in its path, but the ethereal light simply passed through it... a moment later,
the wall crumbled, the shadows forming it destroyed.

Neph's figure ignited with a blinding radiance of her own. Her pure light
seemed to hold the blood tide back for a few moments, but was then
overpowered and painted red.

Sunny steeled himself, knowing that he would have to withstand the power
of a Sovereign a heartbeat later.

Just before the wave of ethereal blood reached them, though...

A ghostly visage of interlocking shields shimmered in the air around the

remnants of the conquest force, enveloping them like a dome. The flood of
crimson light collided with it and parted, flowing past them on both sides.
Looking back, Sunny saw the sorry figure of Saint Rivalen of Aegis Rose
slumping against the wall near the gates of the Citadel.

'The insufferable fool is alive, after all...'

He allowed himself to feel relieved for a short moment, then turned his
attention back to the dire situation.
From what Sunny could remember, the power Seishan had unleashed in the
Nightmare Desert receded after a few moments. But then again, she had
been a mere Master back then — perhaps a Saint would be able to channel
the power of a Supreme better.

He took a step closer to Nephis and commanded Fiend to move forward,

shielding the group from the rush of red light.

Sadly, Sunny was right — a few moments passed, and then a few more. The
bloody radiance drowning the world did not dim.

The force field created by Rivalen, however, seemed to be weakening.

The ghostly shields had become invisible after manifesting for a second, but
Sunny could practically hear them bending under the pressure, ready to
succumb to it.

The shield wall protecting them from the power of Ki Song was slowly
becoming covered by a net of cracks. Or maybe it was rusting, slowly
dissolving into red dust.

'At best, I can escape by using Shadow Step.‘

He could take Nephis with him. Maybe Roan, as well... but Sunny had
never carried several Transcendent beings with him through the shadows.
He wasn't sure that he would be able to save the rest.

Meaning that he would have to leave at least some of the Saints of the
Sword Army behind. Who would he abandon? Jest? Rivalen? Helie?

...Luckily, in the end, he did not have to make that choice.

Eventually, after a dozen seconds or so, the red radiance enveloping the
world finally dimmed. It dissipated slowly, and then disappeared altogether.

The vast hall was plunged into dim darkness once again, illuminated by the
orange glow of the burning ceiling and the light of several luminous
Memories. Sunny‘s eyes widened.
The hall... was empty.

As Rivalen slumped on the floor and the other Saints drew hoarse breaths,
he looked around and then extended his shadow sense outward.

He did not sense anything.

Revel and her sisters were gone. So were the Saint of Sorrow and the
Reflections. Even the Transcendent corpses reanimated by the authority of
Queen Song were nowhere to be seen.

They have fled.

The battle was over, ending just as unexpectedly as it had started.

Sunny let out a sigh.

He did not even know what kind of a sigh it was — was it a sigh of relief,
or a sigh of disappointment?

In any case, now that the battle was finished...

They had to deal with its consequences before thinking about anything else.
"They're gone."

Nephis did not respond immediately, looking up, at the sea of flames raging
above them. Her expression was somber.

Sunny lingered for a moment.

"Can you put the fires out?"

She shook her head slowly.

"Perhaps. But the Citadel is already damaged too severely... it's on the verge
of breaking apart. By the time I suppress all the flames, it would have
collapsed already."
Sir Jest assumed his human form — thankfully — wiped the blood off his
face, and said in a wry tone:

"Suffering a fire in the middle of a lake... inside a dried up bone. How

ironic." He looked around, as if searching for something, then asked:

"So, what do we do, my lady?"

Nephis walked over to where Rivalen was laying on the floor and kneeled
beside him, placing her hands on his bloodied body.

"...It doesn't matter if the Citadel collapses. We just need to preserve the
Gateway. As long as the Gateway survives, the stronghold can be rebuilt
around it."

That was true.

Of course, it depended entirely on how the Spell had fashioned this

particular Gateway. There were some that existed in and of itself, like the
altar of the Sanctuary of Noctis. However, there were also some that drew
power from the structure around them, like the Gateway in the Crimson
Spire.

They had no choice but to try, though. Otherwise, the entire expedition
would be a complete failure.

Grimacing as a soft white radiance enveloped her hands, Nephis looked at

Sunny and said:

"We must locate the Gateway first."

He nodded, and then stepped into the shadows to go find it.

In truth, Sunny did not care that much about Anvil claiming another Citadel
in Godgrave. Now that the battle was over, his mind was preoccupied by
other issues.

Namely, all the revelations he had achieved while fighting Lightslayer, and
all the boons he had received…
1905 Pyrhhic Victory

As it turned out, the Citadel had several spacious underground levels. That
only made sense, considering that the lake surrounding it was transient — it
swelled when the Hollows were flooded and drained once the water flowed
through the ribs of the dead deity into its titanic spine.

So, those levels were only situated below the ground level when the lake
was full. Most of the time, they would actually be above the water, and so,
there was another grand entrance situated lower than the vast hall where the
ambush had taken place.

Sunny found the Gateway beneath a crystal dome situated not far from that
entrance.

He remained still for a few moments, bewildered by what he saw and felt
there.

There was a small grove growing behind the transparent walls of the dome.
They was enveloped by scarlet vines from outside —however, there were
perfectly normal plants growing inside.

Emerald grass, ancient oaks, soft moss, and beautiful flowers blooming on
the meadow hidden

at the heart of the grove, where a small pond of pristine water stood still in
the tranquil darkness.

These were the first plants that had not been twisted by Corruption that
Sunny found in Godgrave — in all of Dream Realm, perhaps, apart from
those brought here by the inhabitants of the waking world.

More than that, he sensed something as he entered the crystal dome. A pure
and

unmistakable feeling of sacredness permeated the air here, as if the taint

consuming the rest of this cursed region had never managed to find its way
inside the crystal dome.
The pond is the Gateway.'

Sunny glanced at the calm water, realizing that he could not determine how
deep it was. Then, he turned away with a shrug and stepped through the
shadows back to where he had left Nephis and the other Saints.

Soon, all of them sought refuge in the grove.

The Citadel above them was burning and falling apart. Its walls were
resilient enough to repel the incinerating flames summoned by Nephis... at
least for a while. However, the castle had become overgrown by the scarlet
infestation over the ages — the vines and trees piercing its structure were
like kindling, helping the fire spread and destroy the ancient walls.

It would reach these lower levels soon, as well. However, Nephis could
protect at least one floor from being consumed by flames.

The bloodied Saints sat silently on the grass, too tired and rattled to talk.
Only Sir Jest seemed to be in a pleasant mood, but even he was keeping his
mouth shut, concentrating on cleaning the cane he had picked up from the
floor before leaving the ground level.

One of them had to erase Revel's imprint on the Citadel and replace it with
their own. However, six of the seven surviving Saints already controlled a
Citadel of their own — doing so would relinquish their authority over it.
The person most suited for the job was the Saint who had been wounded in
the ambush, but he was currently unconscious.

There were a few things they could do, but after discussing it shortly, the
Saints of the Sword Army had decided to simply wait for a while.

...Of course, Sunny could have taken the Citadel too. After all, he had seven
incarnations and could place seven tethers instead of one — but that was
not something he wanted the King of Swords to know. So, he just sat down
and stared into the

distance.
There was a lot for him to think about.

The battle... technically, they had won it. They had repelled the ambush and
conquered the Citadel —the Gateway, at least — thus fulfilling the goal of
the expedition force. Soon, the authority of the King of Swords would
spread to central Godgrave, and his Domain would stretch all the way from
the Clavicle Plain to the Breastbone Reach.

Even if Seishan and her Seventh Legion managed to take the Citadel in the
west, the Song Domain would still possess fewer Citadels, control less
territory, and be pressed to reach deeper into the Hollows from their remote
stronghold.

The Sword Army had achieved a victory today. However... it was a Pyrrhic
victory.

Sunny sighed.

Revel might have chosen to retreat, but that was in part due to the fact that
withdrawing was still a good outcome for the forces of Song. Yes, they had
lost the Citadel — but in the process, their enemy had suffered a debilitating
loss, as well.

Seven Saints of the Sword Domain were dead.

Silent Stalker had reaped more lives than anyone else, killing three
Transcendent champions of the Sword Army. Lonesome Howl and her
Reflections were just behind her, with two kills between the three of them.
Moonveil had killed one, and the last fallen Saint was brought down by the
risen dead... Revel did not kill anyone herself, but she had orchestrated the
entire battle.

In exchange, the Song Army only lost three of Mordret's Reflections. Their
destruction was not an insignificant loss, but it was not comparable to the
casualties suffered by Neph's team.

The Sword Army had already been at a disadvantage due to having fewer
Saints in its ranks. With the loss of these seven champions, the gap in the
number of Transcendents between Valor and Song was bound to become a
dire influence on all future battles.

So, none of the factual victors was in a good mood.

Hidden behind the mask, Sunny threw a secretive glance at Nephis.

She had already finished healing Sir Jest. His own wounds had been tended
to, as well. Now, she was sitting on the shore of the pond, looking at the
water with her usual detached expression.

She was in a tough situation.

As the commander of the expedition, Nephis was

responsible for the deaths of her people — each and every loss must have
weighed heavy on her soul. Sunny knew all too well the agony of failing
those who had entrusted their lives to you... many soldiers had perished to
help them reach the Citadel, and now, seven Saints were dead — each a
singular talent and a trusted comrade.

Nephis had more experience of being a leader than he had, and she had
ordered much more people to their deaths. However, one never grew
accustomed to such things... well, actually, maybe that statement was
wrong. Anvil and Ki Song seemed to have built quite a tolerance to
sacrificing human lives for their goals, and there should have been plenty of
others like them.

But Nephis had not. So, she was most likely hurting right now.

On the other hand... while she was leading these warriors, she was also
plotting against their king. In a sense, she was an outsider among them — a
traitor, even. She only cared about who ended up in control of the Citadel as
far as needing the two Sovereigns to weaken each other was concerned.

It must have been a difficult situation to navigate, both morally and

emotionally.
Added to that was the fact that her capacity for emotions and morality —
for humanity itself —

was currently somewhat washed away by the immolating flames of her

Aspect.

Sunny wanted to talk to her, but they could hardly exchange an honest word
while surrounded by the rest of the Saints.

After a while, the members of the conquest party regained some level of
composure, or maybe simply grew bored with silence. They started to talk,
sharing the information about the battle with each other.

Sunny listened for a while, learning about what Moonveil and Lonesome
Howl were capable of. He briefly shared his own experience fighting Revel,
as well, which earned him a heavy look from Nephis.

After that, he couldn't wait anymore. The fire was already spreading to this
floor, and the world had quaked terribly some time ago, signifying that the
upper levels of the Citadel collapsed. Since Nephis was going to be busy
preventing the flames from damaging the crystal dome, Sunny announced
that he would check the situation above and dissolved into shadows.

He was going to check on Saint.

1906 Dark Armor

A moment later, he emerged from the darkness on the great pyre of burning
rubble. The garden temple had indeed crumbled, consumed by a blazing
inferno. The mountain of debris was still aflame, and the heat was so
scorching that a mundane human would have been reduced to ash in an
instant.

Even a Saint could have been burned to death or smothered inside the
billowing cloud of black smoke. However, Sunny was more or less fine due
to the Onyx Mantle — it might not have been comfortable, but he could
explore the burning ruins freely.

It did not take him much time to find Saint. She was quite conspicuous —
out there amidst the blazing debris, there was an area consumed by
impenetrable darkness, its confines silent and tranquil.

His Shadow was inside. He couldn't quite see her, of course, but felt her
presence, as well as that of his shadows.

Sunny hesitated at the edge of the sphere of true darkness for a few
moments.

'...That's new.'

Saint had carried a bit of elemental darkness within her heart, true. But she
had never been able to summon it in this manner — she could only use it to
manifest a weapon or coat a Memory.

It seemed that killing the Reflection had filled the reservoir of the Heart of
Darkness to the brim, allowing her powers to evolve. From the look of it,
Saint had gained an Ability similar to what Revel was capable of — now,
she could cover an entire area with her darkness. The area was not quite as
vast as that of Revel, but that did not matter.

Sunny smiled.
What mattered was the synergy between this power and Saint's [Mantle of
Darkness] Ability.

'When surrounded by darkness, and true darkness more so, her swiftness
and might will increase. Her wounds will be healed...'

Now that Saint could freely unleash elemental darkness, she could be
surrounded by it at all times. Which meant that she would almost always be
able to receive the full boon of the [Mantle of Darkness].

There was more to it, as well.

Although Sunny was not sure how to help Saint evolve, he felt that this new
power of hers... could

very well be the first step to becoming a Tyrant. After all, Tyrants were
beings who exerted their authority on the world — much like the
Sovereigns did, albeit in a different manner.

Most Tyrants controlled either a territory or an army of minions, usually

both at the same time. And being able to drown an area in elemental
darkness was very close to gaining control over it.

'Isn't it?'

Sunny walked forward and at the same time took control of one of the
incarnations wrapped around Saint's body — otherwise, he would have
been blinded by his own Shadow's power, which would be quite
embarrassing.

Now that he was not consumed by the urgency of battle, Sunny felt stunned
by how strange and miraculous the feeling of fusing with another creature
was all over again.

He was dazed for a few moments, taking in the complex, alien sensation of
being one with Saint's body. He also felt relieved, noticing that her terrible
wounds were healing — she had spent all that time nestled in the embrace
of her own summoned darkness, after all, being nourished and nurtured by
it.

Then, a loud sound distracted him.

It was the sound of a battered onyx breastplate being dropped on the

ground.

Sunny blinked a couple of times.

Then, he blinked a few more times.

'No, wait. What?!'

Saint... seemed to be removing her armor.

There was no mistake. He was looking at the world through her eyes, after
all — the graceful stone knight was standing in the darkness, methodically
taking off her shattered armor. She was already all but free of it, with only a
few pieces remaining.

Sunny had caught glimpses of Saint's face and skin before, but he had never
seen her out of the intricate suit of fearsome armor. It was quite a shock.

Saint was wearing simple garments beneath the onyx plate, much like any
knight would. Her figure was alluringly flawless, fitting her inhumanly
beautiful face. Her skin was the same color as the onyx armor, making it
seem as if she was made of stone... however, she was not.

Although Saint's body looked like it was cut from stone and had many
properties of stone, it was merely stonelike. Now that Sunny could sense it,
he realized more clearly than ever that she was a being of flesh and blood...
well, at least of flesh and dust.

And seeing her like this, Sunny couldn't help but remember the beautiful
statue of Storm God he had seen in the shrine of the Ebony Tower once.

It was quite clear who Nether had used as inspiration when creating the
Stone Saints, at least in terms of appearance.
Saint, meanwhile, spared him an indifferent look and continued removing
her armor.

Her greaves and vambraces fell to the ground, leaving her entirely
defenseless.

Sunny remembered that she had not come here to stare just then.

'But why is she taking off the armor instead of restoring it?'

His answer came a moment later.

Saint knelt beside the broken armor and stared it for a while.

It almost seemed... as if there was a hint of an unknown, somber emotion in

her ruby eyes.

Then, she raised a hand and brought her fist down.

The adamantine onyx shattered like glass...

And was then absorbed into her body, just like the Memories she used to
consume had been before.

Suddenly, the crimson flames burning in her eyes grew deeper, and Saint
seemed to become stronger.

Standing up with a prideful expression, she straightened her back.

A moment later, her beautiful figure was enveloped by flowing darkness,

and that darkness...

Solidified, encasing the body of the taciturn Shadow in an impenetrable

carapace of intricate onyx armor. Pristine and new.

Sunny remained motionless.

'...I'll be damned.'
Saint had just manifested her own Onyx Mantle, it seemed.
1907 Negative Quality

After donning her new armor, Saint turned slightly and gazed at Sunny with
her usual indifference. He would have loved to study the design of the onyx
suit — it was not every day one saw an armor forged of pure darkness, after
all — but sadly, he couldn't.

That was because Sunny only saw the world through Saint's eyes, and she
was looking at him, not herself.

'How frustrating.'

This must have been what Cassie felt when conversing with someone in
private. The

confusion was only made worse by the fact that Sunny did not only share
Saint's vision — he shared all of her senses, just like Cassie shared all the
senses of those marked by her Ascended Ability.

Of course, it was much easier for him to get accustomed to such a strange
way of perceiving the world, since he had already been sharing his
consciousness across many incarnations. The quantity of perspectives was
not a problem for Sunny... it was just that their quality dazed him.

His avatars were identical copies of his own body, after all, while Saint was
very different from him. At least he was already used to her stonelike nature
after years spent together...

Or so he had thought.

As it turned out, his Shadow was not done surprising him today. The ability
to summon a pool of elemental darkness and manifest a suit of armor was
not the full extent of what she had gained by slaying Revel's Reflection.

There was some distance between Sunny and Saint, still. The debris was
charred and highly unstable, making it hard for her to move — after all, she
was close to three meters in height and weighed a literal ton. A few of them,
actually. So, the debris could very well fail to support her weight.
Which was why Saint did not walk. Instead, she simply turned into a torrent
of darkness and traveled all the way to where Sunny was standing in a
heartbeat.

It was not quite as instantaneous as moving between shadows with Shadow

Step, but still quite fast. The sensation of becoming a stream of darkness
was also very different from what Sunny usually felt when traveling
through shadows — in many ways that he found hard to describe, but
mainly because of how... hollow it felt, to be one with the darkness.

He did not feel embraced by the flow of elemental darkness. Instead, it was
a cold and unfathomable thing, too alien and indifferent to be welcoming.
Even being a part of it, Sunny felt nothing but profound solitude.

A moment later, Saint was towering above him, standing only by a few
meters of scorched wooden debris away.

The ground shook precariously, and the blackened wood creaked, as if

ready to crumble into embers and ash.

'Uh-oh.'

Of course, neither Saint nor Sunny would be seriously hurt if they fell
beneath the upper layer of the wreckage. They would not be burned in the
infernal depths of the smoldering ruin, either.

Still, he would have liked to avoid becoming smeared from head to toe in
soot...

Before Sunny could do anything, though, something about Saint changed

subtly.

And then, not so subtly. He opened his eyes wide.

'Did she just...'

She had. Saint had effortlessly changed the weight of her stonelike body,
making it as light as a feather.
Sunny blinked a couple of times.

'Feather of Truth?'

It was the same ability he possessed, granted by the Onyx Shell. Saint had
not been able to adjust her mass while wearing her original armor, but now
that it had become a part of her personal darkness, she could.

The effect was more or less the same, but the process was different.

Sunny had only vaguely felt it, but it was as if she had not simply changed
her mass... instead, it was as if a negative quality was added to it, thus
reducing the weight. Where had that negativity come from? He did not
know.

Then again, he did not know how the [Feather of Truth] worked, either.
Perhaps he had always done the same thing without realizing it.

In any case, Sunny was quite pleased with the fact that Saint could change
her weight at will now. Naturally, an ability like that was an incredible boon
in combat — he had woven it so deeply into his own battle art that fighting
any other way seemed clumsy and ineffectual now.

However, it was also quite useful outside of combat, since Saint's great
weight often presented a problem in mundane situations. Like walking on
fragile floors, traveling by boat... or swimming.

Considering how often Sunny found himself inexplicably thrown into large
bodies of water, that alone was an invaluable boon.

Saint stared at him from above for a bit. Then, she stared at him some more.

Her gaze was cold and indifferent, like always...

However, this time, Sunny had a completely different reaction to it.

He shifted from one leg to another, trying not to take offense.

'No, but... am I really this tiny?!'

Since he was looking through Saint's eyes right now, he was staring at
himself from her great height. From that perspective, Sunny indeed looked
like a little toy.

Was that how Saint always saw him?

He ground his teeth, missing the days when she was a mere Monster, and of
the same height as him.

Fiend had started out as a scrawny gremlin, as well... but now, that
gluttonous idiot was five meters tall.

Sunny did not even want to imagine what he looked like from Fiend's
perspective...

'He might be huge, but he's still an annoying imp inside! In fact, I should
start calling him Imp again, just so that the overgrown bastard does not get
a big head!'

Saint, meanwhile, tilted her head a little.

Then... he felt her body turning into a torrent of darkness once again.

But it did not rush anywhere. Instead, it shrank in size and then solidified
back into the figure of the graceful knight. Only now, she was smaller.

Suddenly, Sunny was looking at himself from a

new perspective... one level with his own eyes.

'Huh?'

He remained motionless for a moment.

'Huh!'

So Saint had not just gained the ability to reduce her weight. She had also
gained the ability to reduce her size, and used it to return to her original
modest stature...
Which was great news for Sunny! Simply wonderful news...

He smiled behind the mask.

"That's much better."

But as soon as he was done talking, Saint raised her chin slightly, and
changed her size once more.

This time, she made it so that she was a full head taller than Sunny.

He froze.

Nodding with a hint of satisfaction, Saint looked down at him, and then
headed away.

Sunny remained motionless, absolutely dumbfounded by the outrageous

sequence of events.

He only managed to regain his composure a few seconds later.

'What the hell? Where is she even going? There's nowhere to go!'
1908 Contemplating Mortality

Eventually, Sunny dismissed Saint to let her continue her recovery in the
dark silence of his soul. Able to see once again, he looked around a
pondered what he had learned.

Saint seemed to have gained several new powers. One was to summon a
pool of elemental darkness, one was to turn into a torrent of it, one was to
manifest a suit of armor, and the last two had to do with reducing her
weight and size.

However, Sunny was not sure if these were truly new Attributes and
Abilities, or simply evolutions of those she had already possessed. The suit
of armor forged from pure darkness, for example, was a logical extension of
her [Blade of Darkness] Ability. The power to summon a flood of elemental
darkness might have been simply the result of her [Heart of Darkness]
growing stronger.

Sunny was not sure. More than that, he did not even know if these new
powers Saint had shown him were the full extent of her change. Neither did
he know how many shadow fragments she had received after absorbing her
old suit of onyx armor.

She definitely seemed... stronger. Her presence had grown deeper, the cold
crimson flames burning in her eyes had become fiercer... even though Saint
had not evolved to a new Class, it felt as if she was much closer to
becoming a Tyrant now.

The problem was that Sunny had no way of knowing the details of what had
changed about her.

His [Handy Bracelet] imitated the shimmering runes, but what they read
came from Sunny's own head, not the omniscient reservoir of knowledge
that the Spell possessed.

So, there was only one way for him to fully understand Saint's new powers
— it was to ask Cassie to take a good look at her.
However...

Doing that was a problem in and of itself.

That was because Sunny had been unable to contact Cassie from the
moment Revel and her sisters ambushed the Saints of the Sword Domain —
or maybe even from before that, since he had not spoken to her for some
time prior to the ambush.

As soon as Sunny discovered that he could not hear Cassie, his incarnation
in the warcamp of the Sword Army had been searching for her. But

Master Sunless did not manage to find the blind seer yet.

Looking at the subterranean lake through the smoke, Sunny sighed.

'I wonder what she's up to.'

The smoke was irritating, so Sunny turned into a shadow and glided to the
edges of the smoldering ruin, where the air was cleaner.

Taking a deep breath, he looked at the water.

The dim darkness of the Hollows was illuminated by the orange glow of the
towering pyre, and dancing flames reflected on the surface of the lake. It
was quiet and pretty — a soothing scene after the violent fury of the recent
battle.

Looking at it, Sunny felt that an emotion he had been suppressing ever
since the daughters of Ki Song retreated finally broke free.

A tide of dark, terrifying fury escaped from its cage and flooded his heart.

'...Black Moon.'

Princess Moonveil, or whatever her name was... had almost killed Nephis
today. While Sunny was having fun learning new things and testing his
limits against Revel, Neph had been bleeding somewhere far above, alone
and robbed of her powers.
He couldn't quite make sense of it all.

Nephis was... Nephis. Her public image was that of a larger-than-life

heroine, and although Sunny knew that it had been meticulously crafted by
the government and Cassie, he still couldn't help but forget that she was a
mere mortal, sometimes.

She had accomplished the impossible too many times — just like he had —
and had overcome impossible odds on too many occasions. In addition to
that, her Aspect made her nearly immortal.

So, Sunny did not often contemplate the possibility that Nephis would be
killed. Even when imagining how he himself would fight someone with
powers similar to hers, he never thought about slaying them — that would
be just a senseless waste of time and energy.

Instead, he carefully considered how he would restrain the opponent and

render them helpless, which was the optimal way of defeating such a foe.

But today, that subconscious bias of his had been shattered. Each Aspect
was unique, and there were all kinds of them out there... even such an
insidious power as the ability to nullify all other powers existed, wielded by
one of the princesses of the Song Domain.

And Moonveil had used that power of hers against Nephis.

Sunny did not even know how close he had come to losing her, and he...
was not alright with that fact.

His hands turned into fists without him noticing.

For a moment, Sunny contemplated using his incarnation in the camp of the
Song Army to go on a slaughter. He was currently not too far from Seishan
and Death Singer — maybe killing them would be enough punishment for
Clan Song, who had dared to lay a hand on Nephis.

If not, it could at least make him feel better.

However, he quickly discarded that idea. Not only would it put Rain in
danger, but he couldn't really kill Saints for personal reasons. Perhaps
playing a Valor soldier had gotten into his head, a little — for a moment,
Sunny forgot that the Great Clan Song was not his enemy.

Its Queen was, as well as the King of Swords. Everyone else was a precious
resource that could not be wasted — with every Saint that perished in the
senseless war between the two Domains, the future of humanity was being
compromised.

Every powerful Awakened that died in Godgrave would not be able to save
countless lives in the dire, inevitable future.

Sunny let out a frustrated sigh.

Most of all, that impulse of his was childish.

He was letting his emotions get the best of him. He was being foolish.

Of course, Nephis could die. No matter how impossible it seemed, she

could be killed just like the rest of them. He had always understood that
logically, but understanding and acceptance were two different things.

Sunny could be killed despite his miraculous tenacity, as well. Or worse,

captured alive —remembering the dark mirror cell where Mordret had been
kept for many years made him shudder. That was not something he wished
for himself...

Or for Nephis.

Just as he thought about her, the weak flames around him were suddenly
extinguished, and she emerged from the smoke, shielding her face with a
hand.

"There you are."

Sunny studied her for a while, as if making sure that she was really alive,
and then smiled faintly behind the mask.
"Yes. Here I am."
1909 Feel Alive

Nephis walked over to the edge of the water, looked at it for a few
moments, and then sat on the ground.

Her voice sounded a little raspy, but mostly just as it always did:

He has regained consciousness and is binding the Gateway now. Revel's

imprint is strong, so it will take some time... ten minutes, at least. Maybe
half an hour."

She sighed.

"Some of us will have to return to the waking world after that, to bring back
the initial reinforcements. You know what happens next."

Sunny did know.

Once the Gateway was bound by a Saint of the Sword Army, Anvil's
Domain would manifest in the Hollows. The King of Swords would
probably arrive at the ruined Citadel himself, and the war would finally spill
beneath the surface of the ancient bones.

The subjugation of the Hollows was bound to be an affair both spectacular

and harrowing. Considering how powerful the predators of the ancient
jungle were, the king would have to lead the conquest personally... at least
for a while.

By the time the immediate area around the lake was conquered by the
Sword Army, both sides would have prominently established themselves in
Godgrave. The first stage of the war would be complete, and the two armies
would start clashing in large-scale battles, clamoring for control.

Control over the surface, control over the Hollows, control over the paths to
the remaining two Citadels.

Everything that had happened before was merely a prelude, and the true
bloodshed would begin now.
Well... there were ten more minutes before that happened, at least.

Nephis sighed and looked down, at her blackened, shredded armor. Then,
she dismissed it and summoned a soft white tunic instead.

Her voice sounded a little gloomy:

"You know... I think I am going to give up on wearing armor altogether.

What is the point, if it only ends up being destroyed? Or worse, a burden.
Especially these suits of full plate that Knights of Valor prefer — in the last
battle, the left elbow joint was bent almost immediately. I had to struggle
every time I needed to bend my arm."

A faint smile appeared on her face.

"I think it will be great... less burden, more mobility, wider field of view.
Not to mention the heat — everyone still cooking inside a steel armor will
be green with envy, looking at my well-ventilated self."

Sunny gave her a long stare, not at all happy at the thought of people staring
at Neph's... well-ventilated... body.

And unhappy for another reason, too.

"If it wasn't for your armor, it would have been your arm being cut instead
of an elbow joint being bent."

Nephis shrugged nonchalantly.

"I can heal my arm. I can't repair a broken piece of armor."

He frowned.

"Only, this time, you couldn't."

She did not respond, looking at the water with a hint of wistfulness in her
gaze. After a while, Sunny sighed. The facade of arrogant coldness the Lord
of Shadows usually wore slipped a little, and he said in a more humane
tone:
"It must have been hard, fighting against an overwhelming enemy without
your powers. I had my Shadows with me, at least. You were alone."

Nephis lingered for a few moments, then slowly shook her head.

"...Actually, it was nice."

Her gaze grew distant.

"I almost forgot, what it felt like — to hold a sword without the promise of
pain. I loved swordsmanship once, you know? That is because... I don't
have many memories of my father, and in those that I do, he is teaching me
how to hold a sword. So, even after he was gone, training made me feel a
connection to him."

She looked at the water.

"But I don't love it anymore. Wielding a sword has become simply

something that I do, because it is one of the tools at my disposal... the
sharpest of them, perhaps. In fact, I don't know if there's anything left that I
love."

Sunny remained silent, but his face fell a little behind the mask.

'Ouch.'

He knew that Neph's feelings for him were more shallow than his feelings
for her were — after all, from her perspective, they had only known each
other for a few months. But it still wasn't very pleasant, to hear his
supposed girlfriend say something like that.

Oblivious to his bitterness, Nephis sighed.

"Sometimes I wonder what my grandmother would have thought if she saw

me now. Would she have been proud? Or heartbroken? Is this what she
wanted for me? Probably not... I doubt it."

Sunny sat beside her, then turned and looked at her through the dark chasms
of his mask's eyes.
His voice sounded a little hesitant:

"From what I know... she would have been happy that you are alive. She
would say — good job staying alive, my dear. Well, or something like that.
In any case, you are your own person. Your grandmother could not know
the burden you carry and the scars that remain on your heart. She could not
understand the choices you make, or why you make them. No one is better
qualified to know these things than you are, so no one has the right to
critique your decisions. Don't worry about it."

Gods knew, the same held true for Sunny. Both of his parents had been
menial workers — he doubted that they would have had a lot of insight into
the life of a Saint, let alone one as exceptional as Sunny was. Their
mundane lives had been far away from the matters of gods, daemons,
Supreme tyrants, and world-ending wars.

But they would have been happy to know that both he and Rain were alive
and healthy. That they were forging their own path in life, despite how hard
and unforgiving the world was. That they had not been bent and misshapen
by its cold cruelty.

Nephis looked at him, remained silent for a few moments, and said evenly:

"...Your mask has a crack in it."

Sunny blinked.

'Right.'

It had cracked during the battle against Revel. The enchantments still
functioned, but with Anvil potentially arriving in a matter of minutes, it was
better to dismiss [Definitely Not Me] and don the real deal.

He sighed and dismissed the damaged Memory, summoning Weaver's Mask

instead.

...However, soon after the first mask dissolved into nothingness and before
the second one manifested itself into reality, Nephis suddenly placed a hand
on the back of Sunny's neck, pulled him closer, and kissed him.

He froze for a moment, then hurriedly dismissed the manifesting Divine

Memory and responded to her passionate kiss.

The softness of her lips, the heat of her skin... were intoxicating.

They quenched a thirst that he had not known he was suffering from, and at
the same time ignited a fire within him that was much more scorching than
the flames devouring the ruins of the fallen Citadel around them.

Dazed and enraptured, Sunny quietly cursed the Onyx Mantle for
preventing him from feeling the warm, supple fullness of her embrace.

Their fervent kiss lasted for a long time.

Nephis only drew away when both of them were on the verge of running
out of air. Breathing heavily, they remained silent for a few moments.

Sunny touched his lips, blinked a couple of times, then asked in an

unexpectedly shy tone:

"What... what was that for?"

She turned away with a slight smile and shrugged.

"Just... I thought I would die, for a few moments back there. So, I suddenly
wanted to feel alive."

He remained silent for a bit.

"So, do you feel alive now?"

Nephis considered his question seriously, then looked at him with a solemn
expression.

"I'd say... I'm about halfway revived?"

His eyes glistened.

...Before too long, both of them felt an imperceptible shift in the air. It was
as if an invisible, but palpable presence settled over the area, changing it
subtly — at the same time, irrevocably. Making it colder, sharper, and
heavier with solid intent.

The Sword Domain had descended into the Hollows.

1910 Rivergate

Rivergate, the Citadel of Clan Dagonet, was built on a wide river. It cut
across it like a great wall —or rather, a series of walls, descending from tall
cliffs like steps meant for a giant.

It was both a dam and a lock. The highest wall held back the powerful
current. Each step below it was separated by a vast chamber with towering
gates, which could be filled with or drained of water with the help of
ancient enchantments.

A ship traveling to or from the Stormsea could descend from the cliffs or
scale them due to the ancient system of locks, never leaving the river. At the
same time, nothing could swim further upstream without destroying the
Citadel — and even then, the assailant would have to crawl out of the water
and travel by land with the locks destroyed.

There was almost a kilometer of vertical distance between the highest point
of Rivergate and its lowest point. Each descending wall was incredibly tall
and thick, built of monolithic stone, with battlements constructed on top of
it. Fearsome siege weapons stood on the battlements — some of them
enchanted with ancient sorcery, some built by the forgemasters of Clan
Valor.

Hundreds of Awakened crowded the walls, led by a dozen Masters.

Seven Saints were standing on the highest of the fortress walls, looking
down with somber expressions.

They were Morgan, the Princess of War, and six champions whose help she
had enlisted... or coerced.

At this point, there was little difference.

Three of the six Saints had belonged to the House of Night once — Saint
Naeve, Saint Bloodwave, and Saint Aether.
The other three were with the government — Nightsinger, War Beast, and
Soul Reaper Jet.

At that moment, Naeve was talking to War Beast — Saint Athena, Raised
by Wolves.

"...So you encountered that fiend before?"

She gave him a long look, then smiled wryly.

"We even killed him before."

Naeve turned to a startlingly beautiful man with auburn hair and

mesmerizing green eyes, a stunned expression on his face.

"Saint Nightingale, is this true?"

Saint Kai shifted uncomfortably.

"Not exactly. What we killed was not that fiend — rather, it was a
Corrupted version of his Transcendent self conjured by the Nightmare.
Even then, none of us three dare claim any credit. He was eradicated by
Lady Changing Star."

He sighed.

"Still. We know more about what he's capable of than anyone else. That
should be of some help."

Naeve looked down, then cast a dark gaze south.

"...At least we know that he can be killed, then."

Less than a day had passed since Mordret of... of Nowhere, really, had
landed on the shore of the Sword Domain. The six Saints Morgan had
recruited barely had any time to talk while being brought to Rivergate by
her.
The journey from Bastion to here had been swift due to the fact that there
were three Transcendent champions of the House of Night with them.
Morgan herself had not said much to them, spending most of the journey
thinking about her task with a dark expression on her face.

She had, however, given each of the Six Saints an amulet in the shape of an
anvil pierced by a sword — all except Nightingale, who already possessed
one.

Her expression had been solemn while entrusting her companions with the
steel charms.

At the moment, there are only seven of these in existence. Now, six of them
are here — I spoiled quite a few relationships to take them away from the
previois owners. So, treasure them well. Never part with the amulet, and
don't allow that man to take it away from you. Unless you want to become
one of his vessels."

Saint Naeve studied the amulet with a mournful expression. After a while,
he asked:

"...Don't you have one for yourself, Lady Morgan?"

She shook her head.

"The seventh... had been lost in Antarctica and never recovered. My uncle
wore it. Of course, Clan Valor possesses other means of defense against that
man, but none are quite as easily transportable. In any case, don't worry. I'll
be fine."

Hearing her words, Soul Reaper raised an eyebrow.

"Oh? How so?"

Morgan answered her with a sharp smile.

"Well, if he does enter my soul... I'll just have to kill him there, won't I?
Like my dear sister did, in the Nightmare."
She had been preparing to fight her brother again for four years. Morgan
doubted that he would actually dare challenge her to a soul duel, but if he
did... both of them would not survive the battle, this time.

Morgan almost hoped that he would.

In fact, the amulets were a bad solution to their predicament. That was
because, from everything her family had learned about that man, the only
way to kill him was to destroy his true reflection during a soul duel... even
that had only been learned from Changing Star's report on the events of her
Third Nightmare.

So, by donning the amulets, her champions were rejecting the only method
of defeating the enemy.

But little could be done about that. Leaving them defenseless was too great
of a risk — she absolutely could not allow her brother to take more Saints,
because he would be able to conquer more Citadels by wearing their bodies.

And losing more Citadels to the Song Domain was not an option.

She sighed.

"How long before he comes?"

It was Saint Bloodwave, with his deep voice, who had asked the question.

Morgan lingered for a moment.

"He had already come. He's just hiding and observing us, for the time
being."

Her words seemed to unsettle the six Saints — or rather, five of them. Soul
Reaper remained relaxed and aloof, leaning on her ghostly war scythe as
she lazily studied the ancient walls of Rivergate.

Raised by Wolves shifted from one leg to another, and then looked at
Morgan with a smile.
"You know what they usually do in such situations in heroic novels, don't
you?"

Morgan couldn't help but admit... that she was continuously perplexed by
that woman.

She blinked a couple of times, trying to remember if she had even read a
heroic novel in her life.

Surely not.

"Can't say that I do, Saint Athena."

The tall woman — beautiful as a statue of the goddess of war that had come
alive — grinned.

"Well, the resourceful type of hero always blows up a dam and drowns an
army of ten thousand men, achieving an impossible victory and proving
their strategic genius. You're the strategist, so... we aren't going to blow up
Rivergate, are we? Oh, and call me Effie."

Morgan stared at her for a few moments, then slowly shook her head.

"No, we are not going to blow up Rivergate. Why would I try drowning an
enemy whose vessels are all Saints from the House of Night? That doesn't
make any sense."

Raised by Wolves... Effie... nodded knowingly.

"A good decision. You really are a genius!"

1911 Untamed Chaos

Morgan gazed at the ancient fortress below her. The Knights of Valor and
the warriors of the Dagonet clan were preparing for battle — they had
protected the river for decades, not letting a single abomination from the
Stormsea reach the Mirror Lake.

Of course, the best of them were in Godgrave now... and the guest who had
come from the sea this time was a much more dreadful creature than the
abominable dwellers of the depths.

She winced.

The river passed the series of great locks and flowed south, disappearing
beyond the horizon. The Stormsea was somewhere out there, as well, a few
days away.

In truth, Morgan did not need to destroy Rivergate...

Because it was already doomed.

The warriors crowding the walls of the fortress did not know it, and the six
Saints she had recruited did not know it either. But in truth, there was no
way to stop her brother here. He would destroy Rivergate himself —
everything except for the Gateway — and unleash the caged river, washing
away all signs of the destructive battle.

The warriors would die. The civilians living in the young city that had
grown upstream of Rivergate would most likely become collateral damage
in the Transcendent clash.

Morgan's goal here was not to save the ancestral home of clan Dagonet, but
to get a measure of the enemy's strength, and hopefully destroy a couple of
his Transcendent vessels.

Still, still...

Fighting a losing battle did not feel pleasant.

Morgan had inherited the lineage of War God, and so, she was often called
the Princess of War. She had been fighting against Nightmare Creatures
since before she was an Awakened — in fact, Morgan had barely finished
middle school when she was sent into an arena to face a Dormant Beast for
the first time.

Her First Nightmare had been a ruthless one, and she had undergone the
trial of the winter solstice like any ordinary Sleeper would. As an
Awakened, she led countless warriors into battles to protect the lands
controlled by her father, as well as various cities in the waking world.

She had conquered the Second Nightmare without losing a single member
of her cohort, and excelled in every duty entrusted to her as a Master...

Until Antarctica.

In the four years since, Morgan's renown had only grown. She had
challenged the Third Nightmare alone, attained Transcendence, and took
her rightful place as the general of the Valor army.

Changing Star might have shone brighter on the battlefield, but it was
Morgan who governed the powerful war machine of the Sword Domain,
making sure that the blossoming kingdom suffered no setbacks.

Today, many people called her a genius strategist...

Of course, most of those people had no idea about what that word really
meant.

In truth, there was no strategy to a war of Awakened.

There was only chaos.

On a battlefield where Saints and Devils fought, chaos reigned supreme.

There were too many strange Aspects, too many bizarre powers, too
inconceivable variables. Most lessons taught by the history of warfare went
out of the window, leaving only mayhem and carnage in their wake.
So, the only thing a strategist could do was rein in the chaos, tame it, and
make it serve their goals.

...Take Rivergate, for example.

It was a mighty fortress — one that should have been nearly impregnable
for any enemy coming from the south.

But what did it matter if the enemy possessed the Ability to connect two
reflections through his small, personal Mirror Realm and travel between
them, bringing his army with along?

The warriors on the walls were preparing to repel an attack from the south,
the siege weapons were aimed downstream, and even Morgan herself was
looking there. But her brother could easily attack from the north, taking the
city behind the fortress hostage first.

In fact, he could just bypass Rivergate entirely and go directly to Bastion.

Only he wouldn't.

Because Morgan was here, taming the chaos.

Mordret's goal was Bastion, but he did not know what traps his father and
Clan Valor had set up for him there. So, he would not attack it recklessly —
conquering the Great Citadel was a time-consuming affair.

And if he left Morgan behind to advance north...

She would simply go south and take the Night Garden, instead.

That was also the reason why Mordret could not spread his vessels thin and
attack the cities of the Sword Domain situated further inland — not only
would he have to surrender the Citadels of the Stormsea to place new
tethers, but the former Great Citadel of the House of Night would be left
defenseless.

...Of course, Morgan was sure that her brother actually wanted her to attack
Night Garden. Otherwise, he wouldn't have run it ashore, turning it into an
almost irresistible bait. Who knew what kind of trap he had prepared for her
there?

After all, Mordret — that thing pretending to be her brother — was an heir
of War, as well, no matter how much her father wanted to deny it.

Mordret knew how to tame chaos, too.

Between the two of them, the one who could do it better would survive, and
the other one would die.

'Funny.'

Morgan smiled, enjoying the warm breeze.

She did not really have memories of her brother from early childhood. He
had already been gone by the time she grew old enough to remember
anything. Morgan's mother had died giving birth to her, and her father was a
distant presence at best — he was more of a teacher than a parent, full of
demanding expectation, but devoid of warmth.

She was mostly raised by the elders of Clan Valor. But there was a distance
between her and the members of branch families, as well as the children
from the vassal clans. Growing up, the closest thing she had to friends her
age were the daughters of Ki Song... who were now her enemies, funnily
enough.

Still, it had not been an unhappy childhood.

...Until the brother she did not remember returned.

Morgan had been ten or eleven when he showed up in Bastion, having

already conquered the First Nightmare. She was happy at first, but then...
then, she quickly learned that there was something wrong about the eerie
boy who called himself Mordret.

Mordret had taught her what fear was, all the way back then.

And now, standing on the wall of Rivergate, Morgan felt it again.

She hated to admit it, but she was a little afraid. An amused smile appeared
on her face.

'How refreshing.'

It was such a nostalgic emotion. She had not felt it in a long, long while.

Turning to her six Transcendent companions, Morgan lingered for a

moment, and then said:

"What are you waiting for? Get to business."

Nightingale gave her a confused look.

...Even his confusion looked elegant and dashing. He was so annoying.

"What business?"

Morgan raised an eyebrow.

"What do you mean? Command the soldiers to retreat, get them off the
walls, start evacuating the city. Put everyone on boats and send them up the
river, to Bastion."

Rivergate might have been doomed, but that did not mean that everyone
here had to die or become a hostage to the Prince of Nothing. Even though
there was some strategic value in using the garrison as cannon fodder to
stall his vessels,

Morgan decided to forego the most rational path this one time.

She shook her head.

"Stop staring and start moving. Go! I want the city to be empty by
evening..."
1912 Self-Reflection

It wasn't easy to evacuate an entire city in the span of a day, even if it was
many times smaller

than Bastion. Luckily, Morgan had Nightingale with her — with his
commanding voice, everything went smoothly and swiftly.

The warriors defending the fortress were reluctant to leave their post, but
they did not dare to disobey her. The members of the Dagonet clan were
even more reluctant to abandon their Citadel without a battle, but Morgan
persuaded them without too much trouble. They were mostly non-
combatants, anyway — the true strength of the clan was far north, fighting
in Godgrave.

The rest knew that they would be of no real help in the clash against the
banished prince of Valor.

By the time the sun started to roll toward the horizon, Rivergate had grown
eerily quiet. Now, only the seven Saints remained in the ancient fortress,
calmly preparing for battle. The Saints from the House of Night were grim
and full of murderous desire for vengeance... the three government Saints
were strangely nonchalant.

Or maybe not so strangely. Two of them were the survivors of the Forgotten
Shore, after all, while the third was Soul Reaper Jet — Morgan wasn't even
sure if it was possible for them to lose composure.

'Like Nephis.'

Morgan briefly contemplated destroying the Gateway of Rivergate, but then

discarded that idea. It would not mean much for the war, anyway — not in
the long run, at least. The infrastructure of the Sword Domain would suffer
greatly, though, and it would be hard to rebuild after the war was over.

If there would be anyone left to rebuild, that was.

"Death! Death!"
Morgan stared at the annoying crow that seemed to always follow Soul
Reaper around with displeasure.

She scowled slightly.

"What are you saying, stupid bird?"

The crow stared back at her, then fluttered its wings in the air.

"Bird! Bird!"

Morgan sighed and shook her head. What was she doing talking to an
Echo?

Finally, their preparations were complete. She threw one last glance at the
river, which shone beautifully in the radiance of a blazing sunset, and took a
canteen of water off her belt.

Opening the lid, Morgan took a sip of water, then poured the rest on the
paved surface of the rampart.

For a moment, she could see her reflection in the puddle, surrounded by the
reflections of the six Saints.

Then, her reflection smiled.

And spoke.

"...It has been awhile, my dear sister."

None of the Saints reeled back, but those of them from the House of Night
visibly paled... even Saint Aether, who used to the ideal of composure and
decorum in the past, seemed unnerved.

Morgan nodded somberly, not paying the young man any attention.

"Indeed. The last time I saw you... was it when you failed to kill me and ran
away to save your sorry skin? And right after giving the big speech about
how uncompromising your desire to see me dead was, no less. That must
have been quite embarrassing for you."

Her reflection laughed.

"Ah... what a sweet memory! You floundering in the dirt, too weak to stand
up... I truly cherish it a lot."

Morgan gritted her teeth, the familiar feeling of shame cutting her like a
blade.

Mordret had taught her what shame was, as well.

Her reflection, meanwhile, pretended to look around.

"I see you've evacuated the town. How very unlike you, my dear sister. I
would have rather expected you to string every man and woman living there
on the fortress walls, to serve as padding. That would be more in line with
our family's style, wouldn't it?"

The reflection smiled pleasantly.

"...Of course, nothing is stopping me from going after the boats first, and
then returning here to finish you off."

Morgan met his smile with one of her own.

"Funny you should mention boats. Tell me, did you crash the Night Garden
into the shore because of some devious plan, or simply because you couldn't
properly control it?"

At that moment, Soul Reaper sighed.

"Are you really just going to trade insults?"

Morgan's reflection shifted its gaze to the three government Saints. Its smile
suddenly brightened.
"Saint Jet, Saint Kai, Saint Athena... it warms my heart to see you again, my
old comrades. Naeve, Bloodwave, and Aether too. I cherish the memories
of conquering Nightmares and battling the Stormsea side by side with you
all, as well."

Saint Naeve stared at the reflection coldly, then uttered through gritted
teeth:

"You vile creature..."

The reflection remained silent for a few moments, its smile slowly draining
away. Eventually, it stared at them with an eerie, inhuman expression.

Seeing her own face wearing it was a little disturbing, even for Morgan.

The reflection spoke once again, this time not bothering to put on a human
mask:

"I am going to say it once. The six of you... have nothing to do with this.
This is between me and the Great Clan Valor — a family affair, if you will.
So, I'll give you a chance to escape. Surrender the fortress and leave. Then,
I will spare your lives."

Saint Naeve looked at the reflection darkly.

"It is indeed a family affair. Our family, which you slaughtered!"

Soul Reaper Jet, meanwhile, just shrugged nonchalantly.

"It would be really inconvenient for me if you conquer Bastion. So... sorry.
We'll stay."

Her crow chose that solemn moment to caw loudly:

"Sorry! Sorry!"

Morgan glanced at the stupid bird, shook her head, and looked back at her
reflection.
"It must be getting really crowded in your head, huh? Did you really think
they would take you up on that offer?"

The reflection remained motionless for a few moments, then suddenly

smiled.

"Not really. But I had to ask for the sake of politeness. Not that that is out of
the way..."

Its smile turned bleak and eerie.

"...Prepare to die, I guess. Ah, I have really waited for this moment for a
long, long time."

A moment later, the wall under their feet trembled slightly.

And at the same time, the water of the river far downstream churned,
revealing several gargantuan shapes.

Morgan looked at the sunset and took a long, deep breath.

Scarlet sparks danced around her head, forming into a black helmet.

"Prepare for battle."

And just like that, the battle for Rivergate began.

1913 Devastation

The battle for Rivergate began at sunset.

...By the time the sun rose from behind the horizon once more, the ancient
fortress was gone.

The towering gates of the great locks were bent, broken, and torn off their
hinges. 'l‘he impregnable walls had crumbled. The enchanted siege
weapons had been reduced to dust.

The river, which had been held back by the immense dam for thousands of
years, had broken free and rushed toward the distant sea.

The devastating flood had demolished the smoldering ruins and washed
away the traces of the dreadful battle. The artificial lake around which the
city had been built dried up, revealing its muddy slopes. The basin of the
river below the cliffs, on the contrary, was flooded.

The entire landscape of the region had been devastated and reshaped,
becoming almost unrecognizable. A great waterfall roared as it plummeted
from the tall cliffs, while the stronghold of Clan Dagonet was no more.

'...What a pity.'

Morgan looked at the ruins of Rivergate with a wistful expression.

With the loss of the ancient stronghold, the Sword Domain would grow a
little weaker, while the Song Domain would grow a little stronger. But that
was not the reason for her regret.

The real reason was that Bastion had lost its connection to the sea. Even if
Godgrave was conquered by humans, it would never be a safe place — so,
no matter which side won the war in the end, the Stormsea would become
the connection between the two parts of the great human kingdom in the
Dream Realm.
Without Rivergate, it would be much more difficult to establish trade routes
to and from Bastion. And trade was the true engine of civilization.

'...Why am I even thinking about this?'

Morgan tiredly dismissed her helmet and spat out a torrent of blood.

The helmet had caved in by a devastating blow, and so had the right side of
her face. She could feel the sharp edges of her shattered teeth cut into her
tongue and the inside of her torn cheek... an unpleasant sensation, no doubt,
but far from the worst of what she was feeling right now.

Mordret had been like a calamity, descending upon them in all his cold,
inhuman fury. They had managed to give him a good fight — quite an
excellent one, really — but at the end of the day, it was all for naught. They
stood no chance against him.

So, Morgan had commanded her six subordinates to retreat, and stayed back
to stall the enemy for a little while.

She was starting to regret that decision a bit, now.

"You don't look so well, my dear sister."

Her brother's insidious voice was not mocking or full of dark glee, but
rather cold and indifferent. Strangely enough, that only made it sound more
frightening.

Morgan looked at herself quietly.

'It's true...'

Her armor had been breached and broken. Her body was terribly mutilated,
and one of her arms was practically severed... a commendable
accomplishment, really, considering how tough and durable her flesh was.
Blood was flowing from countless wounds, painting the shattered stones
beneath her into vibrant shades of scarlet — the same color as her strange
eyes.
Her bloody lips twisted into a grin.

"Really? I think red is my color, though."

Mordret simply stared at her, probably trying to guess what her next move
would be.

His own body did not bear many wounds, because he had used the
Transcendent vessels to shield it. The stolen bodies of the Saints of Night
were worse for wear — especially those who had fought Raised by Wolves
— but sadly, none had been destroyed. His soul had not been damaged too
severely, either, despite having faced Soul Reaper Jet.

Mordret knew just how dangerous she was, so he had made sure to suppress
her in particular during the battle.

All of them had fought valiantly, but none managed to stop his terrifying
assault.

Naeve and Bloodwave had battled their former clansmen in the depths of
the river, two against four, making it boil. Nightingale alone had engaged
four more vessels of the Prince of Nothing attacking from upstream.

Raised by Wolves had plunged into the water and almost tore the most
powerful of the leviathans, a terrifying kraken, apart — and that was after
wounding many by bombarding them with gargantuan javelins from high
above. Aether had defended the walls, while Soul Reaper had played a
deadly game of cat and mouse with four of Mordret's vessels in the south.

Morgan herself had engaged the true body of the mirror wraith.

...Hence her current sorry appearance.

She took a hoarse breath.

"I'll give it to you... brother. You are indeed great and terrible. To think that
you have been able to obliterate an entire Great Clan... now only that, but
you have even become no different from a Great Clan yourself. What a
weird sentence to say... oh, but in any case, it is quite an amazing feat, for a
single individual to change the entire flow of the war through his personal
achievements."

She spat more blood, straightened slightly, and added in a neutral tone:

"But you know what?"

Mordret raised an eyebrow and remained silent. After a few moments, he

shook his head.

"I am a little disappointed. I really expected more from you, sister."

Morgan smiled.

"What? Do you really think that this is it? Surely, no. No... you and I, we
are only just starting."

With that, she pierced him with a sharp gaze, and called upon one of the
enchantments stored deep within her body.

Instantly, her essence flowed like a tide, washing over her body and seeping
deep into its every cell.

Morgan's smile swiftly turned less lopsided. Her caved face regained its
previous shape, the deep cuts marring her flawless skin closing as if they
had never existed. Her broken teeth were restored to their previous pristine
condition. The countless wounds on her mangled body healed, while her
arm, which was hanging by a thread, was pulled back by ropes of growing
muscle, and was then attached back to where it belonged.

In just a few moments, Morgan was restored to perfect health, her body
brimming with energy and overflowing with soul essence. It was as if she
had not endured a grueling battle against her brother at all.

She moved a hand, and a deep cut split the stones between her and one of
Mordret's vessels, almost severing its head.

Standing some distance away, Mordret scowled.

"...Now where did you find a healing enchantment as powerful as that?"

Morgan simply smiled.

"I guess you might say that I saw it in a Nightmare."

1914 Floodgates Open

Morgan raised her sword and pointed it at the man who called himself her
brother.

"...I've collected a few other enchantments in preparation for meeting you

one day, brother. Would you like to see?"

Slowly, a dangerous light ignited in his mirror—like eyes, and his thin lips
twisted into a cold smile.

"Sure, why not? Ah... I do wonder how long your essence will last. If I cut
off both of your arms this time, would you have to spend more? No,
actually, I think I'll take your eyes. I remember losing one to your blade
once, so it will only be fair."

Morgan pierced him with a burning gaze, wishing that she could destroy
this monster here and now.

Then, she gritted her teeth and called upon another enchantment.

There were all kinds of Memories in the world, and Morgan's Ascended
Ability allowed her to assimilate their enchantments into her body. There
were limits to that power, of course, and a price that had to be paid for using
it.

However, it granted her a unique level of versatility, made her supremely

unpredictable in battle, and most of all, granted her great power.

If he wished so and had enough time to prepare, she could fly like
Nightingale, become a colossus like Raised by Wolves, cut souls like Soul
Reaper Jet, command darkness like the Lord of Shadows... even unleash
incinerating flames like Changing Star.

Sadly, nothing of what she could do — at least currently — could allow her
to defeat her monstrous brother and his thirteen Transcendent vessels alone.

So, she did not try.

Her goal at Rivergate had been accomplished, anyway.

The enchantment she called upon was powerful, but simple — it allowed
her to travel across great distances in an instant, as long as she had
established an anchor point in advance.

Morgan had placed an enchanted anchor on the shore of the river while
traveling to Rivergate from Bastion, and now, it was as if she was being
pulled back to it by a force overwhelming enough to pierce space itself.

As Mordret and his vessels readied themselves to repel Morgan's trump-

card attack...

She simply vanished into thin air, leaving no trace behind.

Mordret froze for a moment, staring at where his sister had been a split
second ago in disbelief. His gaze became unfocused for a moment, traveling
across the myriad reflections in the vast area around Rivergate.

Morgan was nowhere to be found.

Suddenly, a wry chuckle escaped from his lips, and he threw an amused
look north.

His eyes glistened with dark, mad killing intent.

"...l'll see you in Bastion, then."

***

A moment later, Morgan found herself on the shore of the river, flying
through the air at terrible speed. She hit the ground roughly and rolled
several times, smashing a couple of boulders into dust with her steel body.
Eventually, she came to a halt in a cloud of dust, just a few meters from the
edge of the water. It was a less than graceful entrance, to say the least.

Grimacing in annoyance, she flipped onto her back and slowly sat up.
The desolate ruins of Rivergate were gone, replaced by the picturesque
view of the Sword Domain's heartland. The clear water of the river
glistened in the golden light of dawn, and ancient trees swayed in the light
breeze, their emerald leaves rustling like a sea.

Of course, there were all kinds of horrors hiding beneath the surface of the
water, and the tall trees could pull you under the ground with their roots to
serve as nourishment for the rustling leaves. The Dream Realm could often
be beautiful, but it was never kind.

Today, however, everything was peaceful and quiet, as if the river and the
forest were afraid to make a sound.

And for a good reason.

There was a majestic dragon laying on the shore of the river, his midnight-
blue scale almost turning black in the sunlight. A woman with icy-blue eyes
was leaning on his side, emanating a feeling of chilling cold. Another
woman, this one seemingly cast of polished steel, was gnawing on a bone of
a slain abomination near a fire nearby.

Two great shadows were hiding under the water, and a young man in a suit
of damaged armor was sitting on the shore, staring into the water with a
bleak expression.

As she appeared, everyone turned in her direction.

They were battered and bloodied, but alive.

The young man was the first one to speak:

"Lady Morgan! You... you have survived."

She spared him a short glance, then turned away.

"...It's quite insulting to see you acting so surprised, Lord Aether. Of course,
I did."

Morgan couldn't help but treat the young man coldly.

Aether used to be one of the most promising young Saints of the House of
Night... when it still existed. He was strong, talented, valiant, and excellent
in all regards. In fact, back when Clan Valor had been in talks with the
House of Night to forge an alliance through marriage, it was Saint Aether
who was supposed to become her fiancé.

The negotiations had fallen through, of course, and although Morgan knew
that it was for a political reason... she couldn't help but feel personally
slighted by the man. Which was ironic, honestly, considering that she had
not really wanted negotiations to succeed, feeling ambivalent about the
whole affair.

Still...

'Look who crawled back to beg me for help after rejecting me so firmly...'

Of course, she did not let these childish thoughts show on her face.

At that moment, the surface of the water broke, and the head of an
enormous sea serpent rose above the water, looking at her with two giant
indigo eyes. Saint Naeve assumed his human form and walked onto the
shore, looking slightly worse for wear after the tough battle.

He gave her a bow.

"Lady Morgan."

The older Nightwalker hesitated for a few moments, and then shook his
head. "It is good that you are unharmed. However, the enemy... I simply
can't understand how an individual can be that strong. What kind of monster
has your clan created?"

She gave him a bleak look.

"First of all... it wasn't us who created him. If anything, my clan had been
protecting the world from that thing for many years. Secondly — he is that
strong because he is the first human in the history of our world who has
attained a Divine Aspect. Yes, those do exist. But actually... we are in luck."
Naeve scowled.

"You call that luck?"

Morgan let out a tired sigh and smiled at him.

Unlike Aether, she quite liked Saint Naeve. That was because she had met
his daughter briefly while arranging for the survivors of the House of Night
to be taken care of, and the little girl was positively sweet.

"Indeed. Because what you have witnessed at Rivergate is merely half of

that monster's strength. He did not even bring out his Reflections... given
the circumstances, we might very well assume that he is unable to do so at
the moment, for whatever reason. So, yes. Count yourself lucky."

The dragon raised its head and looked at her, which made Morgan's shiver.

A moment later, a deep, melodious voice resounded in her ears:

"We lost Rivergate. What now?"

Morgan hesitated for a few moments.

She could evacuate the modest town that had grown around the Citadel of
House Dagonet, but there were tens of millions of people living in Bastion.
They would not be able to flee anywhere when the war came knocking on
their door.

Of course...

Bastion was not just any Citadel, but a Great one. It had a power of its own,
and if she used that power well, the outcome of her battle against Mordret
would be...

Less set in stone than it seemed, at the moment.

Rising to her feet, Morgan shrugged.

"Now, we rush back to Bastion and prepare for a siege."

A pale smile twisted her bloodied lips.

"If I can have my way, that siege is going to be a long one..."

1915 Broken Balance

A hideous abomination lunged at a screaming soldier, only to have an arrow

pierce its eye and tumble to the ground. As the massive beast rolled in the
red moss, another was already climbing over its dead body.

"Grab him!"

Rain took a shaky step back, necking another arrow on the string. As she
strained her muscles to draw the Beast of Prey, two Awakened warriors of
the Seventh Legion dashed forward, grabbed the soldier, and dragged him
back toward the crumbling phalanx.

The man was missing both legs and bleeding profusely, his screams
drowning in the horrid cacophony of the battle. He was going to bleed to
death shortly — if not for Fleur, that was, whose Aspect allowed her to stem
bleeding and hasten healing.

The dying soldier was thrown to the ground behind the loose line of the
melee vanguard, and she immediately fell to her knees next. to him,
reaching with both bloodied hands to treat his terrible wounds.

The delicate young woman had lost her usual sweet bearance and luster,
looking grim and haggard. Her beautiful silk robe was painted red by blood,
and her red hair was soaked with sweat. She gritted her teeth, which made
her fair face look even paler.

Rain did not have time to see if her friend was doing alright. She barely
managed to take aim before letting go of the string, then stumbled another
step back.

All around them, the expedition force of the Song Army was drowning in a
seemingly endless tide of abominations. There was no end to them, and the
hideous corpses kept piling, forming a morbid rampart around the
stubbornly resisting human legions.
That rampart of bleeding flesh, at least, slowed the Nightmare Creatures
down. The scale of the battle was inconceivable. There were countless
Awakened warriors, more than a thousand Masters, and three dozen Saints
battling the frenzied hordes of Nightmare Creatures under the blinding
radiance of the cloudy sky.

The ground was quaking, the air was permeated by an unbearable stench of
blood, and the abominable jungle was burning all around them, black pillars
of smoke rising above the chaotic battlefield.

Tamar and Ray were just ahead, holding back the flood of Nightmare
Creatures as part of the first line. Rain was using her enchanted bow and
stunning archery skill to support them, while Fleur played the role of the
field medic.

The situation was dire.

The expedition force led by Lady Seishan had made it all the way across the
Collarbone Plain, reaching the great fissure that led to the vicinity of the
supposed Citadel. The march had been a feverish nightmare of gruesome
battles and appalling bloodshed, but they had arrived at their destination
with relative ease.

The jungle had been pushed back and burned, its inhabitants had been
obliterated. A chain of fortified forts had been raised along the way,
encircling lesser cracks in the bone plain, their garrisons tasked with
holding back the scarlet infestation.

The soldiers were growing used to the deathly threat posed by the sky, so
fewer and fewer of them lost their lives when the veil of clouds parted. The
Transcendent champions of the Song Domain were learning how to deal
with the scarlet infestation better, as well.

The great fissure was now behind them, vast like a valley, with scarlet
tendrils protruding from it akin to bulging hills. The dreadful Hollows were
far below, teeming with ancient horrors and Nightmare Creatures so fierce
that even Saints were not safe from their fangs and claws...
The plan had been for the army to camp near the edge of the fissure while
the elite conquest force went into the dim darkness of the Hollows to
conquer the Citadel. Sadly, there had been a wrinkle in that plan.

That was because a terrifyingly vast and inexplicable horde of Nightmare

Creatures suddenly emerged from the jungle and rushed at the expedition
force like a tidal wave, threatening to swallow the entire army.

No one knew where the abominations had come from in such great numbers
and why. However, in hindsight, their appearance was only logical —
Godgrave was not just a place, after all, but also an eerie and bizarre
ecosystem. Everything here was connected.

When the Sword Army initiated its conquest. of the Collarbone Plain from
the east, they had destroyed and incinerated vast swathes of the scarlet
jungle. Their advance disturbed the balance of the ecosystem, driving
countless Nightmare Creatures west — which, in turn, displaced even more
abominations, forming a terrible stampede of monsters.

The army led by Lady Seishan was now under threat of being buried under
that monstrous avalanche.

The cause and timing of it all were so deadly and unfortunate for the
warriors of Song that Rain couldn't help but think that the person in charge
of the Sword Army had somehow known that this would happen, and
caused it deliberately. How devious did one have to be to use absolute
chaos to their advantage?

In any case, the Song Army was now surrounded, with their backs pressed
against the edge of the great fissure, with nowhere to retreat and no chance
but to fight.

Which was what they had been doing for many hours, killing countless
abominations... and still, there was no end to them.

Worse still, there were dreadful Nightmare Creatures climbing out of the
Hollows to attack the rear of the battle formation, as well — each vastly
more powerful than those attacking from the front. Because of that, the
attention of the Song Saints was split, and the front line received far less
support from the Transcendent champions than it needed.

Lady Scishan was in the rear, as well, holding the ancient predators of the
Hollows back while her army was being slowly consumed by the nightmare
stampede. The Seventh Legion was currently being commanded by her
personal retinue, the Blood Sisters.

Just as Rain thought about it, one of them appeared in view.

A swift silhouette of a beautiful woman with a slender figure plummeted

from somewhere above, diving into the horde of Nightmare Creatures like a
splash of red. Blood spilled like a river, and her crimson garments fluttered
as she tore through the flood of abominations, rending them with what
seemed like her bare hands.

Even though the Blood Sisters were merely Masters, each of them was
worth a cohort of Ascended in battle. With just that woman alone joining
the fray, the pressure on Rain's span of the front line lessened significantly,
and she could finally catch her breath.

'Ah... I'm tired...'

The Blood Sisters were cold and unapproachable, usually keeping to

themselves, so they seemed a little mysterious. Because of that, there were
many strange rumors floating around about them — however, Rain did not
care about those rumors one bit.

As far as she was concerned, these older sisters were the epitome of grace
and coolness. At the moment, especially, she was ready to kowtow in front
of them and sing them endless praise.

Using the momentary lull in the onslaught of abominations, she staggered

toward Fleur and patted the delicate girl on the shoulder.

"Fleur... recharge, please..."

Even her seemingly inexhaustible Awakened endurance was being sorely
tested by the grueling demands of this battle. The delicate young woman's
Dormant Ability, meanwhile, could alleviate one's fatigue.

That was just what Rain needed after drawing the heavy string of her
enchanted bows so many times.

Fleur looked up at her, forced out a smile, and raised her hand.

In the next moment, Rain felt as if she had been given a second wind. Of
course, it was more like a sixth or seventh wind, already... in any case, her
body felt reinvigorated, and a new strength filled her limbs.

She smiled back.

"Thanks."

Then, she nocked another arrow and drew her bow once again, quickly
searching for new prey. She had already wounded, maimed, and killed
many Nightmare Creatures...

What frightened her, though, was that no matter how many of them they
killed, there did not seem to be fewer of the horrid creatures still hungering
to taste their blood…
1916 Burning the Bridges

A few moments later, the Blood Sister escaped from the tide of
abominations, sliding dozens of meters back on the slick surface of the
ancient bone. Coming to a halt just behind the frontliners, she straightened
calmly, her beautiful face smeared with blood... none of which was her
own.

Blood was also dripping from her hands, soaking the edges of her sleeves.

Her eyes, however, were eerily calm, as if she had not just perpetrated a
brutal slaughter in the midst of a frenzied horde of Nightmare Creatures and
then escaped unscathed. Her crimson garments had no tears in them, and
her expression was cold and emotionless.

By mere coincidence, the Blood Sister was standing just a few steps away,
so Rain could see every detail. She allowed herself to stare for a moment,
then looked back at the carnage in front, worriedly searching for Tamar's
swift figure.

It was easy to spot the young Legacy due to the fact that she moved like
lightning, stepping on air to slay the abominations while avoiding their
claws. Her giant zweihander was like a white blur, severing enormous
beasts in half and taking off their limbs.

'...Still alive.'

The entire formation was pushed back, and Rain took another step back, as
well. Her body was not exhausted yet thanks to Fleur, and her mind had not
turned numb yet thanks to the Puppeteer's Shroud.

She drew her bow, aimed, and put another arrow through an abomination's
eye. Usually, it would have been difficult for her to kill a Beast of such
Rank in one shot, but her bow had an enchantment that enhanced the
damage each of her arrows dealt. Her aim was even better, and she rarely
failed to strike a weak point.
Just then, another Blood Sister appeared near the first — this one had come
from the rear of the formation, with a somber look on her face.

The first Ascended turned her bloodied face toward her.

"What is it?"

The second answered in an even tone:

"Lady Seishan sends orders."

Rain could not help but hear their conversation, so her heart started to beat
faster.

She did not see a way for the army to survive this avalanche of Nightmare
Creatures... not without suffering crippling casualties, at least. But maybe
the person in charge of the whole expedition had a solution.

The Blood Sister paused for a moment and then continued:

"There is no hope of withstanding this stampede in a frontal battle. We are

to retreat into the Hollows."

The first one raised an eyebrow.

"Everyone? Awakened soldiers, too?"

The over Ascended nodded.

"Lady Seishan has already descended into the fissure to cleanse a landing
zone for the army. The other Saints will hold the line while the troops
follow. The Seventh Legion's precise orders are..."

Rain gulped.

Among all military maneuvers, an organized retreat was probably the

hardest to pull off. One that included an orderly descent from a vertical
cliff, though... was almost unheard of.
And they were not descending to safety, either. Instead, they were
descending into the Hollows — a place where the weakest abomination
could devour a Saint.

She suddenly felt cold despite the suffocating heat.

An army of Awakened would not survive in the Hollows... not without the
support of a Sovereign's Domain, at least. Which meant that their only
chance to live on was to reach the Citadel and conquer it.

By giving such an order, Lady Seishan was basically burning the bridges
behind herself.

Well, it wasn't like they had a choice. They weren't going to survive this
nightmare tide, either.

Rain sighed, and then furtively glanced at her shadow.

'...He'd better give me another Memory if I survive this. Two Memories,

even!'

Before too long, there was the sound of a war horn, and the Song Army
started the dreadful and laborious process of retreating into the vast fissure.

With how many soldiers there were in the expedition force, the process
wasn't fast, and the battle had only grown more fierce as troops were pulled
back and sent rappelling into the fissure.

The engineering corps had swiftly established moving platforms to hasten

the process, and those with Aspect Abilities that could help in the descent
were recalled to the rear.

Surrounded from all sides, the Song legions were gradually backing under
the onslaught of an endless stampede of Nightmare Creatures. If they were
too slow, they would be swallowed by the flood of abominations. If they
were too fast, the fragile formation would crumble, and countless soldiers
would be pushed into the chasm, finding gruesome deaths after a long fall.

Rivers of blood spilled onto the white surface of the ancient bone.
Through all of that, Rain and her cohort had somehow stayed alive.

Fleur had run low on essence and ceased healing the soldiers, only using
her Dormant Ability to help them stay in the fight. Ray stumbled back at
some point, miserable and cradling a grisly wound. Tamar had assumed
command of the entire centuria they were assigned to, at some point —
simply because the Ascended centurion had died, and there was nowhere
else to replace him.

Rain herself had used up all the essence stored in the Beast of Prey, felling
an especially powerful abomination with a Death Dealer shot. By then, the
front line of the legion had a few breaches in it, so she dismissed her how,
manifested the Mark of Shadows into a serpentine black tachi, and moved
forward to join the melee fighters.

She was now protecting Tamar's back as the two of them fought desperately
against the frenzied Nightmare Creatures.

Rain was controlling her soul essence with intricate finesse, which made
her capable of displaying bursts of greater strength and speed than most
Awakened could muster while spending less essence. Her swordsmanship
was precise and deadly, and her mind was in a state of clarity... that was
how he was barely managing to stay alive.

The Seventh Legion was one of: the last ones to descend into the fissure.

By then, most of the Awakened soldiers had already entered the Hollows,
and only the Saints were left on the surface, defending a much narrower
battlefront with all their might.

Rain would have loved to observe these legendary figures unleash their
powers in any other circumstances, but today, she just wanted to get away
from the fury summoned by these human monsters.

Could they even be called humans?

From the few glimpses she had caught, Saints were much closer to
demigods.
"Wake the hell up, Rani!"

Tamar, covered in monster blood and pale as a ghost, pushed her onto a
shaky wooden platform and then dragged Ray and Fleur to follow.

Around a hundred more soldiers crowded the platform, which then began to
jerkily move down. The ropes creaked, and a few moments later, the surface
of the white bone hid the battlefield from their view. Everyone felt tense,
happy to escape from the terrible battle, but also apprehensive about the
sturdiness of the platform and wary of what would happen next.

Rain let out a tired sigh, then crawled to the edge of the platform on all
fours and carefully looked down.

There, far below...

The Hollows were waiting for them, full of darkness and terror.
1917 Fast Promotion

Once the platform passed the great width of the porous hone, they were
surrounded by emptiness from all sides. The vast Hollow sprawled beneath
them, drowning in darkness. Here and there, radiant pillars of light fell from
the cracks in its dome and illuminated the ancient jungle...

No one knew what unspeakable horrors hid under its impenetrable scarlet
canopy, so the soldiers shivered, trying to distance themselves from the
edges of the platform as much as possible.

Rain simply sat on the creaking wood, trying to catch her breath. She did
look at the alien landscape below, but only for a short moment — seasoned
hunters like her knew not to stare at the Dream Realm too closely.

Lest something stared back.

She looked at Ray.

"How's your wound?"

The young man was pale and uncharacteristically quiet. Fleur was treating
him, but with how low she was on essence, the process was taking time.

The young man forced out an unconvincing smile.

"I'll live."

Then, he glanced down and paled even more.

"...Until we reach the ground, at least."

Tamar dismissed her helmet and sat down near Rain, swiping back her
sweaty hair. She scowled and looked at him with scorn.

"Why are you worried? You have escaped the Hollows before — as a mere
Sleeper and completely alone. You are an Awakened now, and we are
surrounded by an entire army."
Ray stared at her gloomily.

"Don't remind me! I still have nightmares about that day... I mean, I would
have, if I could dream..."

The other soldiers heard their conversation and turned, looking at the young
man in disbelief.

"...Is that true, Ray? You survived the Hollows as a Sleeper?"

Ray seemed startled by the question.

"What the... wait, have I not regaled you guys with the amazing story of our
chilling winter solstice? If that's the case, then — why, yes! Listen here... it
happened on a dark and gloomy night..."

He launched into the story, making Rain wince — she had heard it retold at
least a dozen times, after all, and each was more unwieldy than the previous
one. Still, she couldn't help but notice that the expressions of the soldiers
eased a little as they listened to Ray talk. All of them were frightened, and
hearing that three Sleepers had escaped from the Hollows alive gave them
some much—needed solace, and maybe even a little hope.

It was probably Tamar's reason for bringing up their winter solstice all
along. Ray had been distracted from his wound, as well.

'How sneaky.'

That girl knew how to be subtle, as well.

Soon, the platform reached the ground, and they all disembarked, looking
around with wary apprehension.

All around them, the battered soldiers of the expedition force were sprawled
on the ground, resting, or hurriedly wolfing down their rations. The
wounded were being treated, the dead or missing were being tallied and
mourned.

"Seventh Legion? Your position is right ahead!"

They were corralled to a particular area and left to their devices for a while.
No one knew how long this rest would last, so the soldiers did not waste
any time and dropped down, unpacking their provisions and dismissing
their armor to bandage shallow wounds.

Tamar‘s cohort was no different.

"What do you think the commanders will do now?"

Fleur's voice sounded subdued... but not at all meak. Rain had assumed that
the delicate girl was really soft at first, but after getting to know her better,
she realized that their sweet healer had more spine than most Awakened.

She shrugged and looked into the darkness.

"We'll know soon."

They weren't properly in the Hollows yet. The fissure the army had used to
descend here was so vast that sunshine freely poured down, and so, the
scarlet infestation in a wide area was no older than on the surface. It had
already been annihilated by the advance party led by Lady Seishan, making
the landing zone relatively safe.

But not peaceful.

The sounds of the fighting above barely reached here, but there were other
sounds reaching the makeshift camp from somewhere in the darkness —
Lady Seishan and Death Singer were currently there, facing the old
monsters of the Hollows in a bloody battle to clear a path for the army.

Deadly Nightmare Creatures in front of them, a vast horde of abominations

behind them...

The expedition force was in a perilous position.

'Well... there's not much we can do about it.'

All they could do was fill their stomachs, replenish their strength, and
prepare for battle.
Which was exactly what they did.

Half an hour later, a weary adjutant approached from deeper in the camp
and gave something to Tamar, then ran off after saying a few words. The
young Legacy remained motionless for a few moments, then sighed and sat
back down. Then, she attached a pin in the form of a blood drop to her
armor, and threw another one, this one much smaller, to Rain.

"Congratulations, Rani. I guess you're my right-hand man now, which

technically makes you a junior officer."

Rain caught the pin, raised an eyebrow, and asked in an amused tone:
"Goodness. I'm so honored I can cry. Right... what does it make you, then?"
Tamar stared at her bleakly.

"A captain. No, wait... a centurion, technically, since we're in a Royal

Legion."

Ray whistled.

"Ever the overachiever."

The entire composition of the Song Army was a bit of a mess. There were
brigades and divisions, following the unit structure borrowed from
mundane armies, but also the seven Royal Legions, which did not.

The legions consisted of centuriae, which were supposed to consist of a

hundred Awakened warriors, but were actually larger than that. In any case,
these units of Awakened were usually led by an Ascended officer, called a
centurion. Tamar wasn't the first Awakened in the Song Army who had been
given the command of a centuria, but she was definitely the youngest.

It was indeed quite an achievement.

The young Legacy did not seem too impressed, though. Instead, she
grimaced and asked in a grumbling tone:

"Whatever. Is the food ready?"

Fleur smiled.

"Coming right up!"

They ate a simple, but filling meal in silence. After that, another messenger
arrived, dropping a scattering of shimmering crystals in front of them.

Rain's eyes glistened.

'Finally!'

The crystals were, of course, soul shards.

1918 Growing Strength

The souls shards were some of those that the engineers had time to
scavenge from the corpses of the Nightmare Creatures in the recent battle.
That task was important enough that it had to be completed even in the
middle of the most terrifying clashes... after all, with every soldier that
managed to fully saturate their soul core, the strength of the Song Army
grew.

Tamar had long saturated hers, so the share of their cohort was divided three
ways between Rain, Fleur, and Ray.

Today, that meant that Rain received about a dozen shards. The rewards
were distributed according to the contribution of a cohort, and theirs always
performed exemplary... granted, in a chaotic situation like this one, no one
was actually keeping score — usually, the centurions would make reports to
legion command after the battle, and the allocation of spoils would be
decided later on. But their centurion was dead, and the battle was not even
over yet. So... Rain felt lucky to even receive anything.

All of these shards were of a higher Rank than Rain herself was, as well. It
was a sizeable boon.

Forgetting her worries for a few minutes, she concentrated on shattering the
shimmering crystals in her fist.

And look at that! She did not even need to use the pommel of her knife to
break them. Just her Awakened strength was enough.

'I'll never grow used to it...'

A stray grin somehow found its way onto Rain's face.

She had not been Awakened for long, so the novelty of possessing
superhuman strength was yet to lose its luster. She loved the feeling of
being strong, of being powerful... after all, it was the feeling of
powerlessness that had instilled into her the desire to step on the path of
Ascension all those years ago, to begin with. Rain still remembered the day
when a Nightmare Gate opened near her school clearly. The panic, the
dazed faces of the students, the teachers who tried to look calm in front of
the children, but still couldn't hide their fear.

She was supposed to die on that day, most likely. But through a twist of
fate, somehow, she survived. An Awakened warrior appeared out of
nowhere at the last moment, shielding Rain from the lunging abomination
and slaying it with a single slash of her sword.

Rain's memories of that Awakened were strangely blurry... well, it wasn't

that surprising, considering her mental stare at that moment. She vaguely
remembered a graceful black armor, a feminine silhouette, and a cold
indifference with which the unknown woman cut down one Nightmare
Creature after another, not letting a single one pass.

In the end, none of the students died. The teachers had survived, as well.
And Rain... Rain had come to know that she never wanted to feel that weak
again. For her parents, for her siblings, and for herself as well.

Her path to Awakening had been a long and brutal one. She often
complained and berated her teacher for his whimsical antics and
unreasonable demands, wondering why she was putting herself through all
that grief... but she had never once regretted her decision to strive for
strength, and had never once regretted agreeing to her teacher's offer.

Even if Rain died in this godforsaken land, she would probably still die
feeling gratified for having chosen strength over weakness. Strength... was
a bit intoxicating, like a sweet drug.

And with each soul shard she absorbed, Rain grew stronger.

The improvement was small and incremental, but noticeable... especially

now that she had already absorbed close to two hundred of them. Since
most, if not all, Nightmare Creatures in the Godgrave was of a higher Rank
than Rain, her core was supposed to be getting close to full saturation. The
same was probably true for most Awakened warriors of the Song Army, as
well.
...She was still unclear on how to Ascend without the help of the Spell, but
this increase in overall power was most welcome.

"What's that stupid grin for, Rani?"

Crushing the last soul shard, Rain glanced at Ray and winked at him.

"That? Oh, I'm just glad to be an archer. How is the frontline duty treating
you, stealth boy?"

He gritted his teeth and hissed in outrage:

"Hey! That's a low blow!"

She simply laughed.

Sadly, Rain had not laughed for long when a new command arrived, stirring
the entire camp.

"Assemble! Battle march formation! Hurry, hurry, hurry! Move!"

Tamar sighed and jumped to her feet, going about bringing their centuria to
order. The soldiers seemed a little disoriented, but not very surprised by the
sudden command — no one had expected to get a good rest in the Hollows.
But why did the orders sound so urgent?

Soon enough, they found out.

"By the dead gods..."

High above them, ant-like figures appeared on the great vine bridges that
stretched all the way to the surface, flowing down their twisting Width like
a tide. The engineers, who had been desperately trying to destroy their
roots, cursed and dashed away, dropping their tools as they ran.

It was a good decision — just a handful of seconds later, the first Nightmare
Creature fell from above, its body hitting the ancient bone with a disgusting
squelch.
The massive beast let out a shriek of agony, then struggled weakly, trying to
stand up. Although its body was terribly damaged, it was still alive.

A split second later, there was another squelch, and then another.

...Driven mad by the smell of human souls, the horde of Nightmare

Creatures was following the expedition force into the Hollows.

Rain broke her rule and stared at the flood of ant—like figures that covered
the surface of the vine bridges far above.

Her hands shook a little.

'Well... crap.'

On second thought, maybe she should have chosen weakness over strength
after all!

Then, the commanding shout of one of the Blood Sisters brought her back
to reality.

"Move!"

Barely rested, the Song Army abandoned the relative safety of the
illuminated area and marched into the darkness of the Hollows.

They were following a blood trail left by their commander, Princess

Seishan. Behind them, more and more Nightmare Creatures fell from high
above. The fastest of those abominations who managed to remain on the
vine pillars were already halfway down.

The future looked bleak, just like the dim expanse of the great Hollow
ahead.
1919 Ancient Jungle

As the army marched into the jungle, several figures plummeted from high
above to surround it. This time, however, they were not Nightmare
Creatures — although some looked quite monstrous.

Instead, they were the Saints who had been holding the abomination tide
back on the surface, and were retreating now that the enemy could not be
stalled anymore.

Some had assumed their human forms to descend safely with the help of
Memories, some were naturally able to fly while Transformed. Others
simply took the fall, relying on the nature of their bestial bodies to
withstand the damage. The thick canopy of the jungle helped cushion their
fall, somewhat, but the impacts were still chilling.

In that brief moment, Rain noticed all kinds of awesome creatures.

There was a monstrous, but eerily beautiful harpy with flood dripping from
her sharp claws and red lips. There was a giant with the head of a jackal, his
towering body the color of obsidian. There was a hill—sized canine with
three heads, his bloodied jaws powerful enough to grind mountains to dust.
There was a horrid creature that resembled a horned lion with a viper for
the tail, drops of venom dripping from its fangs.

There was even an enormous reptile with powerful hind legs and short,
underdeveloped arms, its tyrannical footsteps making the ground shake.

The Saints were battered and bleeding, their powerful bodies a map of
wounds. However, they did not seem to pay it any attention — landing on
the ground, they instantly assumed positions around the army, ready to
defend the soldiers from those inhabitants of the ancient jungle that had
survived the passage of the daughters of Ki Song.

Sadly, the expedition force was so large that even three dozen Transcendent
champions were not enough to protect everyone. The feeling of safety
provided by the sight of them was an illusion.
Rain gripped her bow nervously as the scarlet canopy obscured the distant
dome of the great Hollow.

Countless luminous Memories chased the darkness away, making it easy to

see the surroundings. The jungle of the Hollows... was both similar and
different to the one infesting the surface.

The shapes, the colors, and the smell were all the same. However, this
jungle was much more ancient, therefore, more harrowing.

The trees were many times taller, the vines were as thick as a human body,
and the moss was deep enough to swallow a person whole in some places...

Of course, to digest them.

The trees were just as hungry, and some of the vines moved like enormous
snakes, ensnaring people and rending their bodies with razor-sharp thorns.
There were blood-sucking insects the size of a human head and crawling
bugs with mandibles long enough to bite off one's foot... those moved in
swarms, of course, felling people and devouring them in a matter of
seconds. Soon enough, the jungle was filled with the rustle of weapons and
chilling screams.

The ancient jungle of the Hollows was absolutely deadly — and that was
even after Princess Seishan and Death Singer had passed here, obliterating
the most dangerous predators.

The traces of their passage were everywhere. The towering trees were
snapped and shattered, the predatory vines torn apart. The hideously torn,
enormous corpses of terrifying Nightmare Creatures were laying here and
there like dark hills of torn flesh, lakes of fetid blood pooling below them.

In some places, entire swathes of the jungle were entirely destroyed, as if a

hurricane had passed there.

Dark liquid was sipping from beneath the fallen trees.

Rain was stunned and horrified by the nightmarish reality surrounding her
at first, but quickly grew numb to it. There was no time to feel fear, anyway.

"Another one!"

She drew her bow and let an arrow loose, aiming at the buzzing of wings
above. The blood-sucking horrors hid themselves in the thick canopy of the
jungle and were too fast for an Awakened to see when they attacked —
however, she could sense their shadows, see in the darkness, and hear them.
That was just barely enough to give her a chance to hit the abominable
vermin before they killed someone.

Their elongated, blade-like mouths were already deadly enough, leaving

terrible wounds on the bodies of their victims. Much worse, they secreted
some kind of toxin that paralyzed the victim, stopping a human heart in a
matter of seconds. Usually, by the time the creature was noticed, it was
already too late.

But not this time.

A blurry silhouette shot toward the marching soldiers from high above, but
was intercepted by her arrow in the air. The wings and the carapace of these
creatures were so tough that her enchanted bow couldn't even put a dent in
them, but the soft belly was somewhat vulnerable.

Hit by the arrow, the blood—sucker lost balance and fell to the ground.
Immediately, the Awakened soldiers rushed at it.

Their Memories were not powerful enough to kill the creature, so they
struggled to immobilize it instead — special wire nets were thrown over the
appalling insect, which it promptly tore apart and escaped. Luckily, the
delay was enough for one of the Ascended to appear, shattering the
creature's carapace with a devastating strike of their heavy mace.

At that time...

Not too far away, a soldier was screaming as he found himself drowning in
the scarlet patch of moss. His comrades managed to pull him free, but by
then, his lower legs had already dissolved in the digestive fluid.

At the same time...

A tall tree shook, and a rain of vermilion leaves fell from its branches. Each
leaf was like a serrated blade, easily slicing through enchanted armor, flesh,
and bone. A dozen soldiers fell to the ground, bleeding — some of them
dead, some gravely wounded. Both the dead and the living were then pulled
underground by the roots that emerged from beneath. Other humans tried to
dig them up, but it was useless.

At the same time...

A vine covered in beautiful flowers released a cloud of scarlet pollen into

the air, and a few soldiers that were not fast enough to escape dropped their
weapons to the ground, walking into the red haze with empty expressions.
By the time the pollen dissipated, they were gone — vanished without a
trace, with not even footprints hinting at what might have happened to
them. Rain covered her mouth with a hand, looking around with horror.

'This... this is hell. It must be.'

All around the marching army, the Saints were engaged in desperate battles
with the Great abominations that emerged from the jungle from time to
time, attracted by the smell of human souls.

And behind the army, the tide of Nightmare Creatures was drawing closer
with each minute, threatening to catch up with the formation's tail.

Surrounded and pursued, the warriors of Song marched toward the distant
Citadel.
1920 Marching Through Hell

Eventually, the already dire situation turned into absolute chaos.

The horde of Nightmare Creatures had caught up with the expedition force,
and the rear of the formation became engrossed in a moving battle. Several
Saints led the defensive efforts, slaughtering the menacing abominations
with all their might.

The death toll among the Nightmare Creatures was high, but the soldiers
were suffering heavy casualties, as well.

Luckily — or perhaps unfortunately — the mad frenzy of the pursuing

Nightmare Creatures had caused a destructive chain reaction in the
Hollows. The local predators were overcome by hunger and bloodlust at the
sight of human troops, but they weren't happy to see the numerous
abominations from the surface invade their territory, either.

To the Great Ones inhabiting the ancient jungle, the weak surface dwellers
were nothing but prey, just like humans were.

For that reason, the pursuing horde suffered a terrifying massacre when
appalling silhouettes lunged into it from the jungle. The ancient predators
grew mad from the stench of blood, slaughtering everything they could see
with chilling cruelty... a few of them fell, too, buried under an avalanche of
hideous monsters.

The internal strife between the rightful rulers of the Hollows and the
invading surface dwellers alleviated some of the pressure on the army, but
not a lot of it. The expedition force was still bleeding lives -— not a
staggering number of them, but more than ever before.

The people trapped in this morbid hell soon found themselves missing the
unpredictable and inescapable radiance of the deadly sky. Who would have
thought?

Rain, meanwhile...
Was missing the weird antics and ridiculous stories of her teacher.

In the past four years, she had lived through plenty of frightening situations.
Hunting Nightmare Creatures as a mundane girl was not a safe vocation,
after all... but he was always there, with her, talking her through the difficult
ordeals and taking care of her when she felt lost.

He was still with her, hiding in her shadow, but because they were
surrounded by thousands of soldiers, her teacher could not speak.

Even though Rain would never admit it, she would have loved to hear him
tell an outrageously nonsensical story with a straight face right now.

'Let's see...'

Breathing heavily, she helped Tamar deal with a monstrous tick that had
lunged at them from a branch and assessed how much essence she had left.

One benefit of not having an Aspect was that she rarely ran low on it, unlike
other Awakened. So, Rain was doing quite fine, for now.

'What would he say in this situation?'

Probably something like...

"What, this? This is nothing! Have I told you about that time I climbed into
a Cursed Terror's nest and stole its egg? l was actually looking for tasty fruit
to treat someone special, but that nest was in the way..."

Actually, he might have actually told her that one.

Or...

"The Hollows? Oh, I've been there. On a date, of sorts. With Lady
Changing Star. Who is my girlfriend..."

Despite the dreadful situation, Rain smiled crookedly.

'Yeah, right.'
She could actually believe that her teacher had stolen from a Cursed Terror
once — he did look like the kind of scoundrel to attempt such lunacy — but
that last one was too laughably ridiculous even by his standards.

Manifesting another arrow in her enchanted quiver, she nocked it on the

string of her bow and took a deep breath.

'Let's just survive. Believe in Lady Seishan... she will not lead her army to
certain doom.'

If not because she was a virtuous leader...

Then at least because she needed that army to fight the forces of the Sword
Domain in the future.

'The Citadel must not be that far, by now.'

And it wasn't.

Some time later, the Seventh Legion was sent to the rear of the formation.
They steeled their hearts and plunged into the bloodshed, retreating slowly
while holding back the frenzied mob of Nightmare Creatures. The Saints
were fighting some distance away, breaking the tide, while the soldiers
served as the shield of the formation.

In some ways, it was much more dangerous here, in the rear of the escaping
army — that was because the abominations were numerous and driven to
utter madness both by their lust for human souls and by the terror of the
Great Ones rampaging in the horde far behind.

Between the ancient rulers of the Hollows and the human soldiers,
countless Nightmare Creatures had already been slain, and more were dying
each minute. But in other ways, fighting against them was much safer than
marching further into the army formation. That was because most of the
dangers hiding in the ancient jungle — like the blood-sucking horrors, the
razor—sharp falling leaves, the man—eating patches of moss, and the
clouds of scarlet pollen — would be dealt with or at least discovered by
those who marched in the front.
After withstanding the flood of abominations for a while, the Seventh
Legion was rotated to the head of the column.

By then, the army had almost caught up with the daughters of Ki Song.

Rain and the other legionnaires dragged their tired bodies to the front of the
formation, where they were supposed to get a little rest. Since Lady Seishan
and Death Singer were so close, the jungle was safer than before — its
inhabitants had just been slaughtered by the Transcendent princesses, and
those pests that had survived were hiding, afraid to attract their attention.

Finally, they caught sight of their general.

Lady Seishan was standing on the trunk of a fallen tree, her crimson dress
ripped and soaked in blood. Her eyes were sunken, and a dark smile was
twisting her alluring red lips.

Her sister was leaning on the trunk, huddled and covering her face with the
hood of her black robe.

Rain was curious to know what they were looking at.

Up ahead, behind the fallen tree, the jungle receded, revealing a vast
clearing. And there, in the distance...

She could finally see the Citadel.

1921 Stuff of Legends

There, in front of them, the jungle parted and revealed a vast expanse of
white bone. It was almost completely flooded, but the water was so shallow
that it would barely reach a human's shins. Most stunningly of all, the
flooded clearing was completely devoid of the scarlet infestation — there
were no trees, no Vines, no grass, no moss...

It was as if the ancient jungle was afraid of getting any closer to the dark
hill that towered in the heart of the empty expanse and reeled back in fear.

The hill itself was tall and strangely shaped, its slopes dark and barren.
From time to time, strange ripples spread from it across the shallow water,
reaching all the way to the edge of the jungle. As if something enormous
was breathing somewhere out there, behind the hill, the measured weight of
its breaths reverberating in the ancient bones.

Rain and her cohort were not far away from the fallen tree on which Lady
Seishan stood, so she caught a good look at her.

At that moment, the regal Saintess turned around, looking down at her sister
from the considerable height of the ancient trunk.

Standing above the battered masses of the Seventh Legion, she was like a
sinister deity. Her otherworldly beauty was both breathtaking and chilling
— Princess Seishan looked subtly inhuman because of her silken grey skin,
and the lower half of her exquisite face was smeared by crimson blood, as if
she had been tearing the Great Nightmare Creatures apart with her teeth.

She looked like a malevolent spirit summoned into the world by a great
blood sacrifice.

...Despite that, Rain found herself calming down at the sight of the graceful
princess. Her heart was overcome by a soothing sense of tranquility, and
she felt her fears dissipating.
The feeling of peace and safety was like a breath of fresh air in the
sweltering heat of this dark, dreadful hell.

However, Rain felt strangely disturbed.

Because, to her... it did not feel like the healing kind of tranquil calmness.
Instead, it was like the kind of false relaxation that deadly predators
instilled in their Drev before sinking their fangs into the victim's flesh.

'Still, this predator is on our side. That's good... right?'

Lady Seishan, meanwhile, spoke to her sister in a pleasant, velvety voice:

"What do you sense, Hel?"

Death Singer, who was leaning on the fallen tree with her head down,
flinched and looked up. Her hood slipped, revealing her luscious hair and
lovely face.

At the moment, however, that face was contorted by a terrible grimace. Her
beautiful eyes were wide, full of fear.

"D—death... death is coming! Our blood will flow like a river, our flesh
will fester and rot, our eyes will be eaten by hungry ravens, our viscera will
become a feast for maggots! There will be no hope, no escape, no relief, no
salvation... death is coming! It's here!"

Hearing that terrible prophecy, Rain shuddered. Even Tamar seemed to pale,
gripping the hilt of her zweihander tighter.

Lady Seishan, however, seemed unperturbed. She smiled and nodded

patiently.

"Yes, yes. You've been saying that since we were in the orphanage. I'm sure
we will die one day, you and I... but what about now? What do you sense
now?"

Death Singer stared at her sister for a few moments, her face a mask of
terror. Then, she suddenly sighed and shook her head.
"Oh, that. Well..."

The petite princess frowned and scratched the back of her head clumsily.
After a while, she said in a nonchalant tone:

"It's a Great Demon, I guess."

Death Singer might have been nonchalant, but every soldier that heard her
shuddered.

Rain did, as well.

'Crazy... this is crazy!‘

What the hell was she doing here, in a Death Zone, hearing about Great
Demons? Great Nightmare Creatures were something that humans
theoretically knew existed, but were never supposed to encounter. They
were the stuff of legends — the kind of legends that were too terrifying to
retell in the darkness. Great abominations were synonymous with death
from before Rain was born...

The regions of the Dream Realm where they dwelled were called Death
Zones for a reason!

But now, the rules and laws that had seemed inviolable were swiftly
changing. Supreme humans were out there in the world, and people like
Rain suddenly found themselves brushing sides with Great Nightmare
Creatures.

She had already seen several dead ones in the jungle, and had caught
glimpses of several more rampaging in the horde of the weaker
abominations.

But at least those terrible beings were mere Beasts and Monsters.

A Demon... a Demon was a different kind of being.

Because demons were intelligent, and possessed their own malignant wills.
'D—damnation...'

Out of everyone, only Lady Seishan remained calm.

She turned her bloodied face to gaze at the distant hill once more, remained
silent for a few moments, and then nodded.

"So it is. Well, then... warriors of the Song Army, hear my order!"

Her crimson dress moved in the wind as she spoke in a melodious voice:

"Fortify this position and hold fast. Hel, Siord, Ceres — with me! We will
claim this Citadel... in the name of the Queen!"

Death Singer signed again, straightened her dark robe, and jumped onto the
fallen tree. At the same time, Lady Seishan jumped down — the trunk was
several meters tall even laying on its side, so Rain did not see her land into
the shallow water, only heard the splash.

A moment later, two Saints joined the daughters of Ki Song on the edge of
the clearing — one of them was the beautiful harpy Rain had seen before,
the other was the three —headed canine.

From what she knew, both were scions of the lesser Legacy Clans, like
Tamar, and had attained Sainthood together with Lady Seishan as members
of her cohort.

Soon, the four Saints disappeared in the direction of the distant hill.

And a few moments later...

The bill suddenly moved, slowly stirring and unfurling its immense limbs.

Rain stared at it in horror for a moment, then forced herself to look away
and lowered her gaze.

As it turned out... the Great Demon had not been hiding behind the bill. It
was the hill — a gargantuan beast that had been slumbering in the middle of
the vast clearing, and was now waking up at the smell of Transcendent
souls.

Rain took a shaky breath and thought about the four brave Saints.

'...May Beast God help them from beyond the grave.'

Clan Song seemed to have a close bond with beasts and hunting, so she
thought this prayer would be suitable.

Rain considered praying for herself, too.

She was quite sure that if Lady Seishan failed to conquer the Citadel and
perished, the rest of the expedition force would perish as well.

'Oh well...'

At least she had her personal dark deity to pray to.

1922 Not a Last Stand

Now that the dreadful march was over, the battered expedition force found
itself in a somewhat better position.

The flooded clearing was effectively defending them from one side, which
meant that they would not be surrounded, at least. With that, the army could
assemble into a stable battle formation.

It was truly a miracle of perseverance and discipline that they had managed
to maintain a semblance of order and keep themselves from being
decimated by the enemy while fighting their way through the nightmarish
jungle — but armies were not meant to fight battles while moving.

Finally reaching their destination, the Song Army came to a halt and spread
along the edges of the flooded plain, building a proper battle line. It had two
layers, so that forward units could rotate back and give way to fresh troops
— then switch again after a period of rest. A field hospital was being hastily
arranged behind the two layers, as well.

By then, the stalwart Saints already cut down the terrifying predators who
had lunged at the expedition force from the flanks during the march. Those
were the true rulers of the Hollows, old abominations of the Great Rank —
luckily, there were far fewer of them than the Saints, so the champions of
the human army were able to team up and bring each of the monsters down
in groups of three or four.

Many were wounded, but none had perished yet... the situation might have
been different if not for Lady Seishan and Princess Hel, though, who had
culled the rulers of the scarlet jungle on their way to the Citadel. Now, the
Saints were free to assume positions in front of the battle line, serving as its
pillars and anchors. In any case, the situation of the Song Army, while still
resembling a hellish nightmare, was much better than before.

However, it was also much more perilous than before, because their fates
now depended on the success of Lady Seishan and her party. If the Great
Demon guarding the Citadel triumphed, then every advantage gained by the
expedition force would turn to ash. The Demon would attack the battle
formation from the rear, and they would be devoured from two sides.

Of course...

First, the army had to survive long enough to learn who prevailed in the
battle for the Citadel.

'It's going to be fine. Yeah... definitely...‘

Rain stared at the approaching tide of Nightmare Creature with

apprehension, trying to convince herself that the current preparations of the
Song Army did not resemble getting ready for a heroic last stand.

Lost in a godforsaken hell, suffocated by sweltering heat, their back pressed

against the territory of a Great Demon, and facing an endless flood of
Nightmare Creatures — that definitely sounded like prime material for an
inspiring and tear-inducing ballad that would be sung through the ages. But
Rain didn't want to be sung about... he would much rather survive.

Heroes were very admirable, but they were also very dead. She had no
aspirations of becoming a hero.

'Damn it.‘

"Archers! "

The Seventh Legion was currently on the frontline, preparing to clash with
the vanguard of the nightmare horde. The Blood Sisters — there were
around a dozen of them — were very noticeable among the centurions with
their red garments and striking beauty. Seeing them gave the soldiers some
confidence, and it was these women who commanded the legion in the
absence of Lady Seishan.

So, the voice that called upon the ranged specialists to unleash their fury on
the approaching horde was rather melodious, making the grim scene feel
less horrid.
Rain drew her bow, took aim, and let an arrow loose. With how numerous
the Nightmare Creatures were, one would think that she did not have to aim
too well in order to hit something... but sadly, that was not the case.
Because her arrows were not powerful enough to pierce the hides of the
abominations, she had to strike them precisely in a weak spot.

Which was why the horde was not slowed down at all by the devastating
barrage of arrows, various projectiles, and Aspect Abilities unleashed by the
human army. It was like mundane archers showering heavily armored
cavalry with arrows — a few abominations stumbled and fell, but most
remained unscathed. Worst still, the Nightmare Creatures were not at all
deterred by these losses.

Soon after, they crashed into the battle formation.

Rain continued to shoot, trying to remain stable on the quaking ground. In

front of her, the tide of monsters broke against the Saints, flowed past them,
and reached the front line of the Seventh Legion. Tamar and Ray were in
front of her, surrounded by the Awakened warriors of their centuria —
which was in a worse situation than most because it lacked an Ascended,
but luckily positioned well. Some distance from them, the Saint who
Transcendent form was that of a giant reptile towered above the flood of
Nightmare Creatures. It lowered its neck and snapped its jaws, eviscerating
several of them at the same time, then swiped its long tail sideways,
crushing even more.

An especially large beast jumped on its back, but the tyrannical reptile
simply snapped its jaws once more, grabbing it and throwing the bleeding
corpse flying hundreds meters back with a jerk of its head.

Then, it let out a chilling roar and plunged further into the horde of
abominations.

'...The bow is useless.‘

Now that the Nightmare Creatures had closed in, it was harder for her to hit
anything with an arrow. The situation might have been different if they were
in an open field, but the jungle blocked her line of sight, while the thick
canopy prevented her from shooting over the heads of her comrades.

Cursing, Rain dismissed the Beast of Prey and let her snake tattoo turn into
a black tachi once again. Gritting her teeth, she left Fleur and advanced
forward. Hack, slash, pierce... block, dodge, evade.

The damned Nightmare Creatures were too strong!

She could barely cut their hide, and it took dozens of strikes to bring a
single one down. Rain herself, however, would be either dead or crippled
from receiving just one blow, which made the whole situation incredibly
frightening, to the point that she felt sick to her stomach.

The humid air was permeated by the terrible stench of blood, and
everywhere she looked, she saw nothing but terrible maws, sharp fangs, and
frenzied eyes. All around her, Awakened were uniting in small groups, each
fighting against a single Nightmare Creature. Rain herself was fighting with
Tamar and Ray, the three of them sharing an unspoken understanding on
how to deal with the dreadful enemies.

Their cohort might not have been together for long, but Tamar was a
competent leader, while Rain was very experienced despite having only just
Awakened. So, from the point of View of others, she was simply extremely
competent in everything she did. She was a fierce fighter herself, a good
partner for others in a battle, and also a bit of a mentor to her three slightly
younger companions in many practical matters.

Not to mention her unbelievable ability to survive in the wilderness and

make herself and her cohort comfortable in any environment.

The entire centuria rallied around their small cohort, withstanding the flood
of Nightmare Creatures with desperate resolve.

Hideous corpses of the abominations fell to the ground.

Human corpses fell, too.

Rivers of blood flowed down, seeping into the shallow water of the flooded
clearing and painting it red.

Far away, the gargantuan figure of the Great Demon was moving, its
footsteps making the red water surge in foaming waves.
1923 Dwindling Hope

"Just... die, damn you!"

Rain staggered back, supporting the blade of her tachi with a hand to block
a descending stinger — its speed was so great that she had barely managed
to react in time, and its force was so terrible that she was thrown back a
dozen meters.

Her arms felt numb.

When fighting Nightmare Creatures of a superior Rank, blocking was really

not a good idea. But the damned thing was so fast that there was simply no
time for her to move out of the way.

Luckily, she had done her job.

A split second after Rain was tossed back, 'l‘amar's zweihander plummeted
on the tail of the abomination, striking precisely at the spot where its armor
had already been broken. The severed stinger fell to the ground in a flood of
fetid blood, and the monstrous creature turned threateningly toward the
young centurion, its claws flying forward at lightning speed.

Tamar had no time to disengage and dash to the side — she simply stepped
on air and leaped over the claws, then did so again. This time, the invisible
platform seemed to be situated perpendicular to the ground, so he threw her
body sideways instead of up, twisting and landing in a slide.

The Nightmare Creature was already lunging at her, but at that moment,
Ray — whom it had not noticed, blinded by pain — jumped onto its
carapace and drove his sword through its eye.

The abomination convulsed and fell, moving weekly. It was still alive, but
completely dazed — the three Awakened rushed forward and unleashed a
barrage of attacks, eventually finishing it off.

All three were breathing heavily, barely enduring their exhaustion — and
that was despite the occasional infusion of stamina from Fleur.
The rest of the soldiers were faring even worse.

Rain shivered, noticing that another Nightmare Creature was already

barreling in their direction.

'Just how many...'

The ground was already littered with so many corpses that it was hard to
see the scarlet moss beneath. They couldn't go on much longer.

Luckily, at that moment, the familiar, reassuring voice of the Blood Sister
reached them like the most beautiful melody in the world:

"Seventh Legion! Retreat!"

'l‘heir turn on the frontline was over... this turn, at least.

The legion retreated in an orderly manner, and at the same time, another
brigade advanced between their ranks.

Soon, their backs hid the battlefield from Rain's view, and she let out a
relieved sigh.

Moving back almost all the way to the edge of the water, the Seventh
Legion came to a halt. The soldiers fell to the ground where they stood,
shell—shocked, exhausted, and covered in blood. Some dismissed their
armor despite the dire danger — the heat was just too unbearable, and they
were all drowning in sweat.

Everyone was dehydrated, so the first thing many did was greedily drink
water from their canteens.

Rain was no exception.

"Ah..."

After drinking her share, she finally felt alive again.

While Fleur was tending to their wounds — all minor, fortunately -— and
infusing them with refreshing vitality, the three members of the cohort who
had actively participated in the melee remained silent. Honestly, they were
too stunned by the magnitude and ferocity of the violence, too dazed, and
too tired to talk.

Even Tamar, who had been programmed to always maintain composure by

her clan, seemed subdued and shaken.

None of them had died yet, at least. The same could not be said about most
other cohorts. The number of slain Nightmare Creatures was incalculable,
but the casualties suffered by the Song Army were also heavy.

'...It is not a last stand.'

Rain knew that it wasn't, but it seemed like one more and more with each
passing minute.

The Seventh Legion had fought well during their first rotation, and during
the second, too. However... during the third, the tired soldiers started to
make more and more mistakes. As a result, more and more of them died.

They had just finished the fifth rotation, and the situation was starting to
look bleak — not just for them, but for the entire army.

The warriors of Song were desperate, exhausted, and slowly succumbing to

fear. Their morale had especially plummeted when one of the Saints — the
one whose Transformation resembled a horned lion with a venomous viper
for the tail — finally fell, debilitated by countless wounds, and was
immediately swallowed by the tide of Nightmare Creatures. Like that, the
Song Army lost its first Transcendent champion.

Watching a Saint die was a shock to everyone... not only because they were
watching the death of a living legend, but also because it forced the soldiers
to ask themselves a simple question.

If even demigods were dying, then what hope did mere mortals like them
have? Rain threw a glance at her shadow, drawing strength from it, then
turned to the flooded clearing and stared into the distance with a detached
expression.

The battle had been unbearably hard on the army, lasting an eternity... she
couldn't imagine how Lady Seishan and her team could still be alive while
fighting a Great Demon, but they were, continuing the devastating battle.

Even though it was taking place too far to discern the silhouettes of the
daughters of Ki Song, everyone in the second layer of the battle formation
could turn around and look at the flooded plain to see the massive shape of
the Demon moving across the water, making it surge and boil.

At some point — Rain did not know when — the water, which had been
clear and transparent before, had turned entirely red, like a lake of blood.
Some of it was because of the blood flowing from the shore where the Song
Army was fighting, but most of it... she had no idea where it had come
from.

Something flashed in the distance, and a few moments later, the echo of a
terrifying roar reached them from afar. The ground quaked, and the lake of
blood surged, a tall wave crashing into the low shore.

The Queen's daughters were still fighting the Great Demon.

1924 Pit of Despair

In the middle of the flooded clearing, Song Seishan was standing in the
crimson water, looking at the gargantuan creature in front of her with a
twisted smile. Her eyes were shining with an eerie red glow in the dim
darkness of the Hollows, and her long braid was fluttering in the wind that
had risen from the Demon's last attack.

The Great One was like a mountain, its mighty body covered by bristling
black fur. Its body was not quite bestial, but also not quite human... the
creature was like an abominable ape, its fangs protruding like cliffs, its eyes
burning with diabolical cunning and murderous fury. It was wielding a great
club made out of bone, and each time it struck the ground, the entire world
quaked.

Siord, the beautiful harpy, was playing a deadly game of cat and mouse
with the demonic ape by flying around its head, barely dodging its
obliterating attacks. Ceres, the enormous three-headed canine, was in an
even more precarious position, dancing between the abomination's feet and
trying to tear pieces of flesh out of its shins.

Neither had managed to deliver even a single wound to the Great Demon,
yet. However, the Demon was bleeding.

Opening its maw, the terrifying creature let out a deafening roar and
shuddered, forgetting about the annoying fly and the three—headed pest for
a moment. Then, it vomited a terrifying waterfall of blood.

Blood was flowing from its mouth, from its nose... even from the corners of
its eyes, spilling into the shallow water like a red river.

That was because Seishan was using her Awakened Ability. It had taken a
while for her Ability to take effect, considering how powerful her enemy
was... but she wasn't powerless, either.

If anything, the most difficult part was limiting the area of effect of her
Ability to spare her allies from sharing the same fate as the Demon.
The intoxicating smell of blood was driving her mad, and at the same time
making her many times stronger — standing in the middle of a lake of
blood spilled by a Great abomination, Seishan was infused with a raging
inferno of hungry, furious power. It was the scaling augmentation granted
by her Ascended Ability.

It was partially because of that power that she had been able to move with
stunning speed to evade the Demon's earth—shattering attacks and recover
from the terrible wounds littering her body, staying alive despite how vast
the gap between her and the guardian of the Citadel was.

The second reason was her Transformation Ability.

Seishan had possessed the ability to turn into a monster from the time she
was a young Sleeper, lost in the darkness of the Forgotten Shore. Therefore,
she had not gained the ability to Transform into something else when
attaining Transcendence...

Instead, she had gained the ability to Transform others — those she
transformed became stronger, and their strength could enhance her own
power in turn.

And finally, the third reason was the blood of Beast God that flowed in her
veins, bestowed upon her — whether she had wanted it or not — by her
mother... the Raven Queen.

And then, there was her Flaw.

Seishan grinned and dashed forward, flying above the red water with
stunning speed. The infuriated Demon swatted Siord away and kicked
Ceres with devastating might, sending the giant canine flying like a tiny
pup. Both Saints crashed into the shallow water, their bodies bleeding and
broken.

After that, she was the sole target of the Great One's fury.

'Ah...'
The enormous bone club crashed into the ground, displacing countless tons
of water and making the world shake. Seishan never slowed down, pivoting
and then leaping gracefully. Before the displaced water could even start
raining down, she already landed on the surface of the club and rushed
across its surface, ascending hundreds of meters above the clearing in a
heartbeat.

Her polished nails turned into terrifying claws, and the red glow of her eyes
turned furious and predatory, full of murderous intent.

Sadly...

She knew that she could not kill the Great Demon.

Maybe if she had time to observe and study the abomination, learning its
strengths and weaknesses, gaining a thorough understanding of its powers,
and getting insight into the way its perverse mind worked, she would stand
a chance.

But she was forced to attack it blindly, without making any targeted
preparations, so her chances were close to zero. Just the sheer size of the
abominations was already an obstacle — not to mention every unholy trait
and Attribute that thing possessed.

Siord and Ceres were severely wounded and would not be joining the fight
again.

...But that was alright.

There was a reason why Seishan survived the longest out of anyone who
had ever been sent to the Forgotten Shore. That reason was that she knew
how to find a way out of the most desperate situation... and then drown her
enemies in the pit of despair she had escaped.

Right now, for example, there was little chance of defeating the Great
Demon. Therefore, there was no reason to try.
Instead, her goal was simply to draw its attention — which she had already
done — and stall it for a while.

After all, they had not come here to slay a Great Demon.

They had come here to conquer a Citadel.

And while Seishan was dancing with death by enduring the wrath of the
dreadful abomination, her sister Hel was sneaking into the Citadel to claim
its Gateway. The Great Demon raised its club, lifting Seishan ever higher
above the surface of the water.

For a moment, she was level with its enormous head, and saw the waterfalls
of blood flowing from its maw and nostrils.

She shivered, feeling her Flaw call upon her from somewhere deep, deep
within. Seishan licked her alluring red lips.

'Ah. I want to taste it…'

***

"Advance!"

The battered Seventh Legion rushed forward once again. The retreating
soldiers stumbled between them, bleeding and barely staying upright. Their
pale faces and sunken eyes were full of numb terror.

Reaching the frontline, Rain saw a carpet of corpses covering the ground
everywhere she looked. Most belonged to hideous Nightmare Creatures, but
many were those of humans — some sickeningly mangled, some strangely
intact.

There were so many dead that the ancient jungle seemed unable to swallow
them all, its profane hunger satiated for the first time in eons.

'Curse it all…'
The Song Army was still holding fast, but its breaking point was drawing
close. Once they reached it and the battle line collapsed, an even more
harrowing slaughter would take place, and all of them would be devoured
by the rampaging of Nightmare Creatures.

"Stay alive! Forward, together! For the Queen!"

Tamar's shout brought her back to her senses.

Gripping the hilt of her black tachi, Rain gritted her teeth and braced
herself.

A moment later, the Nightmare Creatures were upon them.

'Hopeless. It is hopeless…'

No matter how much they fought, no matter how much they killed, no
matter how much they died... the flood of abominations would not end.

And these Nightmare Creatures were the lesser evil, at that. Even if the
expedition force somehow managed to eradicate them all, the true horrors
of the Hollows would soon arrive, attracted by the overwhelming smell of
blood.

Rain felt a chilling shiver run down her spine when she realized that she
could, indeed, die here today.

Her sweat turned cold, and she drew in a shaky breath.

And then...

Something imperceptible changed about the world.

It was as if the sweltering heat of Godgrave receded a little, and a cool

breeze gently caressed her skin.

Rain was not just imagining it, either. She could see her fellow soldiers
react to the strange change, too.
Even the Nightmare Creatures were affected. Their ceaseless onslaught
turned slower, for a moment, and then lulled.

'What...'

Confused and struggling to believe what she was seeing, Rain stared at the
abominations. The abominations had actually stopped, and were now
sniffing the air, growling, and... and...

It almost seemed as though some of them were cowering in fear.

...Far behind her, in the middle of the flooded clearing, the gargantuan Great
Demon noiselessly fell down.

And, at the same time...

Rain froze in terror.

The countless corpses littering the vast swath of the jungle all moved at the
same time.

The dead Nightmare Creatures, the fallen humans... they all stirred, moved,
and then slowly rose from the ground.

Far behind her, the slain Great Demon was rising from the bloody water, as
well, its dead eyes staring forward with no emotion.

Rain took a step back, her face turning even paler than usual.

'The... the Queen...'

A moment later, the legion of the dead came alive, tearing into the
nightmare horde.

Soon after that, the battle was over.

The Queen of Worms had finally arrived to Godgrave.

1925 Missing Oracle

Far away, Sunny — his original body, donning the guise of the charming
Master Sunless — was sitting on the edge of the Ivory Island with a
resigned smile on his face, suffering in silence.

'D—amn... nation. Its torture.'

His nose was itching.

It had been itching for what felt like an eternity already, but sadly, he could
not scratch it. He could not move at all, really, because the Cloudveil was
torn above the warcamp of the Song Army, drowning the world in a
blinding white light.

The camp stretched below him, resembling a city — there was no

movement on the orderly avenues, and the countless people populating it
had all turned into motionless statues. Their silhouettes were like black
shadows painted on the blurry white backdrop, melting in the stark
radiance.

Mercifully, that was simply because his eyes were tearing up, not because
they were turning to ash.

Now that Saint Tyris had left to accompany the expedition force on its quest
to conquer the Citadel, the main camp of the Sword Army had lost her
protection. That was why everyone had been forced to learn how to survive
the annihilating gaze of the incandescent abyss —now, several weeks later,
people rarely died when the clouds parted.

Of course, there were measures in place to alert them of the imminent

danger in advance.

Sunny was not entirely sure how that was achieved, but there were
countless talents in the Sword Domain, both mundane and Awakened. He
did not doubt that someone would have come up with a method to predict
the movement of clouds — granted, the warnings rarely came more than a
minute before the cloudbreak, so the method clearly still required some
improvement.

This time, the clouds parted while Sunny was searching for Cassie, leaving
him no choice but to sit down and patiently wait for the danger to pass. It
had been close to an hour since then, and the grey veil was finally starting
to show signs of repairing itself.

Ten minutes later, the blinding radiance finally subsided, and Sunny
furiously scratched his nose.

"Ah... damn it..."

He wondered if anyone in Godgrave had died from sneezing yet, then rose
to his feet and looked around.

Sunny had already checked everywhere on the Ivory Island, including the
underground level of the Ivory Tower and Cassie's personal quarters. He
had checked every cabin of the Chain Breaker, as well, and asked around
among the Fire Keepers.

No one had seen the blind seer, which could only mean one thing — that
she was performing her duties as the Seneschal of the Great Clan Valor
somewhere in the camp.

Unless something out of the ordinary had happened...

Frowning, he walked over to one of the seven chains anchoring the Ivory
Island to the ground and descended by walking across it. Sunny was
reluctant to unleash his shadow sense here, so his best choice was to go
check personally.

Fortunately, Valor Keep — the stone stronghold that served as the

headquarters of the Sword Army and the residence of the King — was not
far. He reached it in a matter of minutes and hesitated at the entrance,
feeling uncomfortable under the dubious gazes of the guards.
The thing was... Sunny had only ever entered the Keep while accompanying
either Nephis or Cassie. He had never been here alone, and wasn't sure if he
was even allowed inside.

Clearing his throat, he hesitated for a moment, cringed inwardly, and

addressed the guards in a commanding tone:

"I am Sir Sunless, Knight Commander of the Ardent Wardens. Move aside."

'Gods, I actually said it...'

The guards stared at him some more. Eventually, one of them sneered.

"Oh, yes. We know precisely who you are... Sir Sunless."

The derision in his voice was not even hidden, but the guards did move
aside.

Sunny glowered at them for a moment, then walked into the gate.

Halfway across the threshold, however, he halted, backed a few steps, and
looked at the rude guard for a moment.

Then, a pleasant smile appeared on his face.

"...Do you, perhaps, want to challenge me to a duel?"

The guard paled a little, shivered, and slowly shook his head.

"N—no... Knight Sunless, sir."

Sunny's smile brightened menacingly.

"Thought so."

With that, he entered the stronghold without looking back.

Nephis was gone from the camp, as well, so people were getting braver as
far as showing him their contempt was concerned. Sunny did not really
mind, but it was starting to get tiresome. Perhaps it was time to teach them
another lesson in humility...

But not now.

Sighing, Sunny found the nearest person wearing the colors of Clan Valor
and inquired if Song of the Fallen was nearby.

He had not really expected a positive answer, but to his surprise, the man
simply nodded and gave him directions to a certain chamber in the depths
of the keep.

The chamber was guarded by several Knights, which gave him pause.
Although nothing showed on his face, Sunny felt his whole body tense up
for a moment, and his heart started to race.

Were these Ascended guards sent to protect Cassie as a sign of how highly
she was valued by Clan Valor... or were they here to make sure that she
couldn't escape? Was there a sorcerous cage inside the chamber that cut off
her powers, similar to the one in which the two of them had spent an
unforgettable time in the Night Temple?

This was the burden of being a double agent for a regicidal insurgency...
Sunny never knew if he was one heartbeat away from having his treasonous
ways revealed.

He lingered for a moment, then asked with decorum:

"Is Saint Cassia inside?"

One of the Knights looked down at him sternly... then nodded and turned
around to knock on the door politely.

"You have a visitor, my lady."

Hearing Cassie's response, he opened the door and let Sunny inside.

The chamber was sparsely furnished, but quite comfortable. There was a
soft sofa, several armchairs, a wooden table with succulent fruit and
refreshments, and even a Memory keeping the air cool, not to mention a
few bottles of beverages from the waking world. Vermilion curtains moved
slightly in the wind, and sunlight was pouring through a narrow window.

Cassie was half-sitting, half-laying on the sofa, her beautiful face showing
signs of extreme fatigue. One of the hands was lowered powerlessly, while
the other was holding a silver goblet.

Sunny was worried for a moment, then determined that there were no
wounds on her body and let out a sigh of relief.

The blind seer, meanwhile, turned her head in his direction.

"...Who is it?"

He frowned.

Shouldn't she know already?

Then again... their mental link seemed to be inactive, which meant that
Cassie's Ascended Ability was suppressed, for some reason. If the same was
true for her Awakened Ability, which allowed her to sense what would
happen a few seconds in the future, then she would be truly and utterly
blind.

Sunny's frown deepened.

"It's me, Saint Cassia. Master Sunless."

He threw a glance at her Ascended guards and unceremoniously closed the

door. That would not prevent them from eavesdropping on their
conversation, but it was better than nothing.

A pale smile illuminated Cassie's face.

"Sunny... it's good that you're here. I was just thinking about asking
someone to escort me back to the Ivory Island."
Sunny took a deep breath, considered his thoughts for a moment, and then
asked bluntly:

"What happened to you?"

He thought that he already knew the answer. In hindsight, it was quite

obvious.

Cassie sighed, then dropped her head on the soft armrest of the sofa.

Her voice was a little tired:

"...Essence exhaustion."
1926 Enhanced Interrogation

A few moments later, Sunny led Cassie out of the stronghold. Since she was
currently robbed of all her Abilities except for the Dormant one, she once
again turned into the helpless girl he had once guided across the Forgotten
Shore... which was both nostalgic and a little heartbreaking to see.

Sunny offered her his arm, and she took it tentatively. Their physical
closeness earned him a few scornful looks from the passerby, who seemed
ready to beat him up as if he was some kind of despicable philanderer...
with a healthy dose of envy mixed into the anger, perhaps.

He was momentarily happy that Cassie could not see these reactions.

Ignoring the idiots, Sunny led her toward the Ivory Island.

'Essence exhaustion...'

Of course, it was the most obvious answer. He just failed to consider it

seriously because Cassie, unlike Nephis and Sunny himself, had very rarely
driven herself to that state before, if ever.

Which posed the question.

What exactly had made her burn so much essence?

The answer would have to wait until they were in a more private setting,
though.

As they walked, Cassie asked quietly:

"Did something happen? I've been told that the King has left for the waking
world. Considering how difficult it seems for him to do so... I assume that
Changing Star and the Lord of Shadows had conquered the Citadel."

Sunny lingered with the answer.

Eventually, he said neutrally:

They did. However, there were complications: Cassie's grip tightened.

"What... what kind of complications?"

He grimaced.

It was not impossible for Master Sunless to know, but it was definitely a bit
strange. Sadly, Cassie seemed to have been too agitated and left him no
choice but to answer.

Sunny looked ahead somberly.

"There was... an ambush. Quite a devious one, so much so that it almost

ended in disaster. Well, technically, it did. Several Saints of the Sword
Army are dead."

He paused for a moment, and added:

"Changing Star and the Lord of Shadows are fine, though."

Cassie let out a shaky breath, then asked somberly:

"How?"

He sighed.

"Four daughters of the Queen, each a Transcendent of divine lineage. And

four Reflections. They also..."

Sunny hesitated for a bit before finishing the sentence.

"They also knew too much, while we knew too little. There seems to be a
powerful diviner among them, as well as a few talented spies hiding among
us."

His tone was neutral, but it must have sounded like an accusation to Cassie.
After all, she was the premier diviner of their small faction — no, of the
entire Sword Army. This failure was, in no small part, the result of her
personal failure to outperform the oracle of Clan Song... Death Singer, most
likely.

It could be easily misjudged as an indictment of her inadequacy.

The delicate young woman grew quiet and did not speak again until they
reached the Ivory Tower.

Sunny guided her to her personal quarters. As they were ascending the
stairs, Cassie seemed to finally regain a little of her essence. She gently let
go of his hand and walked the rest of the way on her own, tracing her
fingers across the cold stone of the great pagoda's wall.

Hidden safely in her office and protected from any potential eavesdroppers
by a few special Memories, they could finally talk. Luckily, Anvil himself
was currently away, as well.

Cassie sat down in her chair and let out a heavy sigh.

"What exactly happened?"

Sunny leaned on the wall and crossed his arms, then said somberly:

"...They went after two Citadels at the same time. The army marched where
we expected it to march, but a small team of powerful Saints went directly
to our destination instead. They got there faster than us, as well... of course,
we don't know if they lost anyone in the process, and how many. However,
they killed the Great Terror defending the Citadel and claimed it. Needless
to say, once we entered, we found ourselves inside Ki Song's Domain:'

With each word he spoke, Cassie's expression darkened. Sunny remained

silent for a few moments, then continued:

"Worse than that, they were prepared to face me and Nephis in particular.
Dark Dancer Revel and Moonveil managed to counter our Aspects almost
perfectly. They might not have managed such a feat alone, but with
Mordret's Reflections mirroring their powers, it worked. It... was a tough
fight. I have not felt that pressured in a long, long while."
He slowly shook his head.

"We managed to drive them away in the end, but not without heavy losses. I
even gained quite a valuable boon in the process. Still... it might have gone
much better if you had not suffered essence exhaustion at the same time."

Finally, it was his turn to ask the questions.

"What did you do? How did you end up like that in the middle of the
warcamp?"

Cassie did not answer immediately, troubled by what he had said.

After a while, she sighed and leaned back in the chair, touching her
blindfold briefly.

"You mentioned that there are spies hidden among us."

Sunny nodded.

"I did."

Cassie's expression turned dark.

"I was... interrogating those spies. That was how I spent all my essence."

'Huh.'

He considered her words for a few moments.

"Since when have you become Valor's interrogator?"

A bitter smile twisted her lips. Cassie took a deep breath, then shrugged.

"Since Anvil decided to use me as one, I guess. The situation was...

difficult. I don't know how Valor managed to sniff out and capture those
spies, but they proved too seasoned and zealous to betray the secrets of their
Queen. None of the Memories Valor usually uses to get the truth out of
people worked, and their interrogators failed as well. Torturing these people
would have been of no use, and so... I guess the King remembered that I can
read people's memories. So, I was summoned."

Sunny scowled.

Cassie's Aspect did, indeed, make her a terrifying entity to those who
wanted to keep secrets. However, violating the memories of captive people
seemed like quite a vile affair, and one ill-suited for the beautiful Song of
the Fallen.

The fact that Anvil had forced her to do something so dirty irked Sunny to
no end. Not that he thought that Cassie was above doing such vile things...
he was pretty sure that she would stop at nothing to achieve her goals, no
matter how brutal or distasteful.

It was just that the King of Swords did not know that, so what right did he
have to make such a demand of Cassie?

'That bastard. I'll kill him slowly one day.'

Or swiftly, from the shadows, and stabbing him in the back. Either worked.

Cassie, meanwhile, rubbed the bridge of her nose.

"Reading someone's deep memories against their will can be an... intense
process, for me. Especially if their mental resilience is high. That was why I
had to expend a lot of essence to get the answers Anvil wanted."

She lingered for a few moments, and then suddenly smiled darkly.

"...But that was not the reason why I exhausted it completely."

Sunny walked over and sat on the chair across from her.

"Oh?"

Cassie nodded.
"No. The real reason is that I used that chance to get the answers I myself
wanted. Answers about Song and Valor, which might lead us to learn more
about the Sovereigns... perhaps even their weakness."

Her smile faltered, then disappeared.

"And I did. Although... it is only a thread. We will need to keep pulling it to

find the truth."

Sunny leaned forward a little.

"And what exactly is that thread?"

Cassie hesitated for a few moments, then raised a hand and pulled her
blindfold off.

"It... will be easier if I simply show you."

He frowned, considering the implication of her words.

"You mean?"

She nodded.

"Yes. Before, I took a look at your Memories. Now, I will share mine with
you, instead. If... if you'll accept them."

Sunny blinked a couple of times, suddenly reluctant to look in her beautiful

eyes.

But then, he forced himself to gaze into them deeply.

His lips twisted into a dark smile.

"Sure. Why not?"

In the next moment, Cassie's eyes changed.

But Sunny once again failed to perceive the nature of that change, because
he was suddenly pulled into a strange and stunningly vivid memory.
1927 Blind Seer

Sunny had an excellent memory, but Cassie was on an entirely different

level. Her memory was simply... absolute. It was incredibly vivid, detailed,
and all-encompassing, as if it was impossible for her to forget something
even if she wished to.

He knew that it had not always been like this. Cassie's ability to remember
everything with perfect clarity had slowly developed as she climbed the
Path of Ascension, most likely reaching its current state as a result of
Transcendence.

It was bitterly ironic, therefore, that her memory felt fragmented and
shrouded in fog.

Being drawn into Cassie's recollection did not mean that Sunny could read
her mind — the only thoughts he could sense and hear were those that she
remembered thinking, after all. However, he could still feel how burdened
she was by the shattered nature of her past.

Great swathes of her life were missing, and that fractured emptiness seeped
into the very foundation of her self, making the whole world feel like
treacherous quicksand.

Nevertheless, Cassie was undeterred, confidently walking forward despite

being unable to look back.

Sunny, though, was far less poised. As soon as the unfamiliar recollection
blossomed in his mind, a strong sense of vertigo overcame him, and he
swayed. If he wasn't sitting on a chair, he would have probably lost balance
entirely. Cassie's world... was far too overwhelming.

He suspected that she must have been dazed when reliving his own
memories — after all, the way Sunny perceived the world was unique and
extraordinary. Not only was his mind split between several incarnations, but
he also possessed a sense that humans did not, navigating the world full of
shadows.
So, Sunny was not a stranger to complex points of view.

But the way Cassie perceived the world was simply overwhelming in its
staggering complexity.

To start with, all her senses were incredibly sharp — many times sharper
than that of over Saints, which were already far, far superior to that of
mundane humans.

...All senses except for her sight, of course. Cassie's world was a world of
darkness, and being blind was a mild shock to Sunny in and of itself. He
had experienced being blinded before, but never as a permanent and
inseparable part of his existence.

And then, there was more...

Cassie's own point of view was already disorienting enough, but it was not
the only one she was living. As she was walking down a stone corridor, she
was also perceiving the world through several other people.

There was Nephis, leaving the expedition force of the Sword Army behind
to descend into the Hollows. The sweltering heat of Godgrave was pouring
from the radiant sky, and drops of sweat were rolling down her lean,
powerful body. Then, a wave of harrowing agony washed over her, burning
her alive, and two beautiful white wings spread open behind her.

There was Sunny himself and his world of shadows, as well — the
impression of his original incarnation was sharp and clear, the other two
less so.

There was Jet, standing on a crumbled wall and looking up at the shattered
moon, mesmerized by its broken beauty. There were Effie and Kai... and
many others, as well.

There was a man in the depths of the government headquarters, watching in

numb terror at the wall full of monitors. There was an Ascended woman
fighting for her life in the depths of the scarlet jungle, supported from both
sides by her fellow Song soldiers. There was an old man standing over an
incandescent crucible, pouring a torrent of essence into the molten steel...

The overwhelming avalanche of sensations flooded Sunny's mind, making

all the other perspectives a blur. If not for his experience of casting shadow
sense across vast areas, he would have suffered a seizure there and then. As
it was, he was only dazed, struggling to find his way in this kaleidoscope of
varied lives. But that was not all, either — the worst was yet to come.

That was because Cassie's own point of View was split between two points
in time, as if she was experiencing the present and the near future
simultaneously.

And that included the feedback she would receive from her marks in her
future, doubling the terrifying flood of knowledge pouring into her mind.

That weight of it was so heavy as to almost be unbearable.

Her ability to sustain it was monstrous.

It took Sunny some time to learn how to not drown in the blind seer's view
of the world. Even then, he was barely staying afloat, feeling like a drunk
— he limited What he paid attention to and concentrated only on Cassie's
own perspective while pushing everything else into the dark corner of his
mind. Cassie was walking down a long stone corridor.

She was blind, and although someone's measured steps were resounding
beside her — weighty and metallic, far apart, betraying the person as a tall
man wearing armor — his point of view was not among those she shared.
Therefore, Cassie was navigating the corridor with the help of her
Awakened Ability, which was a disorienting and bizarre experience.

Feeling a shift in the draft blowing through the corridor and knowing that a
turn was drawing near, she habitually lowered a hand on the hilt of the
Quiet Dancer. Suddenly, Sunny was enlightened why Cassie often wore her
Echo in a scabbard on her waist, where the habit of resting her hand on its
hilt had come from, and why she was still using the temperamental rapier
despite how relatively weak it was in comparison to the enemies they
usually faced these days.

'...I see. Of course!'

Awakened shared a sort of connection with their Echoes, allowing them to

give the sorcerous constructs mental commands. Quiet Dancer, however,
turned out to be a bit of a unique Echo — of course it was, considering its
unusual nature. When Cassie held its hilt, their connection deepened, and
she was able to vaguely sense what the flying rapier was sensing.

Of course, Quiet Dancer did not perceive the world as a being of flesh and
blood would. It had no sight, no hearing, no sense of smell, and no concept
of what these notions were. However, it did perceive something — which
made sense, really. After all, the Echo did navigate its surroundings with
fine precision when flying at great speed and fighting enemies.

Sunny was not sure how, but it had a way of sensing shapes and, especially,
motion. So, when Cassie held the Quiet Dancer, she could very vaguely
discern shapes and movement, too.

As the man walking by her side turned the corner, she seamlessly followed,
managing not to bump into anything and maintain her graceful bearing.

It was when the man said something that Sunny was pulled away from his
fascination.

"...therefore, Lady Cassia, you must succeed."

Sunny froze at the sound of the cold, commanding voice. A voice that
tolerated no disobedience.

He knew that voice.

And he knew by whose side Cassie was walking, as well.

She lowered her head in a bow and answered respectfully:

"I understand, Your Highness. It will be done."

It was Anvil, the King of Swords.

Pushing a heavy door open, Anvil walked into a cold, damp room and
waited for Cassie to follow.

Inside the room...

There was the smell of blood, and the sound of rattling chains as someone
moved.

She could feel the prisoner's stare, but there were no words.

Only silence.

Cassie marked one of the guards stationed inside the cell and was finally
able to see her surroundings.

in front of her... an old man who had once been dignified was chained to the
wall, his clothes soaked with blood. His gaze was calm and heavy.

It took her a moment to recognize him as an elder from one of the Legacy
Clans who had pledged their loyalty to Valor.

Nevertheless, the old man had turned out to be a spy of the Song Domain.
1928 Dawn of a New Era

The old man possessed a formidable mind —which was not surprising,
really. As a member of the First Generation, he had endured the darkest era
of humanity, facing countless dreadful ordeals and overcoming them with
great tenacity and determination.

The fact that he had lived to his respectable age was proof enough of just
how much willpower he possessed.

However, today, the old man encountered an ordeal that he would not be
able to overcome...

It was Cassie.

Kneeling near the bloodied prisoner, she pulled off her blindfold and looked
him into the eyes — of course, Cassie's had marked him already, so what
she actually saw was herself.

The old man smiled darkly, and finally spoke.

"Song of the Fallen. I've heard about you."

She responded quietly:

"And I you, Master Orum."

She knew that he might attempt to commit suicide if given enough time —
in fact, he would have done so already if the nature of her Aspect had not
been a closely guarded secret. So, there was little time to waste, especially
considering that there were several other captured spies she would have to
interrogate later.

But this one... this one was more valuable to Cassie, because he had lived a
long life, and would know many secrets that had nothing to do with the
clandestine side of the Domain War.

Looking into the man's eyes, Cassie activated her Transcendent Ability.
Master Orum's formidable mental defences crumbled easily under her
tyrannical attack...

After that, Sunny experienced something very strange. He was reliving

Cassie's memory, who in turn was reliving the memories of the old man. If
anything, it was a relief, since Master Orum was very much human — his
point of view was infinitely less crushing than her own.

The recent memories were the easiest to access. The fear, the pain, the
despair of being caught... but below it all, an eerie sense of calm and cold
determination, as if he had been prepared to meet such an end all along.

Deeper than these fresh experiences were the memories of the war. The
span of time was too great, and Master Orum's memory was not much
different from a mundane human, many details of his recent past already
erased by the passage of time — Cassie somehow sifted through the vast
volume of random recollections, zeroing in on only the most important
ones.

She completed the royal order with relative ease, finding the details of
Orum's clandestine activity. How long he had been relaying information to
Song, what methods he used, which secrets he had shared, who were his
contacts in the Sword Army... and so on.

It was eerie and frightening, how easily she had learned his most precious
secrets, and how helpless the stalwart old man was in front of her.

However, even after learning everything the King of Swords wanted to

know, Cassie showed no sign of having achieved her goal. Instead, she kept
looking into Orum's eyes, diving deeper into his memories... deeper, deeper,
and deeper still, until his whole life was laid open in front of her like a
book.

There were too many pages in that book to read them all, but some were
more solid and important than others. They were his core memories, as well
as those memories that had just got stuck in his mind for one reason or
another, sometimes for no reason at all.
Even there were too numerous for her to fathom in a short span of time,
without revealing her secret actions to the onlookers. So, Cassie focused
even more, her mind spinning on all cylinders to find the pieces of precious
information she desperately wanted to know.

And there, finally... she discovered something.

In the next moment, Sunny was transported into an old, old memory.
Despite its age, however, it was incredibly sharp and vivid, hinting at how
important these events were to Master Orum.

And only a few seconds later, Sunny understood why.

***

The city was on fire, and acrid smoke shrouded the streets. Military
vehicles lay on the melting asphalt like corpses of metallic beasts, their
armor bent and torn to shreds. Here and there, human corpses were
sprawled on the ground, as well, gruesomely mutilated and surrounded by
pools of blood and.

Screams of terror were echoing in the smoke, drowning in the inhuman

cacophony of bestial roars.

"Orie! Orie!"

Orum — a slender young man on the cusp of adulthood — had been

running for his life, overcome by pain and despair. At the sound of a
childish voice calling out to him, however, he stopped and turned around.

His little sister, whom he had been dragging along, was sprawled on the
ground a dozen meters away, having fallen a few moments ago.

For a moment, cold fear flooded his mind.

He... he had not even noticed when her hand slipped out of his.

Limping back in a hurry, he picked her up from the ground and wiped tears
out of her eyes.
"It's alright. It's alright. Come one, with have to..."

At that moment, a hideous figure lunged at them from the smoke, frenzied
madness burning in its terrifying eyes.

It was one of the infected... or whatever these demons were.

Orum froze.

...Luckily, his body moved even if his mind was paralyzed. It pushed his
sister back and whipped an arm forward — a senseless gesture, considering
how powerful and unstoppable the infected were.

However, Orum had been one of these infected not too long ago.

He had not turned into a monster, though. Instead, he had dreamed of a

terrible place, fighting for his life in a dreadful land where gods and demons
were real, and humans possessed unbelievable powers. When he awoke, he
brought parts of that dream with him.

As the infected was about to tear into his flesh, the asphalt beneath it
suddenly parted, and then closed like stone jaws, crushing the creature's
bones and trapping it.

Orum fell back, trembling, and pulled a military handgun — the one he had
picked up from a soldier's corpse a few minutes before — from the pocket
of his torn jacket.

Aiming it at the infected, he disengaged the safety and repeatedly pulled the
trigger.

His aim was so bad that only seven rounds out of twelve actually hit the
monster despite the close distance. Out of those, three had ricocheted off the
creature's adamantine skull... but the remaining four were mercifully
enough to kill it.

The infected slumped, and Orum shuddered when a ghostly voice

resounded in his head:
[You have slain a Dormant Beast, Carrion Beast.]

[You have received a Memory.]

Lowering the empty gun, Orum belatedly realized that he had forgotten to
search for spare magazines on the soldier's corpse. He had no bullets left.

How were they going to survive?

How... how was anyone going to survive?

All around young Orum and his sister...

The world was coming to an end.

1929 First Generation

The shock of having killed an infected rattled Orum. He had slain several
monsters in that strange dream of his... but those were monsters in the
dream. The hideous creature in front of him had been a human once, and
they were in the real world.

Monsters had no place in the real world.

...But killers had.

After all, the real world was not that different from a nightmare.

Wiping his sweat, he turned away, pulled his sister close, and shielded her
from the gruesome sight.

'We can't stay still. We need to get away from this district before the fire
spreads.'

"Orie..."

He looked at his sister and forced out a smile.

"It's fine. I'm not hurt. It's... it's all going to be fine."

He remembered hearing the ghostly voice say that he had received

something... some kind of memory. That was not the first time he had heard
these words, but their meaning escaped him.

He was certain that he would not forget these terrible days for as long as he
was alive, but wasn't it natural to retain the memories of what happened to
you? Why had the voice felt the need to announce such a strange thing?

Gritting his teeth, Orum stood up, gasped at the pain in his wounded leg,
then picked up his sister and started to limp away. The rag he had used to
bandage the wound was already soaked in blood, which was now pooling in
his shoe. Ignoring the repulsive sensation, he hurried his steps.
'l‘hen, hearing another howl, he ignored the pain and ran.

Orum ran as fast as he could — which was incredibly fast, compared to

what he had been capable of just a few days ago. His body had grown
unbelievably strong after the strange dream, reaching a pinnacle of what
humans should be capable of. It was all very magical.

And yet, it wasn't enough.

Pretty soon, Orum stopped, looking around in desperation.

They were on a wide intersection, surrounded by burning tanks. There...

there was nowhere to run, anymore.

That was because several infected had been feasting on the corpses of the
soldiers that littered the ground here, and were now staring at him with
bestial eyes. Several more were rushing from behind, only a few seconds
away from catching up.

Orum held his sister tighter, not knowing what to do.

No, he knew what he had to do. He had to fight. It was just that fighting
these monsters was suicide, even if he still had the gun.

Or... he could try to escape. Alone. If he lost the pack of supplies weighing
him down... as well as his sister...

He shuddered, revolted and loathing himself for the momentary thought.

He would not leave his sister behind, ever, and that meant... that meant that
both of them were going to die here.

Orum slowly lowered the little girl to the ground, then picked up a length of
iron pipe that lay nearby, slightly bent and heavy in his grip.

If he was going to die, then he would die fighting. He would die taking as
many of these monsters with him as he could.

However...
Orum did not die.

Just when the infected were prepared to lunge at him, something whistled in
the air, and the head of one of the infected exploded.

A split second later, another fell to the ground, and then one more.

Each was hit directly in the eye.

He shook off his shock and raised the ground in front of them akin to a
wall, the cracked asphalt scattering into the air. The wall shuddered when
two monstrous creatures crashed into her, producing an appalling sound of
breaking bones. Orum toppled the wall of earth onto them and raised his
pipe, bringing it down on the cracked skull of the first creature to emerge
from beneath the debris.

The ghostly voice whispered into his ear again:

[You have slain...]

He killed the second infected, as well, although that one took several blows.

By then, their pursuers were already upon them — or rather, they were
sprawled on the ground, blood flowing from jagged holes in their heads.

Orum tiredly lowered his pipe, took his sister's hand, and looked around in
confusion.

A few moments later, he froze.

Someone had walked out of the smoke. It was a beautiful young woman in
dark military clothes, visibly one or two sizes too large for her frame. She
had gorgeous raven-black hair and a confident gaze, using a high—
powered magnetic rifle as a walking stick to help her walk.

And she needed the help, because she... she seemed to be late into her
pregnancy. Her belly protruded forward like a ripe fruit, and she was using
her other hand to support it.
Orum recognized her as his savior and bowed hurriedly.

"Th— thank you..."

The young woman glanced at him, then hung the rifle over her shoulder and
outstretched a hand. His eyes widened when a scary-looking hunting knife
appeared in it, seemingly out of thin air.

She studied him for a moment, then smiled lightly.

"What's your name, boy?"

Orum gulped.

"It's... it's Orie."

She nodded, then smiled wider and offered him the strange knife.

"Well, what are you waiting for? We need to get the shards before more of
them appear. And it's a bit hard for me to bend down, at the moment... so..."

He stared at her in incomprehension.

"The... the shards? What shards? Wait, where did this knife come from?
How did you..."

The young woman blinked a couple of times.

"Right. I guess not everyone has figured these things out inside the trial.
Well, worry not, Orie... I'll explain to you what a soul shard is, what a
Memory is, and how to survive the end of the world."

She lingered for a moment, and then added with a smile:

"Oh, I'm Jiwon, by the way... Song Jiwon."

She patted her belly.

"And this little bean is my future daughter. She'll be a real princess, no
doubt..."
1930 Bright Future

'That... is Ki Song's mother.'

As Sunny thought that, surprised, the memory dissolved into the stream of
Cassie's consciousness, and another one surfaced.

Orum, now an Awakened, was standing at the edges of a crowded square in

NQSC. His figure was more muscular, and his posture was upright and
confident — a far cry from the skinny refugee youth he had been once.

He had survived the end of the world... mostly thanks to Song Jiwon, who
had taught him how to harvest soul shards, absorb them to grow stronger,
summon the runes to learn about his Aspect and Attributes, manifest
Memories, and much more.

On that day many years ago, they had fought their way out of the flood of
the infected... the Nightmare Creatures, as they were called now... and then
joined a caravan of other survivors, escaping across the desolate wasteland
toward the Northern Quadrant Siege Capital.

Song Jiwon — now known as Ravenheart — was also responsible for the
fact that he had survived the winter solstice a few months later. They parted
ways after that, thrown into different corners of the Dream Realm by the
Nightmare Spell, but Orum often thought about his savior and wondered
how she was doing now.

And her daughter, who had been born soon after the two of them Awakened.

That was why he had been glad to have stumbled into her today, out of the
blue.

Ravenbeart had not changed much. She was still easygoing and confident,
quick to smile, and a little mysterious... it was only that there seemed to be
a hint of heaviness hidden deep in her beautiful eyes now, and she seemed
more mature.

"Take this."
She handed him a snack from a street vendor — the same synthpaste cake
everyone was having, powdered by an excessive amount of artificial spices
— and looked at the huge projection towering above the crowd in the
middle of the square.

On it, a solemn ceremony was taking place.

Orum received the snack with gratitude and looked at the screen, as well.
Ravenheart took a bite, grimaced, and then pointed at the projection.

"Oh, I recognize some of those guys. Let's see — the one who looks like he
only has one expression should be good old Warden of Valor... he's not that
bad, actually, just terribly stiff. The handsome devil next to him is Immortal
Flame. Then... goodness gracious, is that who I think it is? That must be
him. Nightwalker... so the rumors are true! He does exist. Let me see, who
else..."

There were more renowned warriors beside them.

The people whose image was projected above the crowd were the best and
the brightest humanity had to offer... the militant heroes of the new era.
Everyone had fought relentlessly to make sure that the world did not fall
apart, of course, but these remarkable individuals had carved their names
into history.

And now, they were about to do it again.

Orum glanced at Ravenheart and asked, feeling a little self-conscious:

"You know them?"

She shook her head.

"No, not really. Small people like us rarely get the chance to brush sides
with the big guys, don't we?"

He smiled.
Ravenheart was being falsely modest. Sure, her fame was nowhere near
someone like the Warden or Immortal Flame, but she was far from ordinary.
After all, she was one of the rare individuals who had earned a True Name
from the Spell, as well.

One of the people in the projection, meanwhile, was finishing a speech.

"...but we endured. We survived. We thrived! The Nightmare Creatures are

now fully eradicated across countless cities, and we have reclaimed our
planet. However... it is still too early to celebrate. There are still many more
cities that must be liberated, and many more people that need to be saved.
And so, to achieve this glorious goal and protect humanity from the perils
of the uncertain future..."

The speaker took a dramatic pause, and then finished with a bright smile:

"I am proud to announce the formation of the United Human Government!"

The crowd exploded with applause and cheers.

The old countries were gone, and in the chaos of the new era, the survivors
had been united around local powerhouses — mostly Awakened champions.
There was a lot of cooperation between various stronghold cities, especially
recently... in no small part because those same powerhouses were often
fighting side by side in the Dream Realm when they slept.

So, this was welcome news. People felt as if a semblance of stability was
returning to the world.

Ravenheart clapped her hands together, as well.

"Good. Things were getting crazy in some parts of the world lately... both
worlds, I mean. There are all kinds of lunatics out there, some holding
significant power. This new United Government will probably push them
out, slowly but surely."

Orum nodded.
"Yeah. I'm just glad that some kind of universal order will be established.
Honestly, I felt like we'd devolve back to feudalism for a while."

He was actually powerful enough to become a feudal lord himself... a small

—time lord, perhaps, but a lord nonetheless. Still, that was not the world he
wanted his sister to grow up in.

Ravenheart gave him a curious look.

"I mean... we probably still will. But at least this new feudalism will have a
nice veneer and a sleek PR department."

With that, she finished her snack and headed away from the square.

"Come on, Orie. The whole city will be celebrating today... we should have
some fun while we can, shouldn't we?"

Ormn chuckled, threw one last glance at the projection, and followed.

"Sure. just the two of us?"

Ravenheart flashed him a smile.

"Actually, I had one more person in mind..."

Half an hour later, Orum found himself looking at a shy, incredibly sweet
little girl hiding behind her mother and throwing cautious glances at him.

He blinked.

"Is that you, Little Ki? Gods, when did you get so big?!"

The last time he saw her, she was a tiny, wrinkled infant swaddled in a
bundle of cloth.

So many people had died during the first months of the Nightmare Spell
that simply surviving was seen as a great accomplishment. Surviving while
being pregnant, like Ravenheart did, was nothing short of a miracle... as
well as a testament to how exceptional she was.
So, this little girl's life was a miracle. She had been born and survived
against all odds.

But it was only looking at her now, grown up and resembling an actual
human, that Orum finally felt it.

How far they had come...

And that the world was not ending anymore.

That they had saved it.

Looking at the shy little girl, he smiled.

"What, don't you remember your Uncle Orie? Ab, I'm hurt. I was there
when you were a tiny little baby, you know..."

He couldn't help but wonder what future awaited this sweet child.

Surely, she would live a long life. Her future will be warm, bright, and full
of happiness…
1931 Torch Bearer

'He actually did it.'

Today was another day of celebration, but Orum remembered too much,
and felt too much, to share in the excitement that had seemingly taken the
entire world by storm.

He was dressed in his best clothes, standing in the grand assembly hall of
the UHG headquarters. The somber space had been transformed into a
lavishly decorated venue for the occasion, and there was a lively crowd
enjoying the generous banquet — those who wielded power over humanity
and the members of their families, all dressed to the nines and glowing with
joy.

Orum should have probably felt pride in being one of them, but he was not
in the right mood.

He was not young anymore, having passed thirty last year. He was also not
an inexperienced greenhorn who barely knew how to kill a Nightmare
Creature. Instead, he was one of the most renowned Awakened in the
Waking World, ruling a Citadel of his own in the Dream Realm... his status
was not as high as that of the brilliant heroes who had become the idols of
humanity, perhaps, but not far below them.

That was why Orum felt frozen and somber in the middle of the joyful
celebration.

There were others like him, as well — mostly those who had endured the
horrors of the Nightmare Spell from the very first day of its descent.

That was because they understood better than anyone what today's
ceremony meant, and how many lives had been lost to pave the road for it.

Today... they were celebrating Immortal Flame, the fiery champion of

humanity, who had done something they all considered impossible.

Who had conquered the Second Nightmare.

Orum raised a crystal glass to his lips and took a sip of the liquid inside, not
feeling its taste.

Immortal Flame was not the first Awakened who had responded to the Call
and led a cohort into a Seed of Nightmare... in fact, many had tried before,
some burning with ambition, some simply unable to resist the Call
anymore. It was just that none of them had returned alive — Orum had lost
plenty of friends that way, their absence leaving deep scars on his heart.

Some people still held hope, but most had long given up on Ascendance.
Immortal Flame had changed everything. His impossible feat shook the
very foundation of the established world order, and would inevitably and
completely change the future... Orum was sure of it.

The news had been announced only a few days ago, and everywhere he
went, he could already hear cautions whispers of trying to challenge the
Nightmares again. He was even tempted to consider it himself... but no, he
couldn't. He had a family to take care of. Maybe later, when the kids pass
the age of becoming Dreamers...

But still.

'Ascendance…'

Immortal Flame himself was not in the assembly hall, whisked away by
other powerhouses to hold a closed-door meeting, but Orum had met him
briefly when entering the venue. of course, he could not tell how much
more powerful the man had become, exactly, but it was impossible to
mistake him for an Awakened.

Just like a Fallen abomination was incomparable to an Awakened one, an

Ascended human should be an invincible existence to people like Orum.
Which was both disquieting and reassuring.

Steeling his wildly beating heart, he gulped down his drink and let out a
shaky breath.
'We all owe Immortal Flame. What he did... proves that conquering the
Nightmares is possible.'

Which was an invaluable blessing, considering its necessity.

Most people did not know, but Orum was high enough in the hierarchy of
humanity to have a good rapport with the UHG. Having access to its
information network, as well as one of his own, he knew that the rumors
about a greater Gate opening in the Eastern Quadrant were not rumors at
all... in fact, several of these terrifying rifts had opened across the world in
the last few years, far more devastating than any before, and countless lives
had been lost.

After the Nightmare Spell descended, people had thought that the world
was saved for a few years. He still remembered the elation and optimism of
those precious days... however, they had not lasted long.

Soon, the Nightmare Gates started opening, and their lives had turned to
fear and bloodshed once more. And now, the Gates were growing more
potent... there was already a classification system proposed, designating
these new rifts as those of the Third Category. Although nothing had been
proven yet, three more Categories were theorized, up to a Category Six
Gate.

...Or maybe even Category Seven.

What would such horror look like, Orum did not know, and could not
imagine. He did know one thing, though. It was that there would be nothing
but chilling escalation in the future, with more terrifying beings entering the
Waking World each year. If humans wanted to survive, they would have to
keep up with the tyranny of the Nightmare Spell, as well.

That was why what Immortal Flame had achieved was so important.

Not even because he was the first human to become Ascended, but because
he had proven that conquering a Nightmare was possible. That Ascension
was just another step on a long and winding path to salvation... the path of
Ascension. Immortal Flame had given them hope.
Orum placed his glass on a nearby table and went to the far side of the hall,
planning to hide his heavy thoughts behind a plate of snacks.

He was still pondering the dire future when his concentration was broken
by infectious laughter.

Looking down, he saw a group of children doing what children usually did
during the gatherings of adults — being bored and finding their own fun
wherever they could.

Among them, one girl especially attracted attention. She was maybe eleven
or twelve years old, wearing a frilly gown that made her look like a little
princess and a smile so bright and radiant that even Orum's own lips curved
upward slightly.

At the moment, the girl was dragging a serious boy of the same age by the
hand, saying something boisterously:

"...come on, Vale! I really saw an Echo. It's just outside!"

The boy pursed his lips, unhappy.

"But Madoc said that I must stay here."

The girl scoffed.

"What does he know! Why is he ordering you around, anyway? He's only a
year older than us!"

Orum recognized the cute pair. The boy was the younger son of the Warden.
The girl... would probably be the daughter of Immortal Flame himself.

He sighed and looked away with a smile.

'Little monsters…'

Orum had never become a father himself, but he was helping raise his niece
and nephews. There had been a time when he thought that the children of
the new era would grow up knowing nothing but peace and warmth... but
fate was cruel. Instead, they grew up surrounded by terror, blood, monsters,
loss, and death. They had been raised in the world of the Nightmare Spell,
and as a result, they were far more fierce and feral than the children of his
own era.

Thinking about that, he looked up and froze.

There, separated from the group of boisterous kids, stood another girl... this
one a couple years older and a little gloomy. No one seemed very interested
in speaking with her, so she was all alone, holding to the dull fabric of her
far less opulent dress awkwardly.

Orum paid no attention to her clothes, however.

He only looked at her face, which was painfully familiar.

It took him a few moments to remember whom she reminded him of.

The girl... was the spitting image of her mother.

Forgetting everything, Orum couldn't help but walk closer and ask, his
voice hiding suppressed emotion:

"...Little Ki?"
1932 Second Generation

Orum had not seen Ravenheart and her daughter often since that day they
spent together in NQSC.

They were living in turbulent and tumultuous times, and he had had family
matters to deal with back then. Later, his focus shifted to the Dream Realm.
He pursued his ambitions and eventually conquered a Citadel of his own,
wishing to build a livelihood for himself and his family.

Awakened were naturally grouped together by the region of the Dream

Realm they traveled to at night. Ravenheart was simply too far away, in a
place where few others had been sent by the Nightmare Spell. She was not
very sociable, either, so the two of them had grown distant, eventually
losing contact altogether.

He used to hear about her from time to time, feeling happy to know that she
was doing fine. Ravenheart's life seemed quite tough, considering how
remote and dangerous her corner of the Dream Realm was. There were not
many Awakened there, and even less Citadels — unlike the region where
Orum himself was anchored.

People there had rallied around the impressive Citadel of the Warden of
Valor, which was now a bastion of humanity in the dangerous alien world.
It almost seemed like it was the center of the Dream Realm, with everything
else existing on the periphery.

Well, there were the elusive Nightwalker and other unfortunate souls who
had found themselves in a nebulous sea, of course, as well as isolated
Citadels scattered here and there across the vast expanse of the Dream
Realm. Considering its nature, it was hard to even establish where they
were located in relation to more populated areas, let alone carve a path to
them.

The last Orum heard about Ravenheart, she had conquered a Citadel
somewhere far north, near a colossal mountain chain that stretched from
east to west as far as humans explored.
Preoccupied with other things, he had not thought of her for many years.

But now, seeing her daughter, the memories of all the time they had spent
together flooded his mind.

Orum felt nostalgia, tenderness, bittersweet wistfulness... and shame.

Ravenheart had done so much for him, but he never paid her back. Instead,
he had simply forgotten about her, too busy with his own affairs and the
complexities of life.

Little Ki — already a teenager — looked up at him and frowned in

confusion.

It seemed that she once again did not remember who he was.

Still dazed a little, Orum offered her a smile.

"I'm Awakened Orum... Uncle Orie. I'm a friend of your mom."

There was no hint of recognition in her eyes.

The teenage girl shifted awkwardly, her gloomy face untouched by a smile.

"Oh... it is nice to meet you, Awakened Orum."

He hesitated, not knowing what to say, then suddenly looked around.

"Is your mother here?"

Little Ki... although he should probably stop calling her that... shook her
head.

"No... mom's Citadel is situated in a dangerous region of the Dream Realm,

and many people use it as shelter. Since they need her protection, she
spends most of her time sleeping."

She lingered for a few moments, then added stiffly:

"Mom told me to spend more time with children of other Awakened
families, though, so I accepted the invitation on her behalf. To represent our
family."

There was a hint of pride in her last words, which prompted Orum to look
at her closely.

"You don't seem to be spending time with other children, though."

Little Ki's eyes widened.

"Well! That... that... I will approach them in due time. I'm just gathering my
thoughts."

Orum smiled, having a suspicion about why Ravenheart had told her
daughter to socialize with other kids more.

"Are you having a hard time?"

Little Ki gave him a long look, then sighed.

"...A little."

Then, she added bitterly:

"They all know each other, already. Plus, the families of other Named
Awakened are all... are all... better off than we are. When I introduced
myself, they just said hi and lost interest immediately."

Orum suppressed a wince.

The families of people like Immortal Flame and the Warden were indeed a
bit of an exclusive club. They had to be, considering how many sycophants
sought out their favor, often with little or no sincerity.

He regretted that his niece and nephews weren't here... although they were
much younger than this shunned girl. She would probably not know what to
talk with them about, either.
He remained silent for a few moments, then smiled again.

"I was on my way to get some snacks... do you want to come with me?
After all, it is far easier to endure these events on a full stomach. Plus, I
want to know more about how your mom is doing. We are from the same
hometown, you know? In fact, I wouldn't be alive today if it wasn't for her.
My sister, too. Come to think about it, I absolutely must tell you all about
how she rescued us — after all, it would be a crime if you didn't know how
amazing your mother is..." Finally, the familiar shy smile appeared on the
teenage girl's face.

"Oh... alright. But I already know how amazing she is..."

Orum spent some time with Little Ki, talking about Ravenheart and the
early days of the Nightmare Spell. She was still the same sweet child
underneath the veneer of teenage gloominess, which made him happy. In
the process, he introduced her to a few people and helped her mix in with
the crowd. Her awkwardness receded, and she eventually left his side to
talk to a few kids from the less influential families.

He was quite glad at the chance to help his benefactor's daughter, even if it
was in such a small way.

There was a small smile on his lips.

'I hope my sister's troublemakers get to know her when they grow up.'

After that day, though, life became turbulent once again. Immortal Flame's
achievement had made an enormous splash, and a tidal wave of change
rattled the entire world. Those changes were especially poignant for
Awakened like him. Soon, more Ascended — called Masters now —
emerged. The existence of the Category Three Gates was revealed, plunging
humanity into chaos for a while. Eventually, Orum started to make tentative
preparations, planning on challenging the Second Nightmare himself.

In all that turmoil, he had not thought about little Ki Song a lot.

Until the day came when he regretted it bitterly.

That was because, by then, the first generation of children born after the
descent of the Nightmare Spell reached the age that allowed them to
become infected by it.

And Awakened like him quickly discovered that the children of: those who
had passed the trial of the Spell were much more likely to become its
victims.
1933 Legacy

Several years later, Orum found himself standing at the edges of a desolate
lot, watching massive construction machines moving some distance away.
A tall alloy wall had been raised near the outer radius of NQSC, enclosing a
vast space. The city had been quite crowded lately, with many people even
having to settle outside the barriers... how they survived out there, he could
not imagine. But they did.

So, the value of this plot of land was astronomical — it could be measured
in human lives, after all.

The construction was nearing the end. The wall was mostly complete, the
moat in front of it had been dug. Fearsome turrets were already installed
atop the rampart, although none had been brought online yet. It looked like
a fortress ready to repel an attack by a titan.

As he watched, a large group of Awakened used their inhuman strength to

hoist an immense alloy gate up — painted red, it stood out starkly against
the dull metallic surface of the wall. A swarm of construction workers
rappelled down a few moments later, ready to guide the enormous slab of
red alloy into a complicated locking mechanism.

"When gods close a door, the Nightmare Spell opens a window..."

Hearing someone speak beside him, Orum turned his head in surprise. He
had not felt anyone's presence there before. Considering how sharp his
instincts were, sneaking up on him was a difficult task — and yet, someone
seemed to have managed to do just that.

'Disconeerting.'

Orum noted the slurred words and the drunken giggle that followed the
sudden proclamation, then smelled alcohol in the air. He frowned.

There, just a step away from him, a dishevelled man in expensive clothes
was leaning on a wall, holding a mostly empty bottle of liquor in his hand.
There was a snide smile on his lips, and a strange expression in his cold,
cold eyes.

Orum looked away and smiled.

"I didn't know that it was possible for a Master to get drunk. Are you
pulling a prank on me, Ascended Jest?"

The man turned to him and grinned.

"Yo, Awakened Orum! Funny to run into you here."

Orurn pursed his lips.

He knew Jest rather well, and although the two of them were on friendly
terms, the man always made him feel uncomfortable. Everyone was aware
what role the Jest played in Warden's cohort, and how many people had
died by his hand... plenty of fringe factions had been quietly eliminated to
restore the order in the world, after all. Despite his carefree attitude and
humorous appearance, the man had quite a twisted and sinister side.

lest turned to the towering alloy wall and asked, his voice curious:

"Have you come to take a look too, Orum? Awakened Academy... what a
grand name! Ah, but these lazy bastards... the opening is in a few days, and
they haven't even finished setting up the defense systems."

He sighed.

"Well, on the other hand. Some might say that they're right on time."

The Awakened Academy was a project that had been forced on the
government by the factions of several renowned Masters.

Or rather, the government was forced to make it a priority — there had

always been plans of creating a centralized education facility to newly
infected carriers of the Nightmare Spell and the younger Awakened, but
considering how difficult and complicated the logistics of such an endeavor
were, it always ended up on the backburner. Until now.
That was because almost eighteen years had passed since the descent of the
Spell, and the children of many original Awakened were swiftly
approaching the age that would allow them to be infected.

In fact, some already had been.

Much worse, the rate of infection among the relatives of Awakened had
been proven to be much higher than among the general population. The
grim news had shaken the Awakened a great deal.

So, those in power had finally taken off the gloves and showed the
government in no uncertain terms what its place was.

Jest looked at the alloy wall somberly, the smile slowly disappearing from
his face.

"You must have heard, right? Old Valor's youngest boy is infected.
Immortal Flame's girl, too... and so many others. They'll be the first class of
the Awakened Academy. "

Orum remained silent for a few moments.

"What about your kids?"

Jest smiled.

"Nope, my kids aren't infected. My youngest is not of age yet. My oldest...

he's dead. He didn't pass the first trial, so he's technically not infected
anymore. There. This Academy has nothing to do with me."

As Orum looked away with a sigh, Jest took another sip of liquor and
laughed.

"Ain't it a joke, Drum? The nightmare... it never ends. All the dirty things
we've done, and it's only getting worse. Worse, and worse, and worse... ah,
it's hilarious."

He looked down, his gaze turning cold once again.

"Your sister's children are what, around ten? You must be thinking about a
lot of things right now, too. Huh, Orum?"

Orum nodded slowly.

"Yeah. I am thinking... I really hope that they won't become infected. Of

course, I'll need to prepare them well, in case they do."

Everyone would probably be thinking the same, at the moment. The

Awakened Academy was one thing, but the entire education system would
have to be reworked. There were more and more infection cases every year,
so it was not enough to teach children literature, sciences, and basic self—
defense anymore. They needed to be taught how to survive, how to fight,
and how to kill...

Which, in turn, would make them even sharper and more cruel than they
already were.

Jest smiled again.

"...That is why I like you, Orum. Thank the gods you're still normal, at
least."

His expression changed again, growing cold and resentful. At this point, it
was unclear if he was really drunk or just pretending — in any case, Jest
uttered through gritted teeth, his voice full of contempt:

"Do you know what the others are thinking, though?"

Orum silently shook his head.

Jest smiled darkly.

"They are praying for their children to be infected and carry on their legacy.
There's talk about dynasties, control over Citadels, and consolidating power
everywhere. Well, I get it... fools like us have grown used to our lofty
status, and that status only exists because of strength. If our children remain
mundane, it will disappear like dew after we die. There'll be no legacy."
Orum looked at him, unamused.

"I'd rather not leave a legacy, then."

Jest simply laughed.

"As if you have a choice. Orum, my friend, listen to this fool... abandon
hope. In this era, the only thing worth believing in is the Nightmare Spell,
and the Spell is a cruel bitch. Just... teach your kids well. Teach them really
well, bastard."

With that, he finished his liquor, waved a hand weakly, and headed away.

"See you at the opening ceremony, Orum! Old Valor is giving a speech...
ah, I love the scumbag, but he is so dreadfully boring. And yet, he refuses to
accept the jokes I wrote for him! Honestly, I'd skip the entire thing if I were
you..."

Orum watched him go in silence, his gaze heavy.

Despite the piece of friendly advice, he did attend the opening ceremony of
the Awakened Academy a few days later.

It was there that he met Ki Song once again...

1934 First Class

The turrets on the massive wall were still being calibrated by an army of
technicians, but the Academy was already welcoming its first crop of young
Dreamers. This late in the year, there were a considerable number of them
— almost five hundred.

Some had come from here in NQSC, some had arrived from other cities in
the Northern Quadrant. Many had even been brought across the oceans on
heavily armored naval convoys — not only from Africa, Antarctica, and
Australia, but also from the Americas. It was a clear sign of how seriously
the government was taking the establishment of the Academy.

There were many distinguished guests, as well. Orum was one of them,
observing the ceremony silently. Jest had not shown up, which was
probably for the best, but he saw a lot of familiar faces.

Warden of Valor did indeed give a speech... and it was indeed a little boring.
Filtering out the man's stern voice, Orum looked at the young Dreamers.

They had already done well to survive the First Nightmare. In fact, there
were much more survivors this year than ever before. It was most likely
because the kids infected by the Spell this year had all been born after its
descent, and grew up in its ruthless claws. They were a different breed.

Honestly, Orum sometimes felt scared of the new generation.

In any case, there was another trial waiting for them now. The winter
solstice was not that far, and soon, they would be sent to the Dream Realm.
How many would be left alive? He hoped that all of them would, but of
course, his wish was not meant to come true.

At least the impressive roster of instructors employed by the Academy

would be able to prepare them for the journey better. Naturally, those
instructors were not Awakened of the highest caliber, but they were
competent enough to earn his trust.
He recognized a few of the Sleepers, as well.

The tall youth with a cold expression was Anvil, Old Valor's son. He gave
off an unapproachable impression and was easily noticeable because of his
flawless poise and composure. His dark hair was cut neatly, and his gaze
was sharp... unlike most of the Sleepers, who seemed traumatized by their
Nightmares and frightened of the solstice, he was calm and collected.

As if he was born to carry the Nightmare Spell.

The youngest son of Valor was not the center of attention, though. Instead,
it was a beautiful young woman standing next to him, wearing an easy
smile on her lips. She was like a ray of sunshine in the somber atmosphere
of the underground hall, attracting many furtive gazes from other youths.

She was Smile of Heaven, Immortal Flame's daughter... and already a

trailblazer, just like her father. After all, she was the first human to have
earned a True Name in the First Nightmare. Her future was undoubtedly
bright.

Orum vaguely remembered seeing these two a few years ago, when they
were still little kids. Now, both were sixteen, and already tempered by the
cruelty of the Nightmare Spell.

To his surprise, though...

There was someone else who drew his attention. He did not know this
youth, and couldn't place him. The young man did not look like a child
from any of the powerful families that had emerged since the descent of the
Spell...

Unlike Anvil and Smile of Heaven, the youth was wearing cheap clothes
that were most of the way to becoming rags. He had black hair and piercing
grey eyes, his gaze strangely heated. There was a quality of sharpness about
him that only those who had witnessed a lot possessed, but also a hint of
gentleness that was both endearing and out of place.
Orum instincts told him that the youth was special in some way, but he
couldn't quite put a finger on it.

'Ah. I see.'

He finally understood why the young man stood out among his peers, and
smiled slightly.

It was because everyone else was trying to hide their glances, but the youth
was staring at Smile of Heaven brazenly.

'What a brave fellow.'

Shaking his head, Orum looked away and threw another look at the sea of
youthful faces.

Then, he froze for a moment.

There was another familiar face in the crowd, quite far from the center of
attention. One that he knew far better than that of Valor's son or Immortal
Flame's daughter.

'Little Ki...'

A dull pain pierced Orum's heart.

She was a couple of years older than the other two, at the edge of the age
susceptible to the plunder of the Nightmare Spell.

She had almost been safe.

Her youthful awkwardness was gone, replaced by quiet confidence. The

hint of gloominess remained, though.

Orum gritted his teeth and looked away.

'...Of course.'
Her mother was such an outstanding Awakened, after all. If even his niece
and nephews were at risk, then Little Ki would be, too.

He sighed heavily.

'It's alright.'

She was Ravenheart's daughter. An apple did not fall far from the tree, and
her mother would have prepared her well.

Little Ki had already survived her First Nightmare, proving that she was
strong enough to endure the cruelty of the Nightmare Spell. Yes, her future
would be one of bloodshed and peril, like that of all Awakened... but Orum
had been living this life for a while, and he was fine.

Surely, she would be fine, too.

Her mother ruled a Citadel in the Dream Realm. Although the Song family
was not very renowned, it was still one of the most distinguished families of
the modern era. Little Ki had plenty of advantages to help her survive both
in the Waking World and in the Dream Realm.

And he had his own problems to deal with. Too many of them to waste time
on the child of an old acquaintance...

Soon, the ceremony was over. The Sleepers were taken to their dormitories
by the attendants, and the distinguished guests were guided to a banquet
hall. Orum found himself in the middle of a celebration once again. He did
not attempt to socialize with his peers, though, standing in the corner with a
somber expression.

Eventually, he found his way to the center of the hall, where a small crowd
was gathered around an exalted figure.

"...Congratulations, sir! "

"Your son has definitely inherited his father's valiance."

"How goes the struggle against the Dark Forest? I haven't visited Bastion in
a while..."

Orum patiently made his way through the circle of sycophants and bowed
slightly.

"Ascended Warden."

The man — Warden of Valor — looked at him in confusion for a moment,

then smiled slightly.

"Awakened Orum. It is nice to see you again... how is your Citadel doing?
If that Fallen Demon is still causing trouble in your territory, I can send
some of my knights to assist you."

Orum smiled politely.

"Thank you, but I have dealt with it already. Rather, I wanted to talk to you
regarding something else..."

Warden's smile brightened a little, and he patted Orum on the shoulder.

"You took down a Fallen Demon, Orum? As expected... great! That is what
an Awakened should strive to be."

He threw a derisive glance at the other people around them, then looked
back to Orum.

"What did you want to talk about?"

Orum lingered for a moment, then said in a neutral tone:

"Actually... I was quite touched by your speech. Everything you said is true
— these children are indeed our future. So, I was wondering if there is an
instructor's position left open at the Academy. I'm quite busy handling my
territory and the Citadel, of course, but I think I can stay at the Academy for
a few months. Learning from a seasoned veteran like me should benefit the
kids, don't you think?"
1935 Four Prodigies

"I'm Instructor Orum."

Orum looked at the youths crowding the dojo, hiding his confusion behind a
cold expression. How the hell did he end up becoming a teacher? Doing
something like that had never been a part of his plans.

In fact, he was supposed to be preparing to challenge the Second Nightmare

right now. His soul core had long been saturated, and he had carefully
assembled a potent arsenal of suitable Memories. He was even in
negotiations to purchase a powerful Echo.

He was also in contact with several seasoned Awakened, searching for

reliable companions to enter the Seed. Each of them had endured the
horrors of the Nightmare Spell shoulder to shoulder with Orum at some
point in the past, so he trusted both their skill and their character. However,
assembling a strong cohort was about more than mere power.

There was also the question of complementing each other's powers and
covering for each other's weaknesses... not to mention that most people
were unwilling to even entertain the thought of gambling away their lives
by challenging the Second Nightmare. In short, the process was slow.

So why was he at the Awakened Academy, preparing to teach a combat

class?

Orum's gaze briefly fell on a young woman with raven hair and gloomy
eyes.

There was his reason.

Of course, he did not let it show. It would not do Little Ki any good if
everyone knew that she was favored by one of the instructors, and more
than that, he was not here to be her friend. He was here to teach her how to
survive, and the lessons she needed to learn were all harsh and unforgiving.
So, he had to maintain a stern facade.
Plus... Orum was ashamed to admit that he had not been a good elder to
Little Ki. So, it was questionable if he even had the right to act friendly
around her.

Looking at the crowd of Sleepers, he lingered for a few moments, and then
asked in a cold voice:

"I will be teaching you combat. All of you here have already faced the First
Nightmare, so you are not children anymore. You'll be treated as adults.
Don't expect any pity from me — the world is a ruthless place, after all, and
the Spell will not show you any mercy."

Orum smiled darkly.

"...What do you think the essence of combat is?"

Most youths remained silent, afraid to speak in front of the stern instructor.
Only a few of them remained calm.

Anvil — the tall young man with a cold and unapproachable expression —
raised his chin slightly and answered in a calm, clear voice:

"The essence of combat is a confrontation between warriors. The warrior

who wields a better weapon and knows how to use it with greater skill wins.
Combat is the purest expression of one's valor and will, and therefore, its
essence is glory."

Orum stared at him silently.

'So many words... so little sense!'

This poor kid must have spent too much time with his father. Warden of
Valor was a great man, sure, but his solemn adherence to knightly values
often went too far. It was more than enough to indoctrinate an
impressionable child into having strange ideas, no doubt.

Granted, young Anvil seemed better than he could have been. At least Orum
saw a hint of cold practicality in him — his words might have been lofty,
but he still remained grounded.
'Now, how do I disabuse him of these nonsensical notions without sounding
too harsh...'

Before Orum could say anything, however, another voice resounded in the
dojo — it was the youth with black hair and grey eyes he had noticed
during the ceremony, speaking in an confident tone:

"The essence of combat is murder."

His simple answer caused a few chuckles from the crowd of Sleepers.
Orum, however, looked at him with interest.

"Elaborate."

The youth looked at him in confusion.

"What is there to elaborate? The enemy wants to murder you, and you want
to murder the bastard first. That's all there is to it — everything else is just
nonsense."

Orum suppressed a smile.

'What a feral child.'

The youth had been delivered to the Northern Quadrant by ship, so he had
no friends and no family here... or anywhere, most likely, considering his
habits and attitude. Orum shook his head lightly.

"Not every battle is fought with the intent of killing the enemy."

The youth suddenly smiled.

"Well, that just means that you're fighting it wrong."

There was another wave of chuckles, and Orum blinked.

'That rascal...'

Something was telling him that he would have his hands full with this one.
Smile of Heaven glanced at the cynical youth and hurriedly covered her
mouth with a hand, trying to suppress laughter. Anvil, meanwhile, looked
unamused... he even lost his flawless composure for a moment, shaking his
head and uttering in a disapproving tone:

"Ridiculous..."

Well, at least Warden's son was still a human.

Orum shifted his gaze to Little Ki, who was standing in the back row, and
asked neutrally:

"What do you think?"

The Sleepers turned around, not sure whom he was asking. Ki Song did not
seem to have made an impression, so many looked confused.

Put on the spot, she frowned slightly. Her answer, however, was calm:

"The essence of combat is failure. If you are forced to fight, you have
already lost."

Orum raised an eyebrow, surprised by her answer. It had some merit, sure
— more than that, he was somewhat inclined to agree. The second-best way
to resolve a conflict was to never give the enemy a chance to fight you, in
the first place — by killing them before the battle could even begin. The
best way to resolve a conflict was to prevent it from happening entirely.

However, very few would have given such an answer in this era of strife
and bloodshed. Awakened prided themselves on being skilled warriors
above all else.

Smile of Heaven looked at the older girl with a hint of mirth in her eyes.

"You've just insulted every Awakened in the world... uh... Ki? Including our
venerable parents... and Instructor Orum..."

Little Ki threw a gloomy glance at her, then turned her gaze to Orum and
looked him right in the eyes.
"...It's not my problem if they feel insulted by the truth."

Smile of Heaven finally couldn't hold herself back and laughed.

Orum sighed quietly.

'I'm going to have my hands full with this one too, aren't I?'

He couldn't have known, of course...

But Sunny, who was experiencing his memories, did.

He knew that this was the first conversation between four people who
would go on to shake the very foundation of the world.
1936 Adulthood

The months before the winter solstice were precious and short, so the staff
of the Academy —and Orum, who had somehow found himself playing the
role of an instructor — wasted no time.

The Sleepers were trained and educated according to a gruelling schedule.

The system was not very sophisticated, yet, but they were already seeing
good results. The youths were learning how to use their new powers,
absorbing knowledge about the Dream Realm, and getting to know each
other — which would help them fight side by side with fellow Awakened in
the future.

Of course, teaching them was not a simple affair. Each Sleeper possessed a
unique Aspect, after all, and had received a varied level of prior training.
Evaluating their potential was similarly not easy.

Nevertheless, four of them emerged as undisputed standouts early on.

The first one, quite unsurprisingly, was Smile of Heaven — the girl who
had received a True Name in her First Nightmare. She was bright and
beautiful, and there was something subtle about her that made people feel
warm and at ease in her company.

More importantly than that, however, was the fact that she was strong —
shockingly strong, in fact. Her Aspect remained a mystery to Orum, since
she had never said anything about it, but her extraordinary talent was
apparent even without it.

Her physical prowess, martial technique, combat intelligence, and

willpower were all incredible, making Smile of Heaven a natural leader
among the Sleepers. It was just that her personality was not exactly serious
enough to settle in that position, and she didn't seem interested in authority
and status, either. So, she was more of everyone's favorite person than the
leader of the pack.

Instead, two boys were competing for the title.

One of them was, naturally, Anvil. The serious young man was excellent in
all regards, his conduct was flawless, and his battle prowess was exemplary.
Added to the immense fame of his family, it was no surprise that other
Sleepers looked up to him.

Interestingly enough, he seemed more interested in knowing weapons than

he was in wielding them — although his combat technique was still stellar.
His Aspect granted him a high affinity to metal, which he used to skillfully
control a flying sword

or enhance his swordsmanship in a number of ingenious, and quite

insidious, ways.

Both Smile of Heaven and Anvil showed a level of physical strength and
endurance that Orum couldn't quite explain, and honestly found a little
monstrous. However, he was happy to see the new generation thrive in the
perilous world they had been born into.

The second candidate for the title of the very best among the crop of
Sleepers, however, was a complete surprise. It was the brazen youth with
grey eyes whose amusing remarks had made the entire class chuckle during
the first combat class.

The young man had come out of nowhere and had no background to speak
of. Nevertheless, he was truly a genius at all things having to do with
swordsmanship and combat, easily holding his own against the scions of the
most prestigious families and defeating them one after another.

His talent stood out starkly even when compared to the most excellent
Sleepers in his class... perhaps of any Sleeper ever, really. His technique
was rough, sure, but it was improving by leaps and bounds every day. It was
to the point that Orum almost felt exasperated and insecure, unsure if he
would have anything left to teach the rascal in a few more months.

The boy's Aspect was an unusual one, too. It had nothing to do with
combat, but was instead connected to perception. The young man had an
uncanny ability to perceive the underlying elements of various concepts and
deduce the connections between them, granting him an unparalleled level of
insight into all kinds of things — from how a battle style flowed to how
communicators were built.

And lastly, there was Ki Song.

While not as bright and eye-catching as the other three, she soon quietly
emerged as one of the strongest members of her generation. Everything
about her was balanced and without glaring flaws — she could wield a wide
variety of melee weapons with deadly skill, never missed a shot when
handling a bow, and could bring most opponents down in hand-to-hand
combat.

Above all else, she possessed a deep well of knowledge and skills in the
area where many other Sleepers only knew the bare minimum —wilderness
survival. Just like her mother, who was an experienced hunter, Ki Song
excelled at adapting to any environment, subterfuge, tracking, and
eliminating enemies in the most efficient way.

She couldn't really use her Aspect in the training, though, because it was
quite an eerie one — her Dormant Ability was pretty much the opposite of
healing, allowing her to exacerbate any wound in a slow, but exponential
process. Even though she could not very well use it against fellow Sleepers,
it would be quite a potent Ability to wiled in actual battles.

Orum made a point of paying special attention to preparing her for the
Dream Realm — as much as he could without making it seem as though
this one student was more important to him than all the rest.

He did his best...

But the passage of time was ruthless.

In what seemed like the blink of an eye, several months passed, and the day
of the winter solstice approached.

On the last day, the instructors led the Sleepers to their designated sleeping
pods in the newly built medical complex of the Academy. Orum finally
gave up on his pretense and guided Little Ki to her pod personally.
Eventually, it was just the two of them in a small underground chamber. The
young woman already looked sleepy and fatigued, so he knew that he
would have to leave soon to allow her to get ready and enter the sleeping
pod.

Orum lingered, not knowing what to say. After a while, he sighed.

"You did well, Little Ki. Very well. I should say that I am less worried about
you than about any other Sleeper who is going to enter the Dream Realm
today, but that would be a lie. In fact, I am quite worried, against all sense."

She looked at him with her usual somber expression, then smiled slightly
from the corner of her mouth.

"...It's alright, Uncle Orie. I won't let you down."

A little smile touched Orum's lips in response.

'Oh. So she does remember, after all!'

He hesitated for a few moments, feeling glad, then finally asked the
question that he had wanted to ask for a long time.

"How is your mother doing, by the way?"

Ki Song turned away and faced the sleeping pod, her slender figure
silhouetted by its pale glow in the darkness of the chamber.

Her voice sounded even when she answered:

"She is dead."

Her words struck Orum like a hammer. He froze, paralyzed by the

immensity of she had said, and afraid to comprehend it.

A sharp pain pierced his heart, making him shudder.

The young woman sighed, and then said quietly:

"She died not long before my First Nightmare. The being that lived in the
volcano emerged and attacked the Citadel, so... she decided to fight it
instead of running away, to protect the Gateway and the people anchored to
it. The people she was trying to protect, though, all decided to hide and
leave her alone. The cowards."

Ki Song pressed a button, and the lid of the sleeping pod opened.

Turning to Orum, she looked at him calmly.

Her face was not the face of a teenager. Instead, it was already the face of
an adult.

"The next time we meet, I will be an Awakened. See you soon, Uncle Orie."

A few weeks later, she returned to the waking world and fulfilled her
promise.
1937 Her Last Trace

Orum spent several weeks after the solstice feeling numb. There was little
to do at the Academy now that the students were away, and he did not want
to keep vigil next to their sleeping pods, like some other instructors did in
secret.

So, he returned home, spending time with his sister and her children during
the day and concentrating on taking care of his Citadel at night.

But even when Orum was with other people, he remained quiet and
detached, his expression subdued. His mind was far away.

He was thinking about Ravenheart, his heart full of anguish and regret.

Death was an old friend to the original Awakened like himself, and he had
lost many friends and comrades to its clutches. And yet, her death wounded
him much deeper than anything had in the past.

It was bitterly ironic, in hindsight. Orum had lived a long life, and the time
the two of them had spent together was not that long. The last time he had
seen her was more than a decade ago. And yet... now that Ravenheart was
gone, he realized that the great volume of space she inhabited in his heart
was incomparable to the fleeting brevity of the few short months they had
spent as companions.

But there was nothing he could do, anymore. He could never see her again,
and he would never be able to repay his debt to her. It was too late.
Ravenheart had died alone, far away, with no one standing by her side.

Now, her presence in his heart was replaced with a hollow absence, and all
he was left with was regret.

The only trace of her that remained was her daughter.

"Orie, are you alright?"

He glanced at his sister, hearing concern in her voice, and smiled gently.
"Sure. Don't worry."

Orum hesitated for a few moments, then asked suddenly:

"Do you remember Ravenheart?"

Seeing confusion in her eyes, he corrected himself.

"Jiwon. Do you remember her?"

His sister frowned, started to shake her head, but then brightened.

"Ah! Auntie Jiwon? She was with us when we arrived at NQSC, right?
Sure, I remember... she was very kind. Why are you asking?"

Orum looked away.

"...It's nothing. I met her daughter at the Academy recently, so I was just
thinking about the past."

His sister smiled.

"Her daughter? Then you have to take good care of her! Oh, and protect her
well from the male students... if she's as pretty as her mother, then they'll be
making trouble!"

Orum forced out another smile and nodded.

"Sure. I will."

Soon enough, he found himself back at the Academy. By then, many of the
Sleepers had undergone the Awakening and returned from the Dream
Realm. A particular grey-eyes, brazen youth had even managed to earn
himself a True Name on his first visit to the Dream Realm, and was now
known as... Broken Sword? Orum would have to check the records again to
be sure.

Ki Song was the last of the four front-runners to come back.

He found her in the dormitory cafeteria, eating a light meal in solitude. The
Awakening had made the young woman even more beautiful, earning her
quite a few stares, but he couldn't see her as anything but a child...

Even though he knew that she was not — not anymore, and not by a long
shot.

"Uncle Orie."

He sat down across from her and looked at her silently, not knowing what to
say.

Was he supposed to offer her condolences? Beg her for forgiveness?

Promise her that everything will be fine?

All these words sounded hypocritical and hollow in his mind.

Eventually, Orum said:

"I heard that you ended up south of Bastion."

Ki Song nodded slowly.

"Yes. I was sent to the shores of the Stormsea. It took me some time to
make it all the way to Rivergate."

He considered the known geography of the Dream Realm for a few

moments, then smiled.

"It's not that far from my own Citadel. If you want... I can reach Rivergate
in a few weeks and take you back with me. You'll be welcome among my
people. I'll take care of you."

The young woman looked at him silently, her gaze calm and strangely dark.
He couldn't read what she was thinking at all.

Eventually, she asked:

"Why would you go to all the trouble on my behalf?"

Orum met her gaze, then leaned back with a sigh.

Indeed, they were passing acquaintances at best. Little Ki was an orphan

now, with no valuable connections to speak of. While talented, she had not
proven herself yet, so there would be no factions clamoring to recruit her at
all costs. Considering all that, his offer to brave the dangers of the Dream
Realm for her sake could hardly be explained... unless one considered less
savory motives.

Orum shook his head and answered simply:

"Because I owe your mother a debt."

He had wanted to say that he was Ravenheart's friend, but realized that he
did not even deserve to make that claim.

Ki Song sighed deeply and looked away. After a while, she suddenly asked:

"How great a debt?"

Orum hesitated, unsure how to answer. Eventually, he simply shrugged and

said in a neutral tone:

"Great enough."

The young woman nodded slowly and faced him once again.

"Then I have a favor to ask you, Uncle Orie. A big one."

She paused for a moment, then said in a determined tone:

"Please help me reach my mother's Citadel."

Orum frowned.

'Ravenheart's Citadel...'

From what he remembered, it was called Jade Palace, and very little was
known about it — after all, it was so remote, infinitely far from most
populous human enclaves in the Dream Realm.

Many regions of the Dream Realm had already been explored, but few were
under human control. The area around Bastion was relatively known,
stretching all the way to the inhospitable mountain chain in the north.
Beyond the mountains lay a vast and largely untamed wilderness, and
beyond even that, a titanic mountain range known as the Hollow Mountains
rose toward the sky.

A few daredevils had crossed the first mountain chain in the past, but no
one had ever returned alive from the Hollow Mountains. They were a Death
Zone, which was a name given to those regions of the Dream Realm where
no human could ever survive.

The Jade Palace was said to be situated near the Hollow Mountains, but far,
far to the west. The problem was that if one traveled west of Bastion, they
would hit an impenetrable barrier of Death Zones, as well.

So, the only way to do what Little Ki wanted to do was to travel south of
Rivergate, reach the Stormsea, sail west along its shore, make landfall
beyond the wall of Death Zones, and then brave the perils of the Dream
Realm all the way to the northern boundary of its known area.

It was a journey spanning tens of thousands of kilometers, full of unknown

dangers and deadly threats. Even if they were to travel most of the distance
by boat, it would still take them many months to reach the destination... if
they weren't eaten by some dreadful Nightmare Creature on

the way, of course.

The other option was to somehow find a Nightmare Gate connected to a

Seed in the vicinity of the Jade Palace and follow the Call there.

The favor Little Ki was asking of him was indeed a big one.

Orum remained silent for a few moments, studying her youthful face
somberly.
Eventually, he asked:

"Why do you want to go there?"

The young woman met his heavy gaze with dark determination, then raised
her chin slightly and answered in an even tone:

"Because it's mine."

Orum stared at her before looking away with a sigh.

There were a lot of things he had to consider before making the decision.
His own Citadel, the preparations to challenge the Second Nightmare,
potential risks... whether it was worth it to put himself in danger to help this
young woman, who was practically a stranger, to begin with...

But really, deep down, he already knew what he was going to do.

Orum nodded.

"Alright, Little Ki... Awakened Song. I will help you reach the Jade Palace."

And he would make sure that she got there alive and well.
1938 Dispossessed

It took Orum a few days to arrange his affairs and prepare to depart for
Rivergate. He was not a pillar of humanity by any means, but he was still a
very wealthy man — even if the worst happened, his sister and her kids
would not want for anything. They shared his high rank in the controversial
citizenship system established by the government a few years back, as well.

That said, Orum was not planning on dying in some godforsaken corner of
the Dream Realm on the way to the Jade Palace. He was not arrogant, but
he was confident in himself. Seasoned Awakened like him were few and far
between — in the whole world, there were maybe only a few dozen.

He had not only survived, but also thrived during the darkest days of
humanity. So, the Nightmare Spell would have to work really hard to bring
him down.

Leaving his body in a sleeping pod and walking through the gates of his
Citadel, Orum traveled south. Traversing the wilderness reminded him of
his younger days, but he did not allow nostalgia to make him complacent. A
couple of weeks later, he arrived at the edges of an ancient forest.

His armor had a few scratches, and there was a scattering of soul shards in
his pack. A trail of dead abominations was left in his wake.

The forest, however... the forest was an entirely different kind of beast.
Entering it alone was simply asking to be swallowed by it.

So, Orum made camp and waited for a while. The sea of leaves rustled in
the distance, and the nearby river murmured as it flowed south,
disappearing between the tall trees.

He spent a restless night on its bank. On the next day, a battered ship
appeared from somewhere upstream, and Orum used his chance to brave
the strong current and climb aboard — the crew was surprised to see him,
but glad to have another Awakened blade with them for the last and most
dangerous leg of the journey.
The river was teeming with Nightmare Creatures, but it was still safer than
the dark expanse of the forest. So, unless someone had a cohort of Warden's
knights escorting them, they preferred to travel by water.

Orum reached the Mirror Lake, changed ships at Bastion, and continued on
his way to Rivergate.

By the time he met Little Ki there, he was carrying quite a few soul shards
with him.

"Here. Take them... the more saturated your core is, the easier it will be for
us to travel."

The young woman took the shards silently and crushed them one by one in
her fist.

They were currently in the dining hall of Rivergate. There was a small
crowd of Awakened having a meal there — some of them warriors serving
Jest, some simply people anchored at the ancient fortress.

The master of the Citadel himself, luckily, was nowhere to be seen. Now
that Anvil had Awakened, his father's old comrades — those of them who
were still alive — were probably busy guiding the young man in hunting
down Nightmare Creatures in the wilderness, both to saturate his core and
to help him gain experience. Warden had big hopes for his youngest son.

Orum looked at Little Ki quietly.

She was wearing an enchanted black leather armor, trying to look calm and
confident. However, he knew that she was most likely disoriented and
afraid. It took time to get used to the Dream Realm... and most people never
did.

Those like him who were at home here were the minority.

He hesitated for a few moments.

"Why do you really want to go to the Jade Palace? Are you planning to take
revenge on the Nightmare Creature that killed your mother? If so... sure,
let's do it. But we'll have to be careful. Ravenheart was strong, so if that
thing managed to kill her, we have our work cut out for us."

She paused for a moment, then shook her head.

"No. The Nightmare Creature... it's already dead. Mom killed it before
succumbing to her wounds."

Orum raised an eyebrow.

"Why, then?"

Little Ki gave him her usual gloomy look and remained silent for a while.

Eventually, she said:

"She arranged for the Citadel to become mine, in case anything happened to
her. The uncles and aunties who live there... they were supposed to take
care of me and carry out her will."

Orum frowned, already suspecting what had happened.

"But they haven't?"

She smiled darkly.

"No. They took the shards and Memories she set aside for me, and they've
taken the Citadel, too. They told me that they'll gladly surrender it to me if I
Awaken and come to claim ownership of the Jade Palace, though."

Orum sighed. Of course, they had said that — knowing perfectly well that
the Dream Realm was vast, and her chances of making it to that remote
place alive were very slim. A young girl with no connections would not
dare to travel far across the wilderness, in the first place.

Ruling a Citadel was both prestigious and lucrative, so the newly ownerless
Jade Palace would ignite people's greed.

They had underestimated Little Ki's determination, though.

As well as her connections.

He shook his head and asked in a business-like tone:

"What is your Awakened Ability?"

She hesitated for a few moments.

"...I can animate inanimate objects and control them like puppets."

Orum considered that Ability for a while. It sounded useful... almost as if

Little Ki could create surrogate Echoes without actually receiving them
from the Spell. Of course, he would have to see just how powerful her
puppets were, and how well she could control them in a fight.

A puppeteer was quite a frightening existence, though. Orum had battled a

few abominations with similar powers in the past, and each time was a real
nightmare.

He nodded.

"What about your Flaw?"

The young woman stared at him silently.

"...I'm not telling."

Orum laughed.

"Good. I would have stopped you if you tried. Never reveal your Flaw to
anyone, girl. Not even your family."

She continued to stare at him with the same expression.

"I don't have a family."

He hid his pain and discomfort behind a smile.

"Well, you will. Hopefully, one day soon."

At that, her expression subtly changed, turning even more gloomy.

They left Rivergate the next day, traveling by boat to the shores of the
Stormsea.

There, a large ship was already waiting for them — Orum had pulled some
strings and arranged passage west for himself and Little Ki. Despite the fact
that he knew the captain, hiring her had cost him a fortune.

Soon, the ship set sail and dove into the perilous mists of the nebulous
ocean.
1939 Life and Death

Orum had seen too many terrible things to count, both before and after the
descent of the Nightmare Spell... but the voyage across the Stormsea was by
far the most harrowing experience of his life.

The nebulous ocean was boundless and unfathomably deep, with untold
horrors dwelling beneath its restless waves. It was shrouded in impenetrable
fog sometimes, and at over times, surged and boiled in the throes of
devastating storms. Night and day never followed a set pattern, sometimes
coming and going in an instant, sometimes lingering for far too long.

Most of the time, though, there was twilight, with countless pale stars
shining on the velvet background of the distant sky. All of it felt as if the
world was fragmented and disconnected here, and that made Orum feel lost.

The fact that he was away from land, which was the foundation of his
Aspect, did not help one bit.

The wooden ship they sailed upon was constantly assaulted — either by the
towering waves and hurricane winds or by dreadful abominations that
dwelled beneath the waves. And that was even after their experienced
captain had set a course that took them past the dwellings of the truly
deadly Nightmare Creatures, sticking close to the shore, where the danger
was less severe.

Both Orum and Little Ki were forced to participate in many battles, barely
surviving a few of them.

'...And I thought that Warden and his people, who had chosen to settle in the
middle of an actual Titan, were insane.'

Nightwalker and his ilk were far more crazy. The captain — a beautiful
Ascended woman with strange indigo eyes — seemed perfectly at ease in
these terrifying waters, though, never losing her cheerful mood. The only
times she looked wistful was then talking about her newborn baby, an infant
boy named Naeve, whom she had left in the waking world to make this
journey.

Orum felt a bit guilty for cashing in the favor she owed him.

In any case, he was having trouble maintaining his composure at sea.

Considering that Little Ki had just Awakened and did not have a lot of
experience, he would have expected her to struggle much more... but to his
surprise, he took the horrors of the Stormsea in stride, never showing any
signs of fear or agitation.

It took him some time to understand that it was because she had never
expected anything else from the world, to begin with. Orum and the other
Awakened of his generation had a frame of reference and were able to
compare reality to how it used to be before the Nightmare Spell.

Little Ki and her peers, however, had been born into the dread of the Spell
and grew up surrounded by Nightmare Gates, murderous abominations, and
chilling stories of the Dream Realm. They had never known anything else,
and so, the terrors of the modern era were simply mundane reality to them.

Orum understood that rationally, but the young woman's callous

indifference still seemed eerie to him. It was more than a little inhuman.

Nevertheless, it was quite helpful on this dangerous journey.

The Stormsea was harrowing, but it did not claim their lives. Eventually, the
ship made landfall on a desolate shore far west of Bastion and Rivergate,
past the impenetrable barrier of Death Zones.

Orum and Little Ki said their goodbyes to the ship's crew and captain and
headed deeper inland alone.

It took them a few weeks to reach the River of Tears, which would serve as
their guide on the way north. The estuary of the great river was ruled by a
particularly terrifying Nightmare Creatures, so ships couldn't enter it from
the Stormsea — that was why Orum and the young woman he was
escorting had to travel by land.
Looking at the vast river, Little Ki sighed.

"It's a shame. If someone managed to slay that thing and conquer the
estuary, human territories in the west would have become connected to the
Stormsea, and therefore to the eastern enclaves. They would have started to
develop much faster."

Orum smiled.

"Well, maybe someone will one day in the future. For now, however, a
Corrupted Terror is too dire of an enemy for us humans... it's not impossible
to kill one if enough Ascended joined forces, but many of them would
probably perish."

His smile dimmed a little, and he sighed.

"For now, all we humans can do in the Dream Realm is survive... and even
then just barely. I don't think we'll be able to concern ourselves with things
like progress and development any time soon."

Little Ki remained motionless for a while, looking over the vast expanse of
flowing water with a

thoughtful expression. Eventually, he turned away and aimed her gaze

north.

"Let's go, Uncle Orie."

And so, they did.

There was a Citadel on the shore of the River of Tears a few weeks of travel
north. From there, they would be able to hire a rowboat and sail upstream
— either all the way to the edges of the Moonriver Plains, or until the boat
was destroyed by the abominations populating the river.

Orum and Little Ki had plenty of opportunities to fight side by side on the
way to the Citadel. Of course, he was the main force of the small cohort —
but due to his power and his experience. However, these skirmishes helped
Orum understand just how precious the young woman's Aspect truly was.
It was not even her Awakened Ability, which allowed Little Ki to bring
inanimate puppets to life — those were strong and convenient to have
around, sure, but heavily limited by her ability to construct them. After all,
animating a log would not be very helpful, considering that a log was
relatively fragile and, most importantly, had no articulated limbs.

The young woman had made a few crude dolls out of clay that Orum had
summoned, hardened to resemble granite, and shaped. They were quite
handy, drawing the attention of the Nightmare Creatures away, stalling the
enemies, and giving him a chance to slay the abominations without risking
his own body. If one was destroyed, another one could be built.

Sadly, these dolls were still too weak, no stronger than mundane humans
would be and far more clumsy. Perhaps if Little Ki had spent a fortune to
commission one or two from an Awakened craftsman, things could have
been different, but it was not something they could do now.

...It was her Dormant Ability, however, that made Orum reevaluate the
young woman's Aspect.

Little Ki's insidious power was reasonably strong on its own... but it was
when she fought side by side with someone else that it truly shone.
Especially someone like Orum, who possessed an Aspect capable of dealing
direct damage to the enemy.

With the young woman by his side, his own effectiveness increased
exponentially. That was because Orum did not have to deal fatal wounds to
Nightmare Creatures anymore, which was quite difficult to do. Instead, any
wound sufficed, from relatively severe ones to insignificant and shallow.

If he managed to as much as scratch an abomination by controlling the

earth, Little Ki's power would infect the little wound, slowly making it
more and more dire. The cut would continuously widen and grow deeper,
more and more blood would flow from it, and the flesh surrounding it
would start to rot.

If enough time passed, the scratch would become a deadly wound, draining
the Nightmare Creature of all life. And the more deep the initial wound was,
the less time had to pass.

Watching the abominations die in agony was quite chilling... but also quite
satisfying.

More than that, Orum felt at peace, knowing that with such power, Little Ki
would be welcomed by any cohort. Even the best warriors would benefit
greatly from having her by their side, and that was not even considering her
excellent martial talent and keen mind. So, her future was all but set.

If she survived that journey, of course...

Ensuring that was his job.

1940 Ugly Side

Orum's confidence had not been in vain. In the end, they did make it across
the entirety of the explored area of the Dream Realm alive, even if it took
them many months.

The journey had been dreadful and permeated by the stench of blood, but he
and Little Ki had not had to endure it without respite. They travelled from
one Citadel to another, slowly moving north, and took breaks when arriving
at a new human stronghold.

Sometimes, they simply remained at the Citadel, enjoying the hospitality of

the locals, patching up their wounds, and recuperating. Sometimes, they
used the Gateways to return to the waking world, climb out of the sleeping
pods, and let their tired minds and souls rest by enjoying the lavish
offerings of the modern era.

In the process, Orum had to reevaluate his opinion of the western human
territory in the Dream Realm. Yes, it was far less lively and populated than
the eastern enclaves, but there were still far more people using the isolated
Citadels as shelter than he had expected.

It made sense, in hindsight. The number of Awakened in the world was

increasing with every year, and it was already incomparable to the early
days of the Nightmare Spell that he remembered.

Back then, the Dream Realm was alien and frightening, and meeting a
single human here felt like a blessing. But now, there were whole
communities with hundreds or even thousands Awakened living here. Many
of those Awakened did not even have to fight for their lives every day,
providing valuable services to the warriors or working to maintaining and
improve the Citadels — even in the west.

Some of the Citadels here were small and constantly besieged by

abominations, but others were like small towns, with strong garrisons and
powerful lords leading the people to if not prosperity, then at least stability.
The only thing that was missing was a figure like Warden —someone
strong enough and influential enough to unite the disparate groups of
struggling Awakened and build connections between their strongholds,
allowing humans to cooperate and support each other.

Little Ki was absorbing the reality of this wild land like a sponge, observing
the lives of the local Awakened with her serious, gloomy eyes. She didn't
speak much, but the further north they went, the more her gaze seemed full
of determination.

Eventually, they scaled the Moonriver Plains and came in view of the
mountains where her mother's Citadel stood.

On that day, Orum looked at the sky and saw dark flakes of ash fall from it
like snow.

He lingered for a while, then sighed and then looked at the silent young
woman by his side.

In these months they had spent together, Little Ki had grown from a newly
Awakened novice to an experienced warrior. The excellent foundation of
martial techniques taught to her by Ravenheart bloomed, becoming actual
skill. That skill had been sharpened by countless battles with Nightmare
Creatures, and her character had undergone a subtle change, giving her
more confidence.

Her soul core was also much more potent now, reinforced by hundreds of
soul shards. She had also earned quite a few Memories, and was not at all a
destitute Awakened she had been after her inheritance was stolen by
unscrupulous people.

However...

Orum had not taught her the most important lesson. One that he was
reluctant to teach the daughter of his dead friend and benefactor, but
nevertheless had to.

There was no place for naiveté and innocence in the Dream Realm.
He sighed.

"Little Ki... we will reach the Jade Palace soon."

She nodded, then smiled a little.

Her smile looked a little dark with ash swirling around her pale face.

"Finally."

Orum hesitated for a moment.

"...What do you think will happen when we do? When those people
promised to surrender their claim to your mother's Citadel, they weren't
necessarily being sincere... you know that, right?"

The young woman just stared at him silently, as if not understanding the
question.

He pursed his lips.

"You've grown quite good as battling Nightmare Creatures, Little Ki.

You've done well to survive so far. But you need to realize something
important... out here in the Dream Realm, abominations are not the only
danger. Humans can be just as dangerous as abominations, and just as
monstrous. Do you understand what I am trying to say?"

Orum had matured in the chaos caused by the descent of the Nightmare
Spell, so he knew all too well how hideous and vile humans could be. Little
Ki, however, was raised in the world where relative stability had already
been established —she did not have an opportunity to witness the ugly side
of humanity yet.

Which was a mercy, as far as he was concerned.

The young woman considered his question for a while, then tilted her head
a little, confusion still apparent in her eyes.

"Of course, I understand."

She lingered for a moment, and then added matter-of-factly:

"I'm a human too."

Orum sighed, then nodded and headed west.

"Good. Let's be done with this dreadful journey, then."

They traversed the Moonriver Plain and scaled the mountains, eventually
coming in view of a colossal stone bridge. On its other side, a beautiful
palace that seemed to be cut from obsidian stood, shrouded in a billowing
cloud of ash.

This was where Ravenheart had lived, fought, and died.

The stark landscape was lonesome and beautiful, just like she was in
Orum's mind.

He shivered in the cold and took a step forward.

"We should cross the bridge as fast as we can."

Little Ki followed. As they stepped on the bridge and walked across it,
struggling against the powerful winds, she said suddenly:

"Uncle Orie..."

He spared her a glance.

The young woman remained silent for a few moments, and then said
quietly:

"No matter what happens once we reach the Citadel, don't interfere. I have
to handle it myself. Promise me."

Orum hesitated, but eventually nodded.

"Alright. I won't do anything."

'Unless you're in danger.'

She looked at the distant edifice of the dark palace, cold determination
burning in her eyes.

Suddenly, Orum felt a chilling premonition grasp his heart.

He couldn't quite explain it, but grew tense nonetheless.

1941 Children of a New Era

The inhabitants of the Citadel noticed their approach from afar. By the time
Orum and Little Ki reached the gates of the palace, a small crowd had
already gathered in the great hall beyond, looking at them with varied
emotions.

There were very few Awakened anchored here —no more than thirty. Some
of them looked surprised, some were tense. The latter were probably those
who recognized Little Ki, and knew that they had sinned against this young
woman.

The two battered clay dolls following her attracted quite a few stares, as
well.

Orum stayed back, giving Little Ki space. She walked forward with
confident steps, keeping her hand on the hilt of a Memory sword that rested
in a makeshift scabbard on her belt.

One of the Awakened took a few steps forward, as well, facing her with a
smile. He was a man a few years younger than Orum, with handsome
features and long blonde hair.

There was insincere warmth in his friendly voice:

"Little Ki! Or should I say Awakened Song? Welcome to Jade Palace... we

were all happy to hear that you have survived the winter solstice unscathed.
Warms my heart, really, to know that you are doing well... granted, I am
surprised to see you all the way here. Didn't the Spell send you to
Rivergate? How come you are not there?"

The young woman remained silent for a while, studying him and the other
Awakened gathered in the dark hall. Her expression was cold, and her eyes
were once again full of somber glum... no, not even glum.

They were simply full of darkness, devoid of any human warmth.

Little Ki looked at the blonde man and said calmly:

"Where else would I be? This is my Citadel. I have come to claim what is
mine."

The man hesitated, his smile growing a little cold.

"...Come on, girl. Surely you didn't take what I said the last time we met
seriously? I was just being polite because of how thankful we all were to
your mother. You are an adult now, so you should know better. You and
your friend are most welcome here... in our Citadel. But someone as young
and inexperienced as you is not fit to rule it. Don't you think?"

Little Ki stared at him silently and ignored his question.

Instead, she suddenly asked one of her own:

"Where were you when my mother died?"

The man blinked.

"What?"

She looked around the hall, piercing every Awakened with a cold gaze, and
repeated her question.

"Where were you when my mother died? All of you. She had welcomed
you here. She had fed and protected you. And yet, when she was fighting
against that thing, bleeding, dying... where were you?"

Some of the Awakened looked away, some met her gaze with anger.

The young woman snarled.

"All of you are complicit. All of you are her murderers. And yet you have
the audacity to claim that this is your Citadel. That I am too weak to rule it.
You... you cowards are calling me weak?"

The blonde man's smile disappeared, replaced by a dark expression. His

eyes were suddenly full of malice, making Orum tense up.
"Listen, little girl... I will forgive your rudeness this once. I am quite a
magnanimous person, after all, and so are my people. Considering what we
owe your mother, we are willing to let this entire misunderstanding go. She
was a benevolent and generous person, too... so you should show the same
grace and forgive us as well, like she would have. Carrying resentment in
your heart won't be good for you."

There was a subtle threat in that last sentence.

Little Ki looked at him for a moment, then slowly shook his head.

"...Gods might forgive. But I won't."

He frowned.

"What?"

Little Ki closed her eyes for a moment.

"Then again, gods are dead. And my kind mother is dead, too."

The man's frown deepened...

But before he could say anything, the young woman's hand moved, and her
sword pierced his neck.

His eyes widened, and a torrent of blood flowed from his mouth.

Standing near the gate of the palace, Orum flinched, shocked.

Little Ki, meanwhile, shook the corpse of the blonde man off her sword and
took a step forward. Her expression did not change at all, as if she had not
just killed a human being.

The rest of the Awakened were a few seconds too late to react. Some reeled
back, some reached for their weapons or began to summon Memories.

The young woman wielding a bloodied sword did not say anything more,
dashing forward in eerie silence. Her two puppets moved, too.
Orum stood frozen near the wall, watching the battle in horror. He had
already known how skilled Little Ki was, and how eerie her Aspect was...
but he had never seen her Ability used against fellow humans.

Only when he saw Awakened scream and try to stem the flow of blood from
wounds that had seemed shallow, falling to the ground in agony, did he
realize how terrifying and morbid the young woman's power truly was.

And how chillingly ruthless she was.

Taking lives, gifting death.

There were almost thirty Awakened in the Jade Palace, but they were no
match for one of the most talented students of the Academy. If they were
strong, they would not have run away or hidden themselves when
Ravenheart faced her last enemy... still, they could have easily
overwhelmed Little Ki with sheer numbers.

If they were brave enough, and decisive enough.

But they were not, and she gave them no time to get their fear under
control.

No... in fact, she purposefully terrified and intimidated them, killing the
first few in the most gruesome and cruel way.

After that... it was a slaughter.

The clay puppets eventually fell, their bodies broken and shattered, but the
young woman was relentless.

As Orum stood, motionless, she methodically killed most of the Awakened

in the hall. Some tried to escape, but she hunted them down one after
another. No one was spared. Her retribution was cruel, thorough, and
merciless.

Some time later, the dark hall of the Jade Palace was the scene of a morbid
massacre. Dozens of mutilated bodies littered the floor, and a lake of blood
gathered on the floor, glistening coldly in the light of crude torches.
Little Ki was standing in the center of that crimson lake, breathing heavily.
She was soaked in the blood herself from head to toe — much of this blood
was her own, but most was not.

And yet...

Her expression was still calm and indifferent, as if what she had done was
nothing special.

As if what she had done was only natural.

It was not the slaughter, but that lack of shock, trauma, and remorse that
made Orum feel as if his heart was constricted and full of terror.

This was that they were lake...

The children of the new era.

Those born into the world of the Nightmare Spell.

Frowning deeply, Orum finally moved and walked slowly toward Little
Ki... toward Ki Song.

As he approached, he looked at him and smiled.

"Uncle Orie... I am done here. We can take the Gateway next."

She did not even seem to notice how disturbed he was, and had not assumed
that he would be.

Orum studied the bleeding corpses silently.

Eventually, he faced her and asked, his voice trembling a little:

"This... this... do you think that this is what your mother would have
wanted?"

The young woman looked at him strangely.

She frowned a little, as if confused by his question once again.

Then, she shook her head.

"No, of course not. My mother was a very kind person."

Before he could say anything, Ki Song sighed and added, her voice an odd
mix of sorrow, longing, and resentment:

"That is why she is dead."

She looked at the people she had killed, gave one of the corpses a kick, and
looked at Orum with calm indifference.

"It is just how you have taught us, Uncle Orie. The world is a ruthless place,
and the Spell will not show us any mercy. There is no place for kindness in
this world."

He shivered slightly, hearing his own words come out of her bloodied
mouth, spoken so easily and with such confidence. As if it was a trivial
truth.

'That is not... what I meant...'

But instead of saying that, Orum winced and covered his face with a palm
for a moment. Eventually, he sighed.

"You still made a mistake, Ki Song. Whether they deserved to die or not,
you still needed them. One person can't defend a Citadel... you should have
executed the leaders and brought others to heel. You need warriors to serve
you! Otherwise, the first swarm of Nightmare Creatures will make the Jade
Palace their nest."

The young woman looked around, then smiled brightly.

"About that... I've been thinking about my Aspect lately, Uncle Orie. These
clay puppets we've made, I think they were the wrong solution all along."

Orum frowned, not understanding what she meant.

...He remained confused up until the moment the first of the corpses
suddenly moved, and then slowly rose to the ground.

Ki Song rubbed her chin, and then nodded in satisfaction.

"Yes. This works much better."

1942 Master Orum

The last memory of Master Orum Cassie showed Sunny took place several
years later. By then, the Jade Palace — now known as Ravenheart — had
already become a thriving Citadel, attracting thousands of humans from the
eastern reaches of the Dream Realm.

Ki Song herself had become a renowned Awakened, her fame second only
to that of those three brilliant stars of her generation — Smile of Heaven,
Broken Sword, and Anvil of Valor. Her influence and authority spread all
the way to the estuary of the River of Tears, where a Corrupted Terror still
dwelled, blocking convenient access to the Stormsea.

The prominent families of the First Generation were already being called
the Legacy Clans. Valor, Immortal Flame, and the newly established House
of Night were at the height of their power, known as the best among equals.
No one called them the Great Clans, yet, but the idea of some distinguished
families being a cut above the rest was already apparent.

Clan Song was relatively small and unassuming when compared to these
titans.

Orum's relationship with Ki Song, however... had grown distant over the
years. After helping her settle in the newly retaken Jade Palace, he made the
long journey back home, where his own Citadel was waiting for him. They
still saw each other in the waking world from time to time, but not too
often.

It was partially because both were terribly busy with their own affairs, and
partially because Orum did not feel completely comfortable around Little
Ki anymore. That strange discomfort made him feel both ashamed and
conflicted, but he could not do anything about how he felt.

That young woman... frightened him, a little.

Many things happened since the day she massacred the people whom her
mother had died to protect. New regions of the Dream Realm were explored
and conquered. The number of Awakened continued to grow exponentially.
Orum himself finally challenged the Second Nightmare and became a
Master, receiving his Legacy Relic as a reward.

His niece turned sixteen and became a carrier of the Nightmare Spell.

Which was why he was now back at the Awakened Academy, preparing to
continue educating her in an official capacity.

The first batch of Sleepers had yet to arrive, so there was nothing much for
him to do. Orum checked the equipment in the dojo, then visited the
medical complex, and finally made his way to the cafeteria to have an early
lunch.

His steps slowed down as soon as he entered, though.

That was because there was someone familiar sitting behind one of the
tables in the mostly empty dining hall.

Little Ki looked quite different now. She was still young, but the teenage
girl he remembered was gone, replaced by a mature young woman. She had
to be... twenty-four, twenty-five by now? Her gloomy awkwardness was
replaced by confident grace, and her ravishing beauty was impossible to
ignore.

Orum hesitated for a moment, then put on a smile and headed in her
direction.

"Awakened Song. It is so nice to see you, young lady... how have you
been?"

Her own charming smile seemed quite sincere.

"Master Orum! I didn't expect to run into you here. I am doing well, thank
you... what about you?"

He sighed.
"My niece has just conquered her First Nightmare, so I am back at the
Academy to help prepare her for the winter solstice. But what brings you
here? Are planning to teach a class or consulting one of the specialists?"

Ki Song leaned back a little, glanced at the empty chairs surrounding her
table, and echoed his sigh.

"No. I am meeting a few colleagues to discuss an important matter. We

chose the Academy to reminisce a little. Sadly, they seem to be running a
little late... well, their time can be said to be more valuable than mine."

There was a gentle hint of dissatisfaction in her voice.

Orum remained silent for a moment, then smiled.

"Well, I'll scold them if you want. For now, though, I'll leave you and go get
something to eat... we should catch up after your meeting is over, though. I
really want to hear all about how your Citadel is doing."

The shallow politeness of their conversation pained him deeply. But at the
same time, he felt a little relieved to have a way out.

Orum excused himself and went to take a seat a few tables away.

By the time his food arrived, a few new faces appeared in the cafeteria.

It was a very august reunion.

Smile and Heaven and Broken Sword — his former students — arrived
first. The two had been attached at the hip ever since their days at the
Academy, but were officially married now.

They were a beautiful couple, indeed.

Broken Sword spoke first, his calm voice too strong and confident to be
ignored:

"Awakened Song. Please forgive us for being late."

Smile of Heaven grinned and landed on a chair next to Ki Song, grasping
her shoulder in a friendly manner.

"Song! I haven't seen you in ages... since the wedding, I think? What, did
you not like the cake? Impossible... mom personally made that cake..."

Not long after, two more people arrived.

One was Anvil of Valor, as composed and serious as ever, while the other...
the other was an unfamiliar youth with a pleasant smile on his lips. Orum
would have mistaken him for one of the Sleepers who were supposed to
arrive at the Academy in the next few days, if not for the fact that the
teenager was obviously already an Awakened.

The two of them took their places across from Broken Sword and Smile of
Heaven, Anvil greeting everyone with a few short words.

The five Awakened remained silent for a few moments, but then Broke
Sword suddenly slapped Anvil on the shoulder and smiled brightly.

"Congratulations! I hear you're a father now. Gods, you didn't waste any
time, did you, Vale? I can't believe you have a son…"

Anvil glanced coldly at his shoulder, then cleared his throat.

"Well. Yes. In any case... we should discuss the preparations, shouldn't we?
You know that I have invited Awakened Song to join us. Naturally, she
needs no introduction — we all know how excellent Ki is. This young man,
however..."

He looked at the smiling youth, lingered for a moment, and then added
calmly:

"This is Asterion. We met in Bastion, and I believe that he will be of great

help when we challenge the Second Nightmare..."

***
Orum's memory ended there. He moved further away to avoid
eavesdropping on the conversation, not knowing that what he was
witnessing was the inception of the legendary cohort that would shake the
foundations of the world.

After that, Sunny found himself back in the damp cell, looking into Cassie's
beautiful blue eyes through Orum's own. The ironclad figure of the King of
Sword towered behind her — both familiar and unrecognizably changed.

The features of the young man Orum had once taught could still be
recognized on the somber face of the Sovereign, but just barely. Anvil's
gaze was infinitely heavier than it had been once, and there was no hint of
human emotions in it anymore.

Only the cold indifference of sharpened steel.

Cassie lingered for a moment, feeling tired and drained of essence. There
were other spies she would have to interrogate, too...

She sighed, and then rose from her knees. Taking a step back, she faced
Anvil.

"...I have learned what you asked for, Your Majesty."

Cassie lingered for a moment before adding:

"For what it's worth, Master Orum's family does not seem to be aware of his
actions. Saint Helie... her loyalty was not compromised."

Anvil gave her a curt nod and stepped closer to Orum, looking down at him
with a cold expression.

When he spoke, however, a hint of emotion finally found its way into his
usually even voice:

"...Was it worth it, teacher? To betray your own for that woman? I wonder
what she had offered you to change sides."
Orum looked up at him and smiled darkly, no sign of fear or regret written
on his weathered face.

After a few moments of silence, he said slowly:

"Worth it? Sure... I guess it was. I finally managed to repay my debt, at

least."

Anvil took a deep breath and looked away.

"You are a fool. She is a monster, don't you know? To her, people's lives
have little value. She'll gladly rule the living, but if that's not an option...
she'll rule the dead, as well. Did you really wish to leave your family in a
world she would create?"

Orum looked at him for a while, then snarled, his eyes turning cold with
contempt.

"A monster? All of you are monsters. But she... sees us as people, at least.
To you, we're all just tools to be studied, used, and reforged. We're merely
your swords. Say what you will about that girl, but Littke Ki... she has
never treated people as objects. Look at her daughters. She has done right
by them."

He looked at Anvil with pity and smiled.

His smile was pale and sad, but there was also a hint of defiant pride in his
tired eyes.

"...What have you done? What kind of heartless world are you going to
create?"

Anvil stared down at the old man from above, not saying anything.

The silence stretched for a few moments, but then...

Something moved.
Cassie felt piercing pain and flinched, her hand jerking up to grasp her
neck.

At the same time, her vision spun.

For a moment, she saw the stone roof of the chamber, then its damp wall,
then the floor. And finally, a body falling over, surrounded by the rattling of
chains.

Then, Cassie was blind once again.

She was standing motionlessly near the King of Swords, while Master
Orum... Master Orum's beheaded body lay at her feet.

He was dead.

The nauseating stench of blood assaulted Cassie's nostrils, and she held her
breath.

Then, she raised her hands and hid her eyes behind her blue blindfold.

Somewhere near, Anvil let out a heavy sigh.

He remained silent for a dozen seconds, then turned to her, regaining his
emotionless composure.

His voice sounded calm:

"Lady Cassia... there are more prisoners waiting to be interrogated. If you

will."

She allowed herself to linger for a moment, and then bowed her head
respectfully.

"...Yes, my king."
1943 Raven Queen

Cassie released her Transformation, and Sunny was finally freed from the
torrent of alien memories.

He exhaled slowly and looked away, staring into the distance with an absent
expression.

Witnessing human memories was not at all like reading a book or watching
a recording — they were often vague and disjointed, sometimes withered
and shallow, sometimes fresh and intensely vivid. It was hard to make sense
of them, and it was even harder to fathom their every nuance.

Sunny was still reeling from receiving such a great amount of information
in such a short amount of time.

What was more... he was still reeling from witnessing the life of Master
Orum.

It was such a strange thing. The old man was a complete stranger to him,
and yet, Sunny felt so close to him. How could he not, after experiencing
what Cassie had gleaned?

It was because of this unearned closeness that Sunny felt shaken by Orum's
death at the hands of the King of Swords.

As if he had lost an old friend.

He sighed and looked down, considering Master Orum's long life and bitter
death.

It felt wrong, for a member of the First Generation to die so ingloriously,

hidden from everyone's sight in a small stone cell... by another human's
hand. The old man had witnessed so much, had fought so hard, and had
survived so many dreadful ordeals. He had lived through the darkest days of
humanity and saw a new world being built on the ruins of the old one.

And yet, his storied life had come to such a grievous end.
At least he had been at peace, in those last moments. He had perished loyal
his principles, finally at ease for having repaid the debt to his long-lost
friend.

That did not really do anything to assuage the bitterness Sunny felt... but it
was at least something.

Orum had cared deeply about Ravenheart and her daughter, after all.

'Ki Song.'

Sunny wondered if the Queen of Worms cared about the old man, in turn.
Would his death sadden her, like it had saddened him? Or was the shy little
girl Orum had met once, a long time ago, completely gone?

Replaced by a Supreme being whose heart and mind were closer to those of
a deity than those of a human, and therefore devoid of humanity...

Sunny did not know.

His thoughts drifted to Ki Song herself.

Cassie had not been wrong — they learned a lot about the Sovereigns, and
Ki Song in particular, from Master Orum's memories.

Her roots, her scars... the details of her Aspect, the formative experiences
that had made her who she was today. Of course, there was plenty Sunny
did not know about the Queen of Song, since there were vast swathes of her
life that Orum had not been privy to. But he knew enough to infer many
things.

In fact, there was almost too much for him to mull over.

He did not even know where to start.

'First... her character.'

Queen Song was without a doubt an entirely different being from the person
Little Ki had been. Time changed people, and so did impactful events... and
she had experienced plenty of those. More than most people ever would.

If even the world itself had been fundamentally altered by the things Ki
Song had lived through and made happen, how could she have remained the
same? And that was not even accounting for the inevitable changes that
walking the Path of Ascension caused.

Both Sunny and Cassie were examples of how deeply people transformed
as a result of attaining higher Ranks. The way they lived, thought, and
perceived the world was quite different from mundane humans. Ki Song,
meanwhile, had walked down the Path of Ascension much further than they
had... than any human of the waking world had, except for the other two
Sovereigns.

...And yet, some things about a person never changed.

'If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a
hundred battles.'

Was that not what Nephis had told him once, in the depths of the Third
Nightmare?

Sunny would not go as far as to say that he knew Ki Song now, but he knew
her a fair bit.

She had been born in the year of the Nightmare Spell's descent. Her mother
had been a benevolent, but solitary Awakened warrior. Ravenheart spent
most of her time in the Dream Realm, so Ki Song must have felt lonely,
growing up near her quietly humming sleeping pod.

And yet, she had loved her mother fiercely. She had also felt proud of her,
because her mother was one of the most powerful Awakened in the world...
but not the most powerful.

It did not escape Sunny's attention how neglected young Ki Song had felt in
the company of the true aristocrats like Anvil and Smile of Heaven. It must
have been an awkward position for a child to be in — to come from a
family that was prominent enough to be included in the gatherings of the
nascent Legacy Clans, but not prominent enough to garner much respect or
attention from them.

Especially considering her talent, which was in no way inferior to those

who were seen as her betters.

And then, there was Ravenheart's tragic death, and the ruthless retribution
young Ki Song had delivered to those who had stood by and done nothing
while her mother was dying.

It was funny... Orum had been terrified by her callous disregard for the
sanctity of human life and her cruel ruthlessness, but Sunny did not see
anything wrong with it. Sure, Ki Song did not only kill those directly
responsible for stealing her inheritance, but also every bystander who had
failed to help Ravenheart...

However, Sunny was not at all certain that he would have been any more
merciful if someone's cowardice contributed to Rain's death. In fact, he
would have probably been much more ruthless.

That just went to show that the new generations were indeed different from
those born before the Nightmare Spell... for better or for worse.

In any case, although Orum's memories did not show what had happened
after the massacre in the Jade Palace, Sunny already knew a lot, and could
deduce the rest.

In the span of several years, Ki Song had elevated the status of her Citadel
to one of the most populous human strongholds in the East. She slowly
expanded her sphere of influence, clearing routes through the Dream Realm
to connect various Citadels to each other, and became the cornerstone of
human forces there, just like Warden of Valor and Bastion were in the West.

At some point, she joined Broken Sword's cohort and challenged the
Second Nightmare, becoming a Master and earning wide renown.
Following that, Ki Song defeated the Corrupted Terror ruling the estuary of
the River of Tears, opening the path to the Stormsea and strengthening the
ties between the East and the West.
Thus helping all Awakened deepen their roots in the inhospitable soil of the
Dream Realm.

While Anvil was waging war against the Dark Forest and leading human
conquest of new territories in the north, she was busy working on
developing the basin of the River of Tears and strengthening human
position there. That helped Clan Song soar to the pinnacle of prominence.

...And at some point during those years, she had also found and claimed the
divine lineage of Beast God.
1944 Footsteps of War

Sunny did not miss the fact that neither Ravenheart nor her daughter had
seemed to possess the lineage in the early years of the Nightmare Spell era.
At the Academy, Orum had noted that Smile of Heaven and Anvil were
exhibiting unexplainable physical prowess and strength... but Ki Song was
not.

That was because by then, Immortal Flame had already claimed the Lineage
Memory of Sun God, while Warden of Valor had already found the Lineage
Memory of War God. Nighwalker, meanwhile, had most likely already
gained the Lineage Memory of Storm God.

Sunny did not know how Ki Song earned the Lineage Memory of her own
or where, but she definitely had not inherited a divine bloodline, like Smile
of Heaven and Anvil did. Instead, she found it at some point after
Awakening, just like their parents had.

Then, she followed Broken Sword into the Third Nightmare and attained
Sainthood. By then, Clan Song would have already been considered one of
the Great Clans.

And then, finally... after both Smile of Heaven and Broken Sword were
gone... the Raven Queen would be born in the crucible of the Fourth
Nightmare, cementing her power over the world.

It was admirable, really. Sunny could not help but feel awe at what that
woman had achieved. He would have applauded Ki Song... if he wasn't
planning to kill her, and was therefore at great risk of being killed by her
first.

If anything, Sunny would have dearly preferred if his adversary was less
outstanding.

He rubbed his face and sighed.

Sunny felt a little conflicted now that the enemy he had been thinking about
so much had a face in his mind. Both Ki Song and Anvil — despite how
valuable it was to have seen where they had come from, it was harder to
hate them after witnessing them as children and inexperienced youths.

But, at the same time, it only made him resent them more. Because he had
seen the world of their youth, with all its countless possibilities... and knew
what they had turned it into, in the end.

Regardless...

Knowing what he now knew about Ki Song now , he felt that he could
understand her actions in the war a little better, and maybe even predict
what she would do next, to some degree.

Sunny looked at Cassie.

"Her Flaw..."

Although Little Ki had never confessed it to Orum, there were a few hints.
Witnessing the old man's memories and knowing how her life would turn
out in the future, he could make a cautious guess.

Cassie leaned back in her chair.

"It has to be connected to family, right?"

Sunny nodded.

"Right."

Back then, Ki Song had just lost her mother and faced her First Nightmare
almost immediately after. There, she earned her Aspect, and her Flaw.

Her expression had changed subtly when she told Orum that she did not
have a family anymore... as if she wanted to say that she would never have
one again, either.
Had Ki Song adopted Seishan and other orphan girls because she was
unable to have children of her own?

That would be a bitter Flaw to bear for someone that lonely, indeed.

Of course, Sunny could not be sure.

He frowned.

"That is... not exactly what I was hoping for. If that is indeed her Flaw, it
won't be easy to exploit."

Cassie sighed.

"But not impossible."

Her expression turned somber.

"You did not miss it, did you?"

Sunny slowly shook his head, knowing what she was talking about.

Perhaps the most important detail of Orum's memories did not have
anything to do with Ki Song, actually.

Instead, it had to do with Anvil.

Due to the fact that Ki Song had been a lonesome child and slaughtered
everyone who could have known her well, there weren't any people Sunny
and Cassie could seek out to learn more about her most important secrets.
Even her daughters might not know much about their regal mother.

But it was different for Anvil. Orum remembered that the youngest son of
the founder of Clan Valor had been entrusted to his father's comrades soon
after Awakening, to be trained by them and gain experience in the Dream
Realm.

Those people would know more about him than anyone else. So, if Sunny
and Cassie wanted to learn the weakness of the King of Sword, they were
the ones that had to be found.

Sunny stared at Cassie with a heavy expression.

"...How many members of the Warden's cohort are still alive?"

She let out a heavy sigh.

"Many prominent Awakened of the First Generation perished while trying

to conquer the Third Nightmare, as you know... including Warden of Valor
himself. That is why there are so few of them around. As for his cohort —
as far as I know, there's only one person left. We must get to him."

Sunny lingered for a moment.

"You're not suggesting that we should kidnap Saint Jest, are you?"

Cassie raised an eyebrow.

"Why? Has the old man's amiable act fooled you?"

Sunny slowly shook his head.

"Not really."

She leaned forward a little.

"Good. Because he is more sinister than you can imagine, and probably the
most prolific killer of this era. Worst of all, there are people loyal to Valor,
and then there's Jest of Dagonet. His devotion to the King is absolute. So...
whether we like it or not, he'll turn his malice toward us sooner or later."

Sunny looked at her with a grim expression.

"That might be true, but he is a Saint and one of Anvil's most trusted
people. I doubt that he'll share what he knows voluntarily, so how do you
expect us to take him without Anvil noticing?"

Cassie grimaced, then shrugged.

"The war is chaotic. There will be an opportunity, I'm sure."

Her voice sounded determined, but tired. She had been exhausted even
before showing Sunny Orum's memories, and her fatigue must have only
grown worse as a result.

He closed his eyes for a moment.

There was a lot to think about. He would have to go over everything he had
learned, examining each event and every detail for hints he had missed. He
would have to contemplate all of it deeply, as well.

Of course... Nephis would have to be brought up to speed, too.

Sunny suddenly looked at Cassie.

"These memories... will you show them to Nephis?"

She nodded silently.

A sigh escaped from Sunny's lips.

"...Good."

These scenes were merely a source of information for them.

But for Nephis, they would be something more.

She had lost her father as a young child, after all. As for her mother, Nephis
had never met her at all — the only image of Smile of Heaven she had was
that of a hollow shell.

Seeing them like Sunny and Cassie had seen them in Orum's memories,
young and happy, would mean a lot for Changing Star... the last daughter of
the Immortal Flame Clan.

Sunny sighed, feeling a little happy for Nephis.

But also a little envious of her.

After all, there was no one in the world who remembered his own parents.
The only image of them that remained was hidden in his own memory,
growing more blurry with each year.

Raising from his chair, Sunny threw one last look at Cassie and turned
away.

"Rest well, Cas. And... good job. We indeed learned a lot today."

Leaving her chambers, he descended the stairs and exited the Ivory Tower.

Outside, the warcamp of the Sword Army was boiling with activity.

The war raged on.

In fact...

Now that both Domains had descended into Godgrave, it was about to grow
much fiercer.
1945 Spreading Domains

The nature of war did indeed change after the invading armies of humanity
conquered two of the ancient Citadels in Godgrave.

The authority of the King of Swords now stretched from east to west,
covering vast areas of the Collarbone Plain and the Breastbone Reach.
Anvil had waged a terrifying battle against the inhabitants of the Hollows
after arriving at the smoldering ruins of the Citadel, eventually clearing a
safe area around the lake.

The lake itself grew shallow and drained in a few days, thought, turning
into a nearly impassable marsh.

The Sword Army established a secondary camp above the closest fissure
and stationed a formidable garrison to guard the Gateway in the Hollows.
From there, they started a tentative exploration of pathways to the
remaining two Citadels — once situated far below, in the spine of the dead
deity, the other at the very edges of the Sea of Ash, on one of the titanic's
skeleton femurs.

Neither were easy to reach, let alone conquer. The path to the Spine Ocean
was perilous and hard to navigate, while the dark waters below were home
to untold horrors. The femur Citadel in the south was relatively easier to
reach, especially considering that the Nameless Temple, the stronghold of
the Lord of Shadows, was located on the southernmost point of the
Breastbone Reach.

However, the territory of the Cursed Tyrant, Condemnation, lay between the
lands conquered by the Sword Army and the Nameless Temple. There were
other Cursed Ones dwelling in the Hollows, as well — even the Sovereigns
did not dare to provoke those beings lightly.

So, the conquest of the King of Swords was temporarily stalled.

On the other side of Godgrave, the influence of the Song Army was
similarly growing.
Seishan and Death Singer had conquered the Citadel in the western part of
the Collarbone Plain, finally allowing the Song Domain to descend upon
Godgrave... and for the Queen of Worms to appear personally, as well.

The battered soldiers of Song were saved from the depths of despair by the
arrival of their Queen. Immediately after appearing, she slew a Great
Demon and eradicated the stampede of Nightmare Creatures threatening to
swallow the trapped expedition force, rescuing both the exhausted warriors
and her two daughters.

And Rain, who had been fighting on the frontline with the Seventh Legion.

The dire pressure on the entire Song Army drastically reduced now that
they were supported by Ki Song and her Domain. Their precarious position
in the west of the Collarbone Plain had become nearly unassailable, and the
territories conquered by them were slowly encroaching on the northern
boundary of the Breastbone Reach.

Of course, the Song Army was also aiming for the two remaining Citadels.
They had almost no hope of reaching the Citadel in the south before the
forces of Valor due to sheer distance, but the one in the spine of the dead
deity was still within their reach.

On paper, Song still seemed like the losing side. After all, they only
controlled one Citadel in Godgrave, cornered on the western part of the
Collarbone Plain.

The Sword Army, meanwhile, controlled three —or two and a half, if one
considered the lukewarm loyalty of the Lord of Shadows — its vast sphere
of influence dwarfing that of Song and stretching all the way from the
eastern edge of the dead deity's collarbone to the southern boundary of the
Breastbone Reach.

However, if one looked beyond the mere marking on the map, the strength
of the two armies would seem more or less equal.

While the Song Army controlled much less territory, it also possessed many
more Saints. More than that, Prince Mordret was still besieging his father's
Domain from the south. His seemingly inevitable march north had been
halted by the tall walls of Bastion — for now — but no one knew how long
Princess Morgan would be able to contain the terrifying power of her
traitorous brother.

The outcome of the war was still uncertain, and the future of the world still
hung in fragile balance.

Which was good news for Sunny and Nephis, who needed the Sovereigns to
weaken each other.

The three leaders of the Sword Army's expedition force had temporarily
parted ways.

The Lord of Shadows was dispatched back to the Nameless Temple in order
to defend it and prepare raids on the supply lines of the Song Army, just like
he had been supposed to do before the fall of the House of Night. Summer
Knight was left in charge of the lesser camp of the Sword Army in the
Breastbone Reach.

Nephis was eventually sent back to the main camp in order to mobilize the
fresh forces there and helm the expansion of the Sword Domain's territory.

It was then that Sunny learned a peculiar fact about the Domains —
something that he had not known before.

In his mind, the territory of a Domain had always been strictly dictated by
the power of its ruler and the location of loyal Citadels. Sunny had usually
imagined the influence of a Sovereign akin to his own shadow sense — as a
formless sphere that spread to a certain distance, centered around its source.

Only, in the case of Supreme Domains supported by the Nightmare Spell,

their source were the Sovereigns themselves, while each Citadel that
belonged to them served as a powerful relay that increased the reach of their
authority.

But reality turned out to be more nuanced than that.

Not only did the Citadels channel the power of the Sovereigns, but each of
their subjects anchored at those Citadels was a vessel of their Domains, as
well. At least that was what Sunny had surmised after observing the
movements of both armies.

Perhaps there was a more complicated process involved, but the truth
remained the same — the more ground the soldiers gained, burning down
the scarlet jungle and establishing fortified strongholds on the surface of the
ancient bone, the further the reach of the Domains spread. The increase was
minuscule when compared to the benefit of having a Citadel nearby, but
still significant.

Now, the previous orders of both Anvil and Ki Song made more sense to
Sunny.

Laboriously conquering the territory between the main warcamp and the
fissure leading to the Garden Castle had not been simply for the sake of
helping the army entrench itself in Godgrave and provide reliable support
for the frontline fighters — it was also to help the Sword Domain stretch,
uninterrupted, all the way from northeast to center of the Breastbone Reach
as soon as the Citadel was conquered.

Now that it did...

Both armies continued to push the scarlet jungle back and claim more and
more land.

The Song Domain was spreading south, toward the territory of the Sword
Domain. The Sword Domain was spreading north, toward the territory of
the Song Domain.

Which meant that the two armies were going to clash soon.

The scarlet infestation would not be their only enemy in Godgrave for much
longer.

...There were still a few days left before that happened, though.
And Sunny was determined to use these few days well. In particular, he
hoped to thoroughly explore the unexpected benefits he had earned in the
battle against Revel, pushing his mastery of weaving to a new level.
1946 Divine Shadow

Although the battle in the Hollows had dealt a heavy blow to the Sword
Army, Sunny himself received quite a boon as a result of facing Revel and
her true darkness. Robbed of most of his powers, he had been forced to rely
on his

Shadows to prevail, and discovered a new facet of his Aspect in the process.

That timely discovery had helped Sunny defeat the daughter of Ki Song...
but its repercussions were much wider than a momentary triumph. He felt
that the ability to augment his Shadows and his Memories personally could
potentially propel his mastery of Shadow Dance and weaving to new
heights.

In fact, Sunny suspected that he had stumbled onto one of the cornerstones
of what a divine shadow like him was meant to be. Not that he was obliged
to follow someone else's designs — he had done quite well by being his
own independent person so far, after all, instead of acting as a loyal minion
of the being casting him.

Even if his Aspect originated directly from Shadow God, it was folly to
assume that a long-dead deity had known better what its uses would be in
the distant and dire future of the Nightmare Spell.

Still, the discovery held so much promise that it left Sunny impatient, giddy
with anticipation, and almost breathless. He felt something that he had not
felt in a while — the pure excitement of an explorer. Even if what he was
going to explore were the depths of his own power, it was still uncharted
territory.

The Lord of Shadows had returned to the Nameless Temple, and Nephis
was still on her way back to the main camp of the Sword Army. So, Master
Sunless had little to do for now — locking himself in the basement of the
Marvelous Mimic, Sunny dedicated himself to research and
experimentation.
There were two avenues he wanted to explore.

The first one was his newly discovered ability to augment his Shadows,
which allowed him to gain a profoundly deep understanding of their
physical nature. It also allowed him a glimpse into the nature of their
powers and mindset, albeit to a more shallow degree — for now, at least.

Needless to say, such a source of profound knowledge about how the bodies
of his Shadows were built and functioned could potentially do wonders for
his ability to construct faithful Shadow Shells, as well as push the intricacy
of his control over Shadow Manifestation to a new level.

Sunny suspected that the path to the next step of Shadow Dance lay in that
direction.

Right now, his Shells were a crude fusion of emulation and improvisation.
His most natural Shell, for example, was the giant version of himself —
Sunny knew his own body the best, after all, so reconstructing it was
relatively easy.

Which was not to say that it was simple. Many things went into building
this powerful Shell, from deep knowledge of human anatomy, material
science, and basic physics to more esoteric subjects like souls, essence, and
will. Much of that complexity was miraculously solved by Shadow Dance,
but the process still required a lot of conscious effort from Sunny.

A Shadow Shell was not a perfect replica of the original, but it was close
enough. For example, Sunny did not need to recreate things like the heart,
the blood, and the digestive system when turning into the Shadow Colossus
— however, he did need to create a semblance of things like bone structure,
musculature, tendons, and so on.

That was how the Shadow Colossus was able to move and fight effectively.
The foundation was rebuilt, while all the parts that Sunny neglected to
shape were substituted by the intricate use of Shadow Control, and the
whole Shell was empowered by his essence.
Of course, building such a complicated Shell required him to get inventive
with using Shadow Manifestation, as well. Sunny had gotten quite adept at
manifesting shadows in various ways, manipulating not only their shape,
but also their physical attributes.

He could easily control such traits of the manifested shadows as rigidity,

elasticity, viscosity, density, and so on. He could make them rough or
slippery, solid or fluid, dense or porous... of course, there were limits to
how sophisticated these manipulations were.

Sunny could manifest a shadow as a liquid, but he could not make it

resemble water in all regards. He could make the surface of a manifested
shadow slippery, but he could not turn it into actual ice. While sufficient for
his purposes, his ability to finely control the physical attributes of shadows
was relatively crude.

...This was going to change now.

While augmenting Saint, Sunny had sensed the structure and composition
of her stonelike body with stunning clarity, as if it was his own. Even
greater than that, really, considering the mystical nature and legendary
origin of his taciturn Shadow.

Those turbulent moments alone had given him some insight into how to
improve his Shadow Manifestation and potentially build a Shell of a Stone
Saint, one superior in quality and faithfulness than any other Shell he had
created before. The benefit did not end there, though — on the contrary, that
spark of inspiration was merely the appetizer.

Sunny could also augment Fiend, Nightmare, and Marvelous Mimic,

learning more about how their bodies were constructed. The more
comprehensive examples he had to compare, the more he would be able to
understand and infer, and the better his skill would eventually become.

And there lay the source of his excitement...

Because he had Serpent.

And Serpent could assume the forms of thousands of creatures whose silent
shadows dwelled in Sunny's soul, waiting to become fuel for his
development.

'...I've struck a jackpot.'

What Sunny now possessed was basically a vast library of all kinds of
beings, all ready to be studied and fathomed by him. From the Mountain
King to the abominations of Godgrave, he could potentially learn from
them all.

And by attaining all that knowledge... who knew what Sunny would be able
to achieve?

He couldn't even imagine.

Or rather... maybe he could.

Standing in the basement of the Brilliant Emporium, Sunny suddenly

shivered. His eyes widened a little, full of shock and fear, glistening with
ambition and greed.

'Shadow Dance.'

He had often wondered, of course, what the final form of Shadow Dance
was supposed to be. He had already mastered four of its steps, but three still
remained, both alluring and elusive.

The first four steps of Shadow Slave were about sensing the essence of a
being to shadow their mind, skill, and overall form. The fourth step in
particular had allowed Sunny to delve into the physical structure of
creatures both deeper and faster, which allowed him to shadow them more
perfectly by assuming the same shape as them through the use of Shadow
Shell.

But there was a glaring difference between the forms Sunny assumed and
the beings he endeavored to shadow.
It was that he could not replicate their Attributes, Aspects, and mystical
powers.

He could become a five-meter tall adamantine troll to resemble Fiend, but

he could not breathe out jets of infernal flame.

...But what if he could?

If he was supposed to be a divine shadow, then what was the shadow of a

god supposed to look like? Was it supposed to only replicate the general
shape of the being casting it, or was it supposed to replicate more?

All of it, perhaps?

Overwhelmed by these thoughts, Sunny made a tentative guess about what

the final form of Shadow Dance was meant to be. It was the ability to
become a true shadow of a being — all of them, including their mystical
powers and authorities —not just their shape.

The fifth step of Shadow Step, then...

Would have to encompass the ability to shadow a being's Attributes.

Some of them, at least.

1947 Formlessness

Sunny's theory that mastering the remaining steps of Shadow Dance would
allow him to shadow the Attributes and Aspects of other people, as well as
profane powers of Nightmare Creatures, was not built entirely on pure
conjecture.

Sure, his intuition was telling him he was right, but sadly, his intuition was
not what it used to be now that Sunny was cut off from fate.

However, there was also something that corroborated his theory. A piece of
information that Sunny had noted a long time ago, but never managed to
explain before now.

It was the scope of powers that the Mad Prince had seemed to possess.

The Mad Prince, Sunny's own past self, had been a Corrupted Titan. He had
attained Transcendence — or rather, descended into the abyss of Corruption
— all on his own. He had also formed the Titan Core in the depths of the
Tomb of Ariel, somehow, despite the dire number of shadow fragments that
would have required.

Sunny himself was currently facing the problem of how slow the process of
building a new Shadow Core was, so he knew very well what the easiest
way to absorb a vast amount of shadow fragments would be.

It was to slay other shadow creatures.

So, he had a strong suspicion that the Mad Prince had slain his own
Shadows to become a Titan. Considering that none of the Shadows had
been heard of by the people of the Great River, that suspicion was all but
confirmed.

So, then...

How had the Mad Prince been able to visit Ananke in her dreams and
instruct her where to meet Sunny and Nephis? If Nightmare had been killed,
then he wouldn't have been able to use the black steed's [Dreamwalker]
Attribute.

Unless the Mad Prince had learned how to shadow that Attribute.

It made sense, in hindsight. The vile madman had spent hundreds of years
in the Tomb of Ariel, and while many paths to advancing his power were
not available there, one path remained wide open —because it depended on
nothing and no one except Sunny himself.

It was to deepen his mastery of his own powers.

Sunny did not know how many years exactly the Mad Prince — the last
version of the Mad Prince, to be precise — had spent on the Great River.
But if his mastery of weaving had grown sufficient to create the mind-
boggling Estuary Key, then it must have been a long, long time.

So, he could have mastered more steps of Shadow Dance, as well.

Ananke must have called him a Sword Saint for a reason.

'Crazy bastard.'

While Sunny did not really want to follow in the footsteps of his past
demented self, the Mad Prince was proof of what the future held.

Thinking about him made Sunny feel hopeful about the potential of Shadow
Dance, but also reminded him to be careful.

'Slow and steady.'

Taking a deep breath, he remained motionless for a few moments, and then
summoned Saint, Fiend, and Serpent.

In the next several hours, Sunny conducted a lot of different experiments.

He told himself not to hurry, but his excitement and drive were too
powerful. In the end, he spent more essence than he had planned to, and
brought himself to greater mental exhaustion than what was wise.
His eyes were still full of excitement, though, despite the fact that these
early results were incremental at best.

The first thing Sunny confirmed was that augmenting his Shadows was
indeed an excellent method to improve the intricacy of his Shadow
Manifestation. The stonelike flesh of Saint, the steel body of Fiend, and the
countless shapes Serpent could assume were like a practical guide for
making the shadows he manifested more sophisticated.

Of course, it was not an instantaneous success, but rather gradual progress.

Sunny would have to practice much more to elevate Shadow Manifestation
to an entirely new level — in fact, the sheer amount of practice he would
have to undertake was a little daunting. But that was irrelevant. The only
important fact was that he had discovered a reliable and effective method of
improvement.

With that, the hardest part was already behind him... the hardest part of this
one relatively minor challenge, that was.

What came next was actually implementing this new skill to create a more
faithful versions of Shadow Shells. For now, Sunny concentrated on two
new prototypes — one Shell emulating the Onyx Saint, and another one
emulating Fiend. The goal was not simply to copy their outward appearance
and body structure, but to bring everything about these Shells closer to the
originals.

So, for the Stone Saint Shell, Sunny tried to replicate the stonelike
properties of Saint's body. For the Scavenger Shell, Sunny tried to make the
manifested shadows comprising it as similar to blessed steel as possible.

It was an entirely new experience for him. He had freely manipulated the
properties of his manifested shadows before, making them as hard as
tempered steel or as soft as feather down, but he had never tried to emulate
a material flawlessly. Augmenting the Shadows with an actively controlled
incarnation was certainly of great help, but still, the process was immensely
difficult and elusive.
Nevertheless, Sunny was making good progress. He was especially attuned
to the traits of Saint's stonelike body — most likely because he was
somewhat familiar with them due to his own Onyx Shell. After a while,
Sunny was able to make something that might not have been exactly like
what he wanted to achieve, but at least resembled it closely.

It was a good result for the first day of experimentation.

Trying to replicate Fiend's steel carapace was somewhat harder, but Sunny
had a lot of experience in emulating metals, as well. After all, one of the
most persistent uses of Shadow Manifestation in his arsenal was the
creation of weapons for him to wield — so, he possessed relevant
experience in that field too, just on a more shallow level.

Considering that Fiend had inherited some of his most fundamental traits by
munching on Sunny's own flesh all the way back in Antarctica, there were
similarities between his towering four-armed body and the Shadowspawn
Shell. So, Sunny experimented both with replicating the gluttonous
Shadow's form and with modifying his very first Shell to resemble it in a
few ways.

In the process, he also spent several minutes standing motionlessly, basking

in the feeling of sharing a Supreme creature's ferocious power.

Sunny had a little hope that augmenting a Supreme Devil would instantly
reveal the secrets of Supremacy to him, but sadly, that was not the case.
Although it was indeed a new and startling experience, Fiend was not a
Sovereign.

Creatures like him were different from humans, and followed a different
path... and even though Fiend did possess a nascent will capable of
influencing the world, he was too young and inexperienced to truly be in
command of it. In fact, Sunny felt that his own will was infinitely more
robust and domineering than that of his Shadow, even if it lost in terms of
potency.

There was also something about the very fact of being a Shadow that made
Fiend different from the Great Nightmare Creatures Sunny had faced before
— something that he could not quite explain, but nevertheless felt like a
limitation.

Sunny did not dwell on that vague feeling for long, adding it to the pile of
unanswered and barely formed questions he would hopefully get to explore
later. Instead, he returned to his current experiments.

Next in line... was Serpent.

Sunny turned to the serpentine Shadow and smiled widely, his eyes
gleaming so dangerously that it hissed in alarm.

A few hours later, however, Sunny furiously rubbed his temples and let out
a frustrated sigh.

"Damn it. Damn!"

1948 Familiar Barrier

Serpent was indeed of immeasurable value to Sunny in his endeavor to

master the next step of Shadow Dance. Given its ability to assume the form
of any shadow resting in Sunny's soul —those equal or inferior to Serpent
in Class and Rank, at least — the Legacy Shadow could be used to gain
access to a vast repository of shapes for its master to study in profound
detail.

As long as Sunny was using an incarnation to augment Serpent, he could

experience complete unity with countless beings, from Dormant Beasts to
Corrupted Terrors.

In fact... now that Sunny considered it, wasn't Serpent's [Formless] Ability
more or less identical to what he was trying to accomplish? What he wanted
to achieve was to learn how to mimic not only the outward shape of a
being, but also their Attributes and mystical powers. And that was what
Serpent had been able to do all along.

The final goal had been in front of Sunny all that time.

The problem, however...

Was that the same obstacle that had prevented him from slowly learning the
essence of Serpent's forms with the help of Shadow Dance in the past was
preventing him from truly delving into the state of unity with these beings
now — the threat of losing himself in the formlessness, forgetting who he
was and what separated him from the beings he shadowed.

If anything, the risk was even more dire now, because he was not simply
peering into the essence of the alien beings. Instead, he was fusing with
them entirely, becoming one with their bestial forms.

Sunny had managed to maintain a strong hold of his sense of self while
experiencing the state of unity with Saint and Fiend — perhaps because
they had been born of his Aspect and dwelled within his soul, to begin with.
Augmenting Serpent was not a problem, either — it was just when Serpent
used [Formless] that he was suddenly overwhelmed by the feeling of
otherness.

Sunny persisted for quite some time, then uttered a few curses and called
his incarnation back. He stared at Serpent for a while with a grim
expression, then clicked his tongue and looked away.

'I am still cripplied...'

Being banished from the Nightmare Spell and losing his True Name was
still making life hard for him, even after all these years. Sunny thought that
he had finally managed to adapt to his fateless existence well enough, but
now that an alluring opportunity was right in front of him, his deficiency
was showing its ugly head once again.

He remained motionless for a while, then let out another resentful sigh.

'Whatever. I'll find a way to break through this barrier eventually... there are
plenty of other things for me to explore right now, anyway.'

In fact, with everything else he had to do, diving into the endless well of
knowledge contained within the [Formless] Ability of his serpentine
Shadow might have been too much for him at the moment ... even with
seven bodies, Sunny was in no position to explore it thoroughly just yet.

He continued to experiment with building the Stone Saint Shell and the
Scavenger Shell for a while, eventually losing track of time. Sunny even
chose to augment the Marvelous Mimic, becoming a transdimensional
house for a short while...

That was quite a bizarre experience, to say the least.

If Nightmare had not been busy lulling a Cursed One to sleep, Sunny would
have summoned him here, as well.

...Eventually, something thundered in the basement, and the entire Brilliant

Emporium shook a little.
Aiko, who had been sleeping on an opulent wooden chair, flinched and
floated into the air. Wiping drool off her face, she looked around in a daze.

"What, no way! I wasn't sitting in your precious chair!"

Noticing that there was no one around, she calmed down a little... only to
notice that the door to the basement was open, revealing a dark entrance.

An insidious voice resounded from the darkness, making her skin crawl.

"Hey, Aiko... can you come down for a moment?"

The petite woman hesitated a bit, suddenly uneasy.

"Uh, boss.... actually, I have to leave... urgently. My great dog is terribly

sick and my family aunt has been run over by a PTV... wait, no, the other
way around..."

The darkness spoke again:

"It won't take long. Come down..."

Aiko let out a heavy sigh and glided into the basement with a resigned
expression.

Her boss was sitting on the floor with a mad look on his face and a
frightening glint on his eyes.

She landed softly on the floor and scratched the back of her head.

"Hey there, boss. I must warn you — If you finally lost it and decided that
you want to eat me or some such... I'll be expecting a huge bonus come
payday!"

Sunny stared at Aiko with a dumbfounded expression.

"...Who wants to eat you? Tsk, don't flatter yourself!"

He shook his head.

"Honestly, sometimes, I have no idea what is happening in that head of
yours... you are such a weirdo. Anyway, don't move. I'll be quick."

Aiko just stared at him in disbelief, as if she had never expected to hear
such an accusation coming from him.

Sunny, meanwhile, allowed his incarnation to separate itself from Fiend.

Then, he controlled it to glide across the floor... and wrap itself around
Aiko.

The petite girl let out a yelp.

"Ah! What the hell?!"

She subconsciously floated up, this time shooting almost all the way to the
ceiling.

Sunny let out a whistle.

"So... this works, too."

Aiko regained her composure, landed, and looked at her small hands.

After making them into small fists a few times, she blinked.

"What the hell, why am I suddenly so strong?"

Sunny took a deep breath.

His Aspect could be used to augment himself, his Memories, his Echoes,
and his Shadows. He could also augment inanimate objects, to a degree. But
he had never been able to augment other living beings — with the sole
exception of Nephis, whom he had been connected to by Shadow Bond
before.

Shadow Bond was no more, and although Sunny did not have a master now,
he did have a connection to two other people. They were Rain and Aiko,
both bearing the Mark of Shadows.
So, Sunny had decided to see if he could augment his followers, as well.

Amazingly, it worked.

Which was a great thing, because keeping Rain alive in the middle of
Godgrave was getting harder and harder, and would get harder still once the
two armies clashed in earnest. She did not even have an Aspect, so Sunny
was quite happy to find a way to boost her strength.

Looking at Aiko — and staring at himself through her eyes — Sunny

grinned.

"Don't worry. That's just a little benefit of being a member of the Shadow
Clan. Basically, I used one of my incarnations to fuse with you, thus
doubling your strength. No need to stare at me with admiration..."

The petite girl was indeed staring at him. However, the emotion in her eyes
was very far from admiration.

"F—fuse with me? Who... bastard, you have some nerve, going around
fusing with unsuspecting women without permission! Thanks, but no
thanks, I did not assent to fusing of any kind! Defuse me right this second!"

Sunny blinked a couple of times, then recalled his incarnation and coughed
awkwardly.

'Right...'

In hindsight, he could have just sent his shadow to augment Aiko without
controlling it directly. He just forgot about it in all the excitement.

'Well. That's embarrassing.'

Sunny cleared his throat.

"Whatever. Anyway, you can go... I'll think about giving you a bonus. A
small bonus, mind you!"

Aiko opened her mouth, wanting to retort, but he added sternly:

"And, by the way... were you sitting in my chair?"

The petite girl turned around and hurried upstairs.

"I'll be going, boss! My great uncle and my family cat... I mean, my auntie
and my dog... anyway, see you later!"

Sunny scoffed and looked at his Shadows.

After a while, he dismissed them, deciding that it was time to switch gears.

'Next, the Memories.'

It was time to delve into the second avenue he wanted to explore.

The first one had to do with augmenting Shadows to advance his mastery of
Shadow Dance, while the second one... the second one was inspired by the
experience of fusing with Serpent in the Soul Weapon form, and had to do
with Memories.

Sunny hoped to advance his mastery of weaving by augmenting them.

1949 Sonorous Silver Sunless

Sunny had quite high expectations for the next stage of his experiments. He
had been making a living by selling Memories, after all, and was obligated
to forge a stellar sword for Nephis.

There were many Saints in the world, and even a couple other people who
possessed Divine Aspects. However, he was the only weaver left in
existence. There were some who could enchant weapons and craft
Memories, but their ability was no more than a pale imitation of his own.

Therefore, what Sunny was going to do now thrilled him even more than
the possible advancement of Shadow Dance. It was just that he was a bit
tired, so his excitement was calm and focused.

He was going to fuse with his Memories, which would hopefully allow him
to learn more about their weaves.

'Lets see...'

He summoned the runes to study his soul arsenal.

Memories: [Silver Bell], [Extraordinary Rock], [Endless Spring], [Weaver's

Mask], [Shadow Lantern], [Shadow Chair], [Overpriced Saddle], [Weaver's
Needle], [Nebulous Mantle], [Handy Bracelet], [Quintessence Pearl],
[Definitely Not Me].

He possessed far fewer Memories now, after being banished from the
Nightmare Spell. Still, it was enough for a good start.

The Memories he did possess could be divided into three categories: the
ones he had created himself, the ones he had altered... and the two Divine
Memories he had received by chance.

Sunny suspected that he would be able to learn the least from the first
category, and the most from the last... if he even had the capacity to fathom
the infinite sophistication of Weaver's Mask and Shadow Lantern, which
was unlikely.
In any case, it made sense. He knew everything there was to know about the
weave of those Memories he had personally created, after all. [Shadow
Chair], Overpriced Saddle], and [Weaver's Needle] could be barely called
Memories — they were simply objects he had outfitted with the
rudimentary enchantments every Memory possessed.

[Handy Bracelet], [Quintessence Pearl], and [Definitely Not Me] were far
more complex, each created after he already became a Transcendent.
Studying them would be of more use... but probably not as much as
studying the Memories initially forged by the Spell.

They were [Silver Bell], [Extraordinary Rock], and [Endless Spring]. Each
had accompanied him for a long time.

Then, there was the [Nebulous Mantle], which had a somewhat special
origin. Neither Sunny nor the Nightmare Spell had created it — instead, it
had been woven by the sorcerers who worshiped Weaver, passed down to
Ananke, and eventually ended up being turned into a Memory by Sunny.

And finally, there were Shadow Lantern and Weaver's Mask. Sunny actually
did not know how Shadow Lantern had come to be — was it a true relic of
Shadow God, or simply a replica of one? He had received it as a Legacy
Relic, and since Aspect Legacies seemed to come from the Spell, it would
be reasonable to assume that the Spell had created it.

However, another Legacy Relic Sunny had received was the Fragment of
Shadow Realm, and even the Spell did not seem to know how to deal with
it — to the point that it did not know how to describe the Fragment with
runes, and where to place them.

Sunny knew the origin of Weaver's Mask, though. It was indeed a mere
replica of the mask the Demon of Fate had personally worn — one of the
two granted to the High Priests of the Nightmare Spell in the distant past.

However...

It had been created by Weaver's own hand. So, it was indeed a true relic left
behind by the nebulous daemon, just like the Nightmare Spell itself.
Sunny stared at the runes describing Weaver's Mask for a few moments...
then shifted his gaze and glanced at the [Overpriced Saddle].

A sad sigh escaped from his lips.

Chasing away the sudden feeling of crippling inferiority, Sunny raised a

hand and summoned the Silver Bell.

A beautiful bell wove itself from sparks of light, its familiar weight making
him feel a hint of bittersweet nostalgia.

Sunny closed his eyes for a moment.

[A small memento of a long-lost home, which once brought its owner

comfort and joy...]

He rang the bell quietly and listened to its sonorous ringing, then smiled, a
hint of sadness finding its way into his eyes.

When the melodious sound of the bell dissolved into silence, Sunny took a
deep breath and controlled his incarnation to glide onto the small Memory.

Immediately, his consciousness was split into two states of being.

Sunny was the person who sat on the floor, holding the Silver Bell in his
hand.

But he was also the bell being held by the person.

Overwhelmed by the strangeness of this alien feeling, Sunny shuddered.

Because the hand holding him trembled, Sunny swayed and produced a
beautiful ringing sound.

'Ah... it's too strange...'

Becoming one with the Silver Bell was even more odd than fusing with the
Soul Weapon form of Serpent or with the Marvelous Mimic masquerading
as a quaint cottage... much more odd by far. His Shadow were living beings
assuming the shapes of inanimate objects, at least. The Silver Bell... was
simply the Silver Bell.

It was a thing cast of silver, with no awareness of the world, of itself, or of

anything at all — it had no senses, no feelings, no fears, no thoughts, no
desires. It just... was.

Sunny's eyes widened, and his expression froze. He remained motionless

for a while, his mind torn between two incongruous and irreconcilable
states. Somewhere far away, the Lord of Shadows stumbled midmotion, and
a hidden shadow shuddered in the darkness of Rain's tent.

'...Is this what it feels like to be truly insane?'

Who else would be in the state of mind to consider themselves a little bell,
if not for a complete lunatic?

Slowly, laboriously, he called upon his many experiences acting as a

shadow of alien beings and managed to get a grip on his incapacitated
mind. Sunny built a wall around the part of his mind that had become one
with the Silver Bell, separating it from himself, and finally exhaled with
relief.

"D—damn it... wow."

Sunny had known that he would experience something exceedingly bizarre

by personally augmenting a Memory, but nothing could have prepared him
for the strangeness of this foreign state of being.

Still, it was illuminating.

Even though the Silver Bell had no senses, no concept of self, and no way
to perceive anything, it still had... something.

A subtle awareness of movement, vibration, and sound.

And underneath it all, something far more conclusive.

The Silver Bell might have been inanimate and simple on the material
plane, but beyond that, it was a marvel of radiant light and flowing energy
that existed in the vast emptiness of a lightless abyss. After all, it was
woven out of soul essence and contained intricate enchantments designed
by the Nightmare Spell itself.

Even the [Sonorous] enchantment added to it had not been invented by

Sunny, but simply copied from another Memory into the weave of the
Silver Bell.

Within it, soul essence flowed according to an elegant, complex, and

infinitely ingenious pattern, its movement and pathways dictated by the
intricate tapestry of ethereal strings embedded into the nature of the Silver
Bell beyond the material plane.

That was its spellweave and the resulting mechanism of its enchantments,
shining brightly in the darkness.

And, therefore...

That was Sunny's spellweave and the mechanism of his enchantments.

He inhaled slowly, staring into the distance.

Sunny had seen plenty of weaves before.

But...

He had never experienced being a weave before. He had never felt every
detail and nuance of his sorcery so deeply, vividly, and in such a profound
way.

His eyes, which were opened wide, suddenly glistened with sharp light.

And deep within them, golden threads shone for a moment, then
disappeared into lightless depths.
1950 High Sorcerer

Some time later, Sunny let out a shaky breath and sprawled on the floor. His
mind felt like it was on fire, and there were a myriad of thoughts swarming
in his head.

He had been right!

Using an incarnation to augment a Memory was, indeed, a game changer.

The act of fusing with a Memory gave him an entirely new level of
understanding of how its enchantments functioned, and how its spellweave
caused those enchantments to exist.

It was one thing to see the tapestry of ethereal strings, but experiencing it as
a part of himself was completely different.

Before, Sunny could study a weave and make logical conclusions about
how its elements functioned, as well as what role each string played in the
tapestry. By observing the structure and guiding principles of countless
weaves and comparing them to each other, he could deduce the purpose of
some of the patterns and weave Memories by recreating them. That was
how his career as a sorcerer had started... and he had made great strides
since then.

Sunny had steadily increased the repertoire of patterns he could weave.

Eventually, he was even able to understand the principles behind these
structure of these patterns, which gave him the ability to change and modify
them. Finally, he reached a point where he could weave new patterns, and
thus create somewhat original enchantments, all by himself.

However, Sunny had always remained blind to the true essence of weaving.
He had discerned how many weaves worked, but he never understood why.
In other words, he had only observed the guiding principles of weaving
without ever knowing the underlying reasons for why they were that way.

His experience as a sorcerer had been purely empirical, lacking the

theoretical understanding of the inner workings and causality of the sorcery
he practiced. He was an alchemist at best, not a chemist.

Now... all of it could change.

Of course, Sunny had not fathomed the elaborate underlying laws of

weaving yet. But he had obtained a tool to observe them now — to
personify them now — which meant that, given time, he would be able to
comprehend and learn them.

When he did...

A soft chuckle escaped Sunny's lips.

If he did manage to grasp the "why" of weaving instead of only just "how",
then he would not need to rely on imitation to create enchantments. He
would not need a repertoire of weaves and patterns anymore — because he
would be able to solve any problem by simply knowing the rules of solving
it.

Of course, that would not make Sunny an omnipotent sorcerer in an instant.

After all, having the tools necessary to solve a problem was not the same as
mastering them. Otherwise, people would have been able to resolve...
well... something terribly complicated in mathematics immediately after
formulating the rules of arithmetic.

To his shame, Sunny did not know enough about mathematics to come up
with an example.

'Why am I even thinking about that?'

Right... he was thinking about it because he had decided to rest a little after
his brain almost melted as a result of experiencing the fusion with Silver
Bell.

Still.

He had rested enough, already. Hadn't he?

Sitting up, Sunny shook his head energetically... and summoned the
Extraordinary Rock.

"Let's see what mysteries you're hiding!"

Sunny did not say that. The Extraordinary Rock said that.

But in the next moment, Sunny had become the Extraordinary Rock.

Immediately, he shuddered.

Somewhere far away, the Lord of Shadows slammed into a pillar while
walking out of the Nameless Temple. Elsewhere, a hidden shadow let out a
frustrated sigh, making Rain stir a little in her sleep.

'Let's continue!'

***

Sometime later, Aiko returned to the basement, carrying a tray of food. Her
boss was sprawled on the floor in a disheveled state, staring at the ceiling
with glassy eyes.

She cautiously nudged him with the edge of her shoe.

"Hey, boss. Uh... you're alive?"

Sunny turned his head and looked at her with a frown.

"Which me are you asking? Also, define the meaning of alive. Also... define
the meaning of you."

He blinked a couple of times, then shook his head.

"Never mind. Yes, I'm alive. But what are you doing here?"

Aiko let out a sigh and put the tray on the floor near him.

"Here, have some food. I thought you'd be hungry."

Sunny tilted his head a little.

"Huh? Why would I be hungry?"

The petite girl shrugged.

"I mean... you've been locked in the basement for three days without ever
stepping out..."

He stared at her for a few moments, then looked down at the food.

It did smell very appetizing...

"It's been three days already? Wow. That's crazy."

Pulling the tray closer, Sunny grabbed the nearest plate and shoved a
spoonful of fragrant soup into his mouth.

"Has Nephis returned to the camp, by any chance?"

Aiko watched him eat with a dubious expression, then shook her head.

"Not yet. She's still en route... inspecting the extermination outposts or

some such, from what I hear. She'll probably be here in a couple more
days."

Sunny nodded.

"Alright. Let me know when that happens... I'll just stay here in the
basement until then."

Then, thinking about it, he suddenly pierced her with an intense gaze.

"Wait. How's our war profiteering business coming along?"

The petite girl flinched.

"What?! What war profiteering? There's no war profiteering whatsoever

happening here! Just a... a completely benign, officially sanctioned Memory
redistribution program, for the glory and benefit of the great Sword Army..."

Sunny waved a hand.

"Yes, yes. Whatever. You should already have at least a small stockpile of
Memories in inventory, right? Waiting to be... redistributed. Lend them to
me for a few days. Oh, also! Tell the Fire Keepers that since I have free
time, I can modify some Memories for them, free of charge. There should
be at least a few of them still in the camp, right?"

Aiko blinked.

"I refuse."

Sunny froze for a moment.

"What? Why?"

She crossed her arms and scowled sternly.

"Free of charge? What's that? Our services are both exclusive and top-
notch, so why should we provide them for free? Dream on!"

Sunny stared at the petite girl for a few moments, then waved a hand.

"Fine, whatever. Just get me some Memories — the more, the better!"

Grinning in satisfaction, Aiko told Sunny to enjoy his meal and flew out of
the basement... literally.

He smiled.

"Good..."

Being banished from the Spell, he couldn't directly transfer or receive

Memories. Each had to be modified slightly before he could give them
away or claim ownership — if the other party was willing, of course.
So, it would actually take some effort on Sunny's part to get the Memories
from Aiko.

It was worth it, however, because if he did...

He would be able to augment and study them freely, instantly gaining more
fuel for his current research. Aiko's uncompromising avarice aside, Sunny
should have been paying the Fire Keepers for free access to their soul
arsenals, instead...

But, no matter.

He hungrily attacked the tray of food, grinning from ear to ear.

'I've made good progress, already.'

In a day or two more, he would probably be ready to put his new

knowledge into practice and test the first results of his recent breakthrough.

Therefore, it would be time to weave some Memories...

1951 The Nuances of Proper Grammar

It was going to take Aiko some time to prepare the new Memories for
Sunny to peruse. In the meantime, he hesitated for a while, looking at the
shimmering runes with a bit of trepidation.

By now, he already explored those of his Memories that he had either

personally crafted or altered. Two more remained, though...

Weaver's Mask and Shadow Lantern. Sunny was a little afraid of them.

He had already seen their weave, after all — and it was unlike anything he
had ever witnessed. Even the most powerful Memories he had possessed in
the past, Estuary Key and the Crown of Twilight, seemed like toys meant
for an infant when compared to the unfathomable complexity of the weave
hiding within the Divine Memories.

Sunny had almost killed himself a couple of times by witnessing more than
mortals were meant to perceive — like the endless tapestry of fate that
Weaver's Mask could show him.

He had not been harmed by merely looking at the weave of Divine

Memories, sure. But there was a vast difference between taking a look at
them and becoming one with them — fusing with the Silver Bell was
already a shock, so Sunny was hesitant to do the same with either Weaver's
Mask or the Shadow Lantern.

Still, the temptation was too strong.

Finally gathering his courage, Sunny sighed and summoned the Shadow
Lantern. Soon, a palm-sized lantern appeared in his hand. It was made from
a black material that felt like stone, but wasn't stone, engraved with intricate
patterns that resembled the scales of a serpent. A short chain was attached to
a metal ring at its top, similarly black.

The lantern's gate was carved from glossy black morion... needless to say,
there was no light shining through it. Instead, the darkness around Sunny
suddenly seemed to grow deeper, colder, and more impenetrable.

Shadow Lantern was beautiful, but unassuming —not at all like a relic left
behind by a god. Then again, maybe it was exactly the kind of thing that the
elusive Shadow God would leave behind.

It also only had a single enchantment... which was both quite simple and
dealing with such absolute concepts and endlessness and infinity.

Enchantment: [Gates of Shadow].

Enchantment Description: [This lantern devours light and can contain, and
then release, an infinite amount of shadows.]

That enchantment had served Sunny well in the past. In fact, it was one of
the most useful and irreplaceable tools in his arsenal.

He remained motionless for a while, studying the dark Memory, then sighed
again and controlled his gloomy incarnation to wrap itself around the
serpentine stone lantern.

In the next moment...

Sunny let out a horrified yelp and tossed the lantern away. Of course, that
did not do anything, so he belatedly remembered to separate himself from
the Divine Memory by allowing his trembling shadow to dash away.

The Shadow Lantern fell on the floor and rolled a few times, its chain
ringing in the silence.

"Ah... goddammit..."

Sunny found himself laying on the floor, having hit it hard with his
forehead. Of course, his head was quite sturdy, so he wasn't even bruised...
the Marvelous Mimic, however, seemed to have received some damage.
The floorboard was cracked, slowly repairing itself.

A brick cottage could not really express emotions, but somehow, Sunny felt
that he was surrounded by an aura of resentment.
He let out a shaky breath.

'Yeah... I'm not doing that again any time soon.'

Just as he had expected, fusing with a Divine Memory was not something a
mere mortal like him was meant to do. His mind was too small, fleeting,
and fragile to contain the vastness of the Shadow Lantern's weave, the
weight of its enchantment, and the humbling scale of its unseen expanse.
The Divine Memory might have appeared no larger than a palm on the
material plane, but truly... its essence was far too immense to fathom.

Sunny slowly sat up and let out a low groan.

'At least I didn't start with Weaver's Mask...'

Shadow Lantern was a Divine Memory of the First Tier, while Weaver's
Mask... it was a Divine Memory of the Seventh Tier. It had more than one
enchantment, as well, woven by Weaver's own hand.

Sunny was suddenly thankful that he was a little scared of his mask, having
been traumatized by its [Where is my eye?] enchantment a long time ago.
He had used it on several occasions — the last time already as a Saint, to
see if he was really free of the Strings of Fate and disconnected from its
tapestry. Remembering those times consistently made him shudder.

Of course, fusing with Weaver's Mask would be far more merciful than
witnessing fate without the privilege of looking away. His mind would not
melt, shatter, and collapse under the pressure... it was just that becoming
one with something so much greater than himself posed a high risk of his
sense of self being substituted by that thing entirely.

Sunny had no plans of spending the rest of his life believing sincerely that
he was in fact not a person, but a wooden mask instead.

He had come really close to being irrevocably convinced that he was an

intricate stone lantern, already.
Shaking his head, Sunny closed his eyes for a moment, then threw a dark
look at the Shadow Lantern.

'That was close'.

The experience of fusion with the Divine Memory had indeed been
perilous...

That said, it had not been entirely useless.

Slowly, Sunny's expression changed.

Remembering that short moment of being one with the Shadow Lantern, he
scrutinized his feelings intently.

He had not really managed to fathom the nuances of the spellweave of the
Divine Memory, but he did become briefly aware of its true essence. That
impression, although momentary, imparted a much deeper understanding of
the Shadow Lantern to him.

And of its single enchantment.

Suddenly, Sunny's eyes widened, and he stared at the glossy morion gate of
the stone lantern in utter disbelief.

'No... it can't be.'

And yet, it could.

He was paralyzed by shock.

'The Gates of Shadow!'

Long ago, soon after receiving the Shadow Lantern, Sunny had wondered
how it was able to contain a literal infinity of shadows. Where did the
shadows he sent into the Lantern really go? He had even sent one of his
own shadows inside, learning very little as a result.
He had also tried to store the Fragment of the Shadow Realm in the small
stone lantern, attempting to test if its capacity was really infinite. The
Fragment could indeed be sent into the Shadow Lantern — sadly, no matter
how hard Sunny tried, it could not be retrieved.

There was no reason Sunny knew why the Shadow Realm's Fragment
would not return from inside the Lantern, like all other shadows would, but
that was what he had discovered on Alethea's Island. The discovery had
crushed his hope of being able to move his piece of a Divine Domain freely
wherever he wished.

But now... now, Sunny had a strong suspicion about what the reason was.

It was because the name of the single enchantment of the Shadow Lantern
was much more literal than he had thought.

Gates of Shadow... not of the Shadows, but of Shadow.

'Made pale and feeble by the radiance of day, Shadow laughed and rose
from the ground...'

That was what the Nightmare Spell called Shadow God in the description of
the Lantern.

So, the Gates of Shadow were really the Gates of Shadow God.

Now...

Where would the Gates of Shadow God lead?

Sunny stared at the small stone lantern and its tiny morion door with an
expression of horror.

There was only one logical answer.

They would lead to Shadow God's Realm.

1952 Choice Paralysis

'It just doesn't end today!'

Sunny stared at the Shadow Lantern with a very strange expression.

Today, he had discovered the key to mastering the next step of Shadow
Dance. Later, he had found a way to elevate his sorcery to new heights.

And now, he had discovered that the door to Shadow Realm had been in his
pocket the entire time!

Well, alright... technically, these events had happened in the span of several
days, as Aiko so politely reminded him. But still.

How was his poor heart supposed to handle this barrage of stunning
revelations?

'Who cares about my heart? I have six spare ones anyway...'

Standing up, Sunny approached the Shadow Lantern and carefully picked it
up. He studied it silently, a deep frown slowly appearing on his face.

He was pretty sure that his conjecture was correct. In that short moment
when Sunny fused with the Divine Memory, the two of them had been one
and the same. As a result, he had caught a brief glimpse of what the Shadow
Lantern truly was, and what was hidden beneath its surface.

He had not fathomed it entirely, of course, but he had learned enough to

understand the nature of the [Gates of Shadow] enchantment.

Sunny was pretty sure that the gate of the Shadow Lantern led directly to
the Shadow Realm.

Which would explain a few things.

For example, why an infinite amount of shadows could enter the Shadow
Lantern and then return. Or why the Fragment of the Shadow Realm could
be stored inside, but not retrieved.

That Fragment had been torn from the Shadow Realm when some dreadful
being escaped it, after all. So, by returning the Fragment to where it
belonged, Sunny was mending a rift in the Shadow Realm.

And he wouldn't very well be able to pull the entire Divine Domain out of
the Lantern, would he?

Just thinking about these things made Sunny feel incredulous.

'Shadow Realm...'

There had been six Divine Realms in existence. After the seventh Divine
Realm — the Dream Realm — was born, it slowly consumed the mortal
realms, assimilating them into itself. The same fate befell five of the six
Divine Realms, as well... at least according to Wind Flower.

Sunny strongly suspected that the Stormsea was what remained of the
Divine Realm of Storm God. Godgrave had most likely been the Divine
Realm of Sun God once. Although he had no proof, he believed that the
Burned Forest had been the Divine Realm of Heart God. The Divine Realm
of Beast God was somewhere in the Song Domain... the Moonriver Plain
might have been one of its parts in the past.

And then there was his own world, Earth, which seemed to be the former
Divine Realm of War God, the patron deity of humanity.

Five of the Divine Realms were accounted for, but Shadow Realm had
always remained a mystery. Where was it? Had it also been devoured by the
Dream Realm? If so, in what region of this nightmarish world were the
remains of the Shadow God's Realm located?

Sunny had never seen or heard about any place that resembled the Realm of
Shadow. So, he had always been curious where it went.

And now... he could go and find out.

Thinking about it, Sunny shuddered, suddenly overwhelmed by an
inexplicable sense of terror.

'Can I? Should I?'

It was easy to answer the first question — yes, he most definitely could.

His shadow had been able to enter the Shadow Lantern all the way back
when he first received it. Now that Sunny had Shadow Incarnation and
could take direct control of his shadows, he could do it himself.

In fact, he probably could have done it even before Transcending, by using

Shadow Step to assume the form of an incorporeal shadow. It was just that
Sunny had not been keen on trying, considering that he had known nothing
about what was inside the Shadow Lantern, and that there would be no one
left behind to summon him back if he did enter it.

Now, however...

One of his avatars could hold the Lantern while another ventured inside. He
could maintain at least two avatars indefinitely, as well. And on top of that,
the passive use of Shadow Step did not consume his essence anymore,
either.

So, the possibility was there.

But Sunny was not sure that he should make use of it.

There was one big reason why he wanted to go to Shadow Realm, and one
enormous reason why he was wary of it.

The latter did not really need to be explained. He just needed to look around
to know why blindly venturing into a fallen Divine Realm was a bad idea.
Godgrave, Stormsea, and Burned Forest — all three places were the
definition of being deadly, representing some of the most nightmarish
corners of this already harrowing world.

And although Sunny had no reason to believe so, he felt that the Shadow
Realm might just turn out to be the most dreadful of the five fallen Divine
Realms, by far.

That said, there was also a very important reason why he felt compelled to
explore it, at least a little. It was similarly simple.

It was his absent Titan Core.

Sunny's Aspect was especially cruel as far as saturating one's soul went...
which was, perhaps, quite fitting for an Aspect originating from the God of
Death. It had always been harder for him to collect fragments than it was
for most Awakened, and that difficulty seemed even more dire now that he
was a Saint.

Especially because there were no Shadow Creatures around for him to slay
— corrupted or not.

But wouldn't it be reasonable to assume that there would be plenty of them

inside the ruins of Shadow Realm?

Sunny thought that it would be very reasonable to assume that.

So, entering the Shadow Realm was the most certain way to become a titan
he could think of.

If Sunny did become a Transcendent Titan...

Not only would he receive another core, another shadow, and another
avatar...

But Serpent would also become one. Which would allow it to assume the
shape of the titans Sunny had slain.

The Fallen Titan Goliath, the Winter Beast... having the ability to summon
either one would add another trump card to Sunny's arsenal. And he was in
desperate need of those, considering that the chance of defeating the
Sovereigns in battle still seemed very slim.

A long sigh escaped from Sunny's lips.

"Damnation..."

He had so much to do, already!

He had been planning to start crafting Memories just now. There was also
the whole damn war, the necessity to learn more about the Sovereigns
between facing them in battle... and Nephis was finally coming back to
camp, as well, which meant that he could finally see her again.

Now, the task of exploring a dead god's lightless realm has been added to
the pile of things he had to accomplish.

Sunny covered his face with a palm and groaned.

'What the hell?'

He had seven bodies now, so how come he was busier than ever before?!

Shaking his head, he took a deep breath and stared at the ceiling.

For now, the only question was... what was he going to do first?

Sneak into the Shadow Realm or make a breakthrough in weaving?

1953 One Small Step for Shadow

Sunny definitely knew what the smart decision would be.

The smart decision would be to concentrate on weaving for now, slowly

consider the potential perils of venturing into the Shadow Realm, and make
thorough preparations before entering the Lantern.

For example, he had to decide which of his incarnations would explore the
Shadow Realm. Would he send the Lord of Shadows and his three
companion shadows, to have as much power as realistically possible in the
current situation at his disposal there? Or would he send a single
incarnation as a scout, to reduce the damage to a minimum in case it was
destroyed by an overwhelming threat?

It would also be best to consider many things, do extensive research,

consolidate his recent breakthroughs, and make arrangements before
passing through the Gates of Shadow.

That said...

'Ah, to hell with it'.

The allure of an unexplored Divine Realm — the Realm of Shadows — was

too irresistible. Even though Sunny knew that it would be wiser to remain
patient, he could not imagine delving into the slow and meticulous process
of crafting Memories without satiating his curiosity and fascination first.

How was he supposed to concentrate on weaving intricate patterns of

ethereal strings when there was a portal to a literal Divine Realm resting
basically in his pocket? And not just to any Divine Realm, either, but one
that had belonged to the very god from whom Sunny's powers originated.

It would be way too hard.

Granted, he had no ambitions of going on a true expedition yet. Rather,

what Sunny wanted to do was to take a first look at the Shadow Realm and
explore it a briefly, simply to know what awaited him there, and from what
he would have to protect himself.

With that knowledge, he would be able to prepare for the actual expedition
better. He might even want to craft a few specific Memories to help him
face the perils of the Shadow Realm, so it had to be done before he dove
into weaving.

It had to be done now.

Sunny turned around, walked to the middle of the basement, and

outstretched his hand. The

Shadow Lantern hung freely from his fingers. Following a mental

command, the little morion gate opened, revealing a dark entrance.

He remained motionless for a few moments, absorbed by solemn silence.

Then, he looked down, at his shadow.

"...Well, what are you waiting for? Chop-chop! Get inside."

The gloomy stared at him in shock, then pointed at itself with a finger, as if
asking...

"Who? Me?"

Sunny raised an eyebrow.

"Why, of course. I mean, who else? What, did you think that I'll banish my
original body to the Shadow Realm?"

He scoffed.

"Of course not. That's the Land of Death, you know!"

The gloomy shadow was dumbstruck for a few moments, then lowered its
hands... and slowly clenched its fists, staring at Sunny with a murderous
gaze.
Sunny ignored its antics and activated Shadow Incarnation, taking direct
control of his shadow.

'Here we go.'

He glided up his leg, onto his arm, and toward the open gate of the Shadow
Lantern.

'Shadow Realm...'

In that short moment before entering the darkness within, Sunny considered
what he knew about it.

Truly, it wasn't much, and most of what he did know had come from the
description of the Fragment.

[When Shadow made death, he has become death. Everything that Shadow
swallowed died, and everything that died was swallowed by Shadow. Death
was an absolute law, and thus, that which was everchanging was
everchanging no more. Time was an absolute law, and thus, that which was
everlasting was everlasting no more. Space was an absolute law, and thus,
that which was endless was endless no more. Wielding time, space, and
death, the gods defeated and bound their enemies.

However, there were those who defied even absolute laws. One of these
beings broke free of the Shadow Realm after being swallowed by it, and in
doing so, splintered several small fragments of it. This is one of the
fragments.]

It was strange, really. The Nightmare Spell seemed to make no distinction

between Shadow God, his Domain, his Realm, and death itself. It almost
sounded as if the Shadow Realm was located... within Shadow God.

Dying and being swallowed by the God of Death was used interchangeably.
Everything that he swallowed died, and everything that died was swallowed
by him, thus ending up in the Domain of Shadow... in the Shadow Realm.

So...
'Is Shadow Realm... Shadow God's soul sea?'

The idea did not seem that far-fetched, but it also was not entirely plausible
— mainly because Sunny did not know much about the gods, who were
unfathomable.

Had the gods even possessed souls of their own?

Had they possessed physical bodies? If so, how had they looked?

Everyone knew that the gods were dead, but where were their corpses?

Godgrave was called so because people assumed that the titanic skeleton
had once belonged to a god, but Sunny did not share that belief...

A moment before his incarnation entered the Lantern, Sunny suddenly

shivered.

If he assumed that Shadow Realm was indeed Shadow God's soul sea, or at
least a divine equivalent of one...

Then, didn't it sound disturbingly similar to his own lightless soul?

After all, the shadows of everything Sunny killed ended up in his soul sea.
In a sense, those he killed were swallowed by him, as well.

He remembered the description of the Shadow Realm, too.

'Everything you cherish, everything you nurture, everything that starts with
you will one day be mine, be welcomed by me, swallowed by me, and find
peace within me. This is the mercy of Shadow...'

The silent shadows contained within the tranquil darkness of Sunny's soul
were, indeed... quite peaceful.

His eyes widened a little, and a seed of an thought appeared in his mind.

But before it could blossom and sprout, his incarnation passed through the
Gates of Shadow...
And found himself somewhere else.

Sunny gasped.
1954 Realm of Shadows

Sunny found himself standing at the top of a tall mound, with a desolate
expanse of dark hills stretching in front of him in all directions. There was
no grass, no trees, no moss or flowers. No sign of life at all, just stillness
and silence.

It was a stark contrast to the dreadful reaches of Godgrave, where

everything was consumed by the sprawling vermilion jungle that teemed
with hungry, restless, abominable life.

The ground was covered in a soft layer of fine black dust, but felt more
solid than a sand dune would.

What made him gasp was not the desolate landscape, however, but
everything else he perceived.

...There was light.

He had expected the Shadow Realm to be a land of eternal darkness,

entirely lightless and covered by a veil of shadows. However, instead, its
dark expanse was illuminated by a beautiful silver radiance, as if resting
under a starlit sky... it was just that there were no stars.

Looking up, Sunny saw a black sky. At least he assumed that it was a sky
— there was no way to tell. There were no stars and no moon, just a
seemingly endless expanse of darkness.

However, there were clouds.

Far in the distance, a vast storm front was moving across the dark plain.
That was what Sunny wanted to call it, in any case — in truth, the clouds
weren't really clouds, and the storm wasn't really a storm.

The clouds weren't formed from water vapor, but from ethereal light
particles, instead. Shining with silver radiance, they moved and swirled, as
if carried by ghostly winds. The empyrean currents were like beautiful
rivers of starlight that illuminated the desolate land, making the immense,
ancient shadows populating it flow and dance.

It was a breathtaking sight.

But, more than that... even from a distance, Sunny could feel the terrifying
violence of the radiant storm. It was both daunting and chilling, making him
want to dive deeper into the embrace of shadows to hide himself.

It was a storm of light.

'No...'

Not light.

Looking closer, Sunny shivered slightly.

Those sparks of silver light... he recognized them for what they were.

It was soul essence.

The storm raging above the dark plain was a storm of essence.

He didn't quite know what to make of it.

At the same time as his eyes were enthralled by the sight of the beautiful,
terrible soul storm, Sunny's other senses were flooding his mind with
intense sensations, as well.

There was his shadow sense, of course.

As it flowed in all directions, Sunny felt... at home.

He was surrounded by nothing but shadows, all of them indescribably

ancient and unfathomably deep. Their dark depths were so vast that he
almost felt lost, and so immense that he almost felt cowed by their scale.
Their tranquil, slumbering indifference made him feel calm and at peace.

The shadows were his source element, after all.

Here in the Shadow Realm, Sunny felt more spirit essence than ever pour
into his soul, soothing and satiating it. It was to a degree that the rate at
which he replenished shadow essence had become swift enough for at least
one more avatar to be maintained indefinitely, without causing any loss.

'...That's good.'

Sunny strived to maintain a careful balance between expending and

replenishing his essence. Maintaining two avatars at all times — the Lord of
Shadows and Rain's companion — was what he could do without
constantly draining his reserves. So, knowing that he would be able to send
one additional incarnation out to explore the Shadow Realm without
crossing the line was welcome news.

'Now, then... should I take a look around?'

There did not seem to be immediate danger around him, but Sunny still
remained in the form of an incorporeal shadow for now. He could not see
any structures or sense any movement nearby, either.

But he felt uneasy, for some reason.

Actually, it was completely reasonable for him to feel ill at ease. The
Shadow Realm was supposed to be the land of death, after all. If everything
that died ended up here, then...

The shadows of Unholy Titans and horrors beyond description would be

here as well, wouldn't they? Sure, those harrowing creatures were supposed
to be already dead... but beings of higher Ranks were often above such
limitations.

Had Shadow God not blessed him from beyond the grave?

Come to think of it...

Would the shadows of the gods, and the seven daemons, be here as well?

Sunny shivered and carefully glided a few steps forward, nearing the crest
of the hill.
'Something... is wrong, I think.'

He was feeling rather strange.

There was no pain and no discomfort, but he definitely felt that something
about him was not right.

His unease grew stronger.

'What is it?'

Then, he froze.

If Sunny had eyes at the moment, they would have undoubtedly narrowed.

It was because he saw a tiny mote of silver light slowly rise above his
incorporeal form, dancing in the ghostly wind. Then, there was another, and
another...

Why was he emanating sparks of soul essence?

That did not make any sense. Not only because he was not supposed to
randomly leak essence, but also because Sunny had never possessed soul
essence, to begin with — he was rather unique, possessing shadow essence
instead.

Following an ominous premonition, Sunny summoned the runes and looked

tensely at the counter of his shadow fragments.

A moment later, he felt a hint of terror. His shadow fragments... were

dwindling.

The rate was not high, just one or two every moment, but it was
unmistakable.

His soul was being drained.

Not, not quite. It was not being drained — instead, it was slowly
disintegrating. It was bizarre and beyond reason, but he could not deny the
fact. He was not under a soul attack and was not receiving soul damage, he
did not even feel any pain, but his soul was slowly falling apart.

It was being broken down and turned into pure soul essence.

If not for the radiant motes of light, Sunny would not have even suspected
anything.

Feeling a sense of terror, he looked into the distance, where the immense
soul storm was raging above the dark plain.

A storm comprised of an incalculable number of essence sparks.

If Sunny had hair right now, it would have stood on end.

'D—damnation...'

What the hell was this place?

Following an instinct, Sunny assumed his human form and immediately

manifested the Onyx Mantle. A shadow was quite vulnerable, after all,
leaving the soul without the protection of a physical body.

Finally, the stream of essence sparks rising above him was cut off.

Sunny trembled and let out a relieved sigh.

'That was close...'

Before he could celebrate his salvation, however, his shadow sense caught a
subtle movement a short distance away.

...And then, a black arrow suddenly flashed from the darkness, easily
piercing his chest.
1955 Rude Welcome

Sunny was in the heart of the Shadow Realm — a place where he was
supposed to have an absolute advantage over his enemies. And yet, he had
not sensed the smallest of movements up until the very last moment.

It made sense, in hindsight.

Who else could exist in this dark and deadly wasteland other than creatures
similar to him?

He only sensed the black arrow when it was already too late to dodge it.
Sunny only managed to turn his torso a little, bracing for the impact. He had
a faint hope that the Onyx Mantle would protect his body — it was a
Transcendent armor, after all, its breastplate designed specifically in a way
to deflect blows instead of enduring them directly.

However, his hopes were futile.

The arrowhead pierced his armor easily. It pierced his skin and muscles, as
well, sliding between his ribs and biting his heart.

If not for that slight last-moment turn, his heart would have been entirely
destroyed. Now, it was merely damaged.

A split second later, the arrowhead exited from his back and scraped against
the inner surface of the Onyx Mantle. Having wasted its momentum, it
failed to break through the stonelike armor again.

Consumed by pain, Sunny was tossed back by the devastating force of the
impact. He flew a dozen meters back, fell into the black dust, and rolled
down the slope of the hill at terrible speed. The world spun, and he tasted
iron on his tongue.

'Ah...'

The shock of the impact was fierce and violent. Being skewered by the
arrow hurt like hell.
Worse yet, Sunny had no idea where the enemy was... and who the enemy
was. The initiative was entirely on the side of the unseen archer, and they
were at least powerful enough to effortlessly break an exceedingly durable
Transcendent armor.

Things did not look good for him.

Of course, there was plenty Sunny could do.

Here in the Realm of Shadows, he was unreasonably powerful... in fact, he

felt more powerful than ever before, as if the world itself was infusing him
with dire strength.

There was an ocean of shadows around him to manifest. There were his
Shadows, as well — Saint, Fiend, Serpent. He could call upon them to
protect him. There was Shadow Step, and his ability to move great distances
in the blink of an eye.

Even without the support of other incarnations and unable to augment

himself, Sunny could try to give the deadly enemy hiding in the darkness a
good battle.

However, he did not.

There was a much safer solution, after all.

...Standing in the basement of the Brilliant Emporium, Sunny looked at the

open gate of the Shadow Lantern and summoned his incarnation back.

A moment later, his avatar disappeared from the slope of the dark hill and
crashed on the floor of the Marvelous Mimic, letting out a muffled groan,
sliding a few meters, and colliding with an empty Memory display stand.

Sunny watched the stand with a pained expression.

Both because he was feeling the avatar's agony and because that damned
display had cost him quite a lot back in Bastion.
His first tentative foray into the Shadow Realm... seemed to be over, just
like that.

'Well. That's not the best homecoming I could have hoped for, I guess. Not
the worst though, either...'

Walking over to the avatar, who was sprawled on the floor, Sunny looked
down at himself with a dark expression.

He considered the few short moments he had spent in the Shadow Realm
carefully.

It was... not what he had expected it to be.

That dark land was nebulous and beautiful, but also somehow able to
destroy souls. If not for how durable his own soul was, it might have been
damaged far more severely... in fact, Sunny had a sinking feeling that
without Soul Weave, the damage might have been irreparable.

On top of that, he had gotten an arrow driven through his chest. His heart
had almost been pierced clean through.

In fact, the wound would have been fatal for most humans... even Saints.
His avatar was only alive because of Blood Weave, which helped him
ignore the damage dealt to his heart and keep the blood running through his
veins.

For now.

The avatar stared back at him from below, his face pale and his lips red with
blood.

Sunny sighed.

"What are you waiting for, fool? Hurry up and turn back into a shadow."

That would not heal his wound, but it would at least prevent the wound
from killing his body.
The avatar gritted his teeth, lingered for a moment, and then said in a
resentful tone:

"Go to hell, you smug bastard!"

Sunny smiled pleasantly.

Berating himself was still fun.

"We're already in hell, though."

With that, he released control of his incarnation and allowed the avatar to
become a shadow once again.

Gloomy was a little damaged and seemed rattled by the whole experience,
but at least it wasn't vomiting blood.

Sunny sighed and looked at the ceiling.

'I'll need to think a bit before venturing into the Shadow Realm again.'

He lowered his gaze and looked at darkness hiding behind the open gate of
the Shadow Lantern.

His thoughts returned to what he had seen, sensed, and experienced on the
other side. It was a little bit overwhelming. However...

Sunny had a feeling that there was something in particular that he was
missing at the moment.

Something important.

As a scowl appeared on his face, his shadow stirred on the floor.

In the next moment, Sunny's eyes widened, and he reeled back.

Almost at the same time, there was a quiet rustle, and another black arrow
suddenly shot out of the gate of the Shadow Lantern, missing his head by a
hair's breadth.
It struck the ceiling above, tearing a hole in it and making the Marvelous
Mimic shudder.

'It... it can follow!'

Stunned and terrified, Sunny fell on his back. He froze for a moment,
dazed, and then hurriedly slammed the gate of the Shadow Lantern shut.

A few moments passed in tense silence, but nothing else happened.

The basement of the Brilliant Emporium was silent and peaceful.

...Sunny's mind, however, was anything but.

Staring at the Shadow Lantern with a pale face, he inhaled sharply, and then
slowly breathed out.

'What... what the hell have I almost brought back from that cursed place?'
1956 Consider Death

In the end, Sunny lost more than he gained from his first venture into the
Shadow Realm.

He had gained precious knowledge of what awaited him on the other side of
the Gates of Shadow... as well as two black arrows, one smeared in his own
blood.

After retrieving the second arrow from the ceiling of the dining hall of the
Brilliant Emporium, Sunny studied them both with a dark expression.

The arrows were not enchanted in any way. In fact, they looked quite
simple, almost makeshift —the shafts were made of dark wood, the
arrowheads were cut from obsidian, and the fletching was made from crow
feathers. Nevertheless, there was nothing mundane about them.

Just by holding the two black arrows, Sunny could tell that he was holding
something mystical. There was a quiet, deadly aura surrounding them, as if
the arrows themselves had presence, akin to one a Saint would possess.
Each was also much heavier than he would have expected, hinting that the
materials used to craft them were not at all ordinary.

Sunny did not know who had crafted these arrows and from what, but
taking a closer look at them, he was not at all surprised that the Onyx
Mantle had been pierced.

He had created more than enough Memories to know mystical materials

when he saw them. The materials used to fashion the two black arrows...
were at least akin to something he would have harvested from a Great
Nightmare Creature, but somehow even more daunting.

Even the shadows cast by the arrows were a little threatening.

There was something else about them, as well.

Sunny's expression turned even darker when he sensed something familiar

about the black arrows.
If he wasn't wrong... they seemed to be imbued with the killing intent of the
unknown shadow stalker, etched with their desire to see the prey die.

The arrows carried their own will.

'Well. I'm still alive, aren't I?'

Better yet, he was now in possession of two supremely lethal arrows. Sunny
had many uses for something so precious... who knew, perhaps he would be
able to return the favor and sink

them into the heart of that damned archer one day.

Sadly, he had lost something far more precious in return.

It was not the health of one of his avatars, either...

Grimacing, Sunny glanced at the Shadow Lantern.

It was his ability to use its [Gates of Shadow] enchantment.

Of course, he was still able to send shadows inside or call them back.
However, now that the unseen assailant had shown their startling ability to
follow shadows back through the gate of the Shadow Lantern, Sunny was
wary of opening it again.

Who knew what would crawl out of the Shadow Realm the next time he
did? By personally passing through the Gates of Shadow, Sunny seemed to
have attracted the attention of at least one creature dwelling there. Now that
the shadow archer knew his scent, it would not be impossible for them to
wait patiently in the area where the Lantern's led to.

Sunny uttered a quiet curse and dismissed the Shadow Lantern.

Now was not a good time to lose one of his most useful tools. The war was
raging on, and the battle with the Sovereigns was drawing closer with each
passing day.
He would have to step into the Shadow Realm and slay the mysterious
archer sooner rather than later.

...But not now.

Now, Sunny had to collect his thoughts and pay attention to his over
endeavors.

First, his sorcery.

He looked at the destroyed display stand, sighed, and called upon the
shadows to clean up the debris.

There was a lot to do, and no time to waste.

As he headed for the warehouse hidden behind the Memory Boutique

portion of the Brilliant Emporium's basement, though, Sunny lingered,
staring into the distance with a complicated expression.

He was still being tormented by curiosity, wishing to learn the secrets of the
Shadow Realm. If anything, his thirst had only grown stronger after
witnessing the unforgettable vista of the dark, silent land. But he could wait
for a bit before trying to quench it...

Nevertheless, he had to consider something. He had to consider death.

The soul storm raging in the distance and the strange fact that his own soul
had started disintegrating almost immediately after entering the Shadow
Realm were obviously connected. In fact, Sunny had an idea of what the
storm of soul essence was...

If his shadow had been almost reduced to a whirlwind of essence, then

other shadows would be, too. And since the shadows of all living beings
that died were supposed to enter the Shadow Realm...

He could safely assume that the soul storm was formed by countless
shadows being transformed into essence by the dark expanse of the Shadow
Realm.
Countless living beings perished every day across the Dream Realm and the
waking world. Just here in Godgrave, the constant cycle of the scarlet
jungle extending its tendrils to the surface, giving birth to legions of
creatures, and being reduced to ash by the incandescent abyss above would
probably send an endless stream of shadows to the empty Realm of Shadow
God.

Where they would be slowly ground to dust, turning into swirling rivers of
essence.

Maybe that essence was then released back into the universe, giving birth to
new life...

If so, then Sunny might have just witnessed the inner mechanism of
existence.

He might have seen the true workings of death.

What was death, really?

Death... was a weapon created to fight against the Void and its Corruption.

Death was a tool to bring end to that which had been endless before.

There was this peculiar detail that he had not really considered before. The
souls of Nightmare Creature were tainted by the vile corruption of the Void.
And yet, once a Nightmare Creature was slain, the soul shards retrieved
from its body bore no signs of Corruption. No Awakened had ever become
corrupted as a result of absorbing soul shards.

Which meant that death somehow cleansed the souls of the Nightmare
Creatures from the dark taint of the Void, putting an end to it.

But how could one end something that was supposed to be endless?

Sunny lowered his head and rubbed his face tiredly.

Was he thinking about useless things? Maybe he was...

But then again, maybe he wasn't.

Destroying something might end it, but if a thing was indestructible... then
transforming it into something new was a kind of end, as well.

Shadow God had created death, but he had also become death. He
swallowed everything that died, and gifted the dead the peace of an end.

Was that peace... the process of being stripped of everything that made a
being themselves, grinding their very soul into a river of essence, and
releasing that essence back into the world to live anew?

If so, it was a terrifying thought. But also... a little comforting.

Most of all, it made Sunny think about his own soul, and the shadows that
he himself carried within its dark depths.

Was his soul... a weak, tiny seed of a new Shadow Realm?

'Now that is really terrifying.'

Shivering, Sunny threw these thoughts out of his head and walked into the
material storage of the Brilliant Emporium with determined steps.
1957 Sorcerer's To Do List

Sunny spent the next several hours exploring various mystical materials he
had accumulated over the years and considering what, exactly, he was going
to craft.

The memories of the Shadow Realm kept creeping into his mind, but he
resolutely ignored them and tried to concentrate on the task at hand. Sadly,
just as he did, there was another distraction.

It was Aiko, who wanted to know where the large hole in the floor of the
dining hall had come from.

Sparing his bewildered assistant a neutral look, Sunny turned back to the
shelves and gave her a non-committal shrug.

"Oh, you know. I just happened to find the Gates of Death, by accident, and
decided to take a quick look at what was on the side. It was quite pretty,
actually... sadly, my soul kept disintegrating, and someone shot an arrow
through my heart. So, I took offense, and left:'

He sighed.

"But I sort of forgot to close the door after returning. As you can see... we
lost a bit of flooring as a result. And an entire display case! The fancy one
with silver inlays and tempered glass..."

His expression turned somber.

His incarnation would heal, and so would the floor of the Brilliant
Emporium — it was a part of the Marvelous Mimic, after all. But that
display stand was lost forever!

Aiko stared at him for a while, then lowered her head tiredly.

"Uh-huh. I see,"
Her gaze naturally settled on the two black arrows laying on a table nearby.
She studied them for a moment, then shivered.

"W—what's that?"

Sunny glanced her way absentmindedly.

"Oh, those? Those are arrows from Death's Realm. By the way, can you go
clean the one on the left? I got it wet... you know. With my heart blood."

Then, he scratched the back of his head and added in a doubtful tone:

"Actually, scratch that. Don't clean it... in fact, don't touch it at all. It's
imbued with a little bit of death's essence, so who knows what will happen
if you do?"

Sunny was a Saint, but Aiko was merely an Awakened. He still remembered
always being killed by a mere glimpse of Nether's killing intent, frozen in
the reflections of the Great River. So, it was better to keep these arrows
away from her... just in case.

The petite girl gave the black arrows a tense look and took a hurried step
away.

"H—ha! You and your jokes, boss. Ha-ha!"

Nevertheless, she then took another step back and even floated up a little.

Glancing at Sunny, Aiko hesitated for a moment, then hastily left the
warehouse.

He nodded.

"Probably a good decision..."

With that, Sunny returned to his thoughts.

Weaving. There were a lot of Memories that he wanted to create.

His end goal was the sword he had promised Nephis... a blade to slay the
gods. Both figuratively and literally. That sword was meant to accompany
her into the battle against the Sovereigns, but Sunny was looking further
than that. He was looking to what would happen after the Sovereigns were
gone — to the time she would be Sacred, and then Divine.

That was why he wanted to bind the sword to her soul, and that was why he
could not start forging it right now. After all, that sword had to be the
pinnacle of his currentl skill as a sorcerer, not a tool to sharpen it.

Aside from the sword, Sunny also wanted to craft a few Memories for
himself. He wanted to create several soulbound charms, in particular, so
that the [Underworld Armament] trait of the Onyx Armor would be finally
put to use again. He had some ideas, but wasn't certain what these charms
would be just yet. He also did not know how many of them he wanted to
create...

One would be enough, but seven would be better. That way, each of his
incarnations would be able to use a unique soulbound charm, and all of
them would be able to use the charms simultaneously.

'Do I even have enough imagination to invent seven suitable charms?'

He was still determined to only use Memories for convenience or to better

express his own power, not borrow power from the Memories themselves.

In any case, it was too early to think about crafting the charms. He had not
even discovered a way to bind Memories to souls yet, anyway — so,
planning to forge them was a bit premature.

Then, there was Saint. Unlike his other Shadows, she could use Memories
too. Not any type of Memory, though — only weapons and charms. The
graceful stone knight had the ability to either manifest weapons from her
darkness or augment existing weapons with it. Currently, she was only
doing the former, but doing the latter could push her to even greater
strength.
And, just like Sunny, her armor could augment the enchantments of a single
charm.

Finally, there was Rain. His sister had been suffering a lot since coming to
Godgrave. She had endured many harrowing battles, surviving against all
odds when surrounded by Nightmare Creature far more powerful than her...
every soldier in this godforsaken place had.

She had also killed quite a number of abominations, and since the
Nightmare Spell could not reward her, Sunny had to take its place.

'Right. I owe a few Memories to Rain.'

These ones were probably the easiest for him to forge due to her low Rank.
Handing Rain Memories of higher Ranks was... an option, but not a very
good one. Both because her pool of essence would be swiftly drained by
their power-hungry enchantments and because she would not be able to
wield them very effectively.

Plus, she would learn to rely on the Memories provided by Sunny too much,
which would stunt her own growth.

There was also the matter of people questioning where a young Awakened
with no backing had received Memories of great power. Not only would
that cast suspicion on Rain, but there was a slight danger that someone
would decide to try taking them from her.

Her safety was already guaranteed by his presence by her side, so Sunny
did not want to overdo it with her equipment.

'I'll start with crafting something for Rain.'

That would be a good start, as well as something that would allow him to
realize his recent insights.
1958 Practice Run

Sunny had a lot to consider.

He wanted to give Rain the best chance of, if not thriving, then at least
standing on her own in the war between Song and Valor. The problem was
that there were only a handful of individuals in the world who could stand
their ground in the sweltering hell of Godgrave.

The rest of them — the Awakened soldiers, the Ascended officers, even the
Transcendent generals — were really out of their depth. They were not
meant to be here, in the middle of a harrowing Death Zone, and they were
definitely not meant to spill each other's blood for the benefit of two callous
Sovereigns.

If even Saints could not guarantee their survival in the war, then mere
Awakened like Rain could only rely on luck and good fortune to survive. Of
course, Rain had her faithful shadow companion to keep her safe... but she
did not quite know how far her teacher was willing to go to protect her.

It was so by design. Sunny had intentionally made himself look eccentric

and unreliable in front of her, so that she wasn't stifled in his vast shadow.

Still, he could think of a few things that would help Rain in the days and
months to come.

'Let's see...'

He thought back to his experiences on the Forgotten Shore, and the

Memories he had relied on to survive there.

In a sense, Godgrave and the Forgotten Shore were somewhat alike. The
latter was a dire crucible in which the Dreamers of the Dark City had been
forged into unparalleled warriors... those of them who survived, of course.
Even Aiko was someone far more dangerous and capable than an average
Awakened was, despite her outwardly whimsical and cowardly appearance.
The former was much the same for the soldiers of the two great armies.
Those of them who were destined to survive would come out much more
fearsome and stalwart on the other side.

So, Sunny could very well look to his own experience to determine what
Rain needed the most at the moment.

The nature of the war was also changing. Before, during its early stage, the
dangers his sister had faced were predominantly those posed by the Dream
Realm itself. The scarlet jungle, the incandescent white abyss above, the
hordes of powerful Nightmare Creatures that her weapons could barely
harm...

But things would be different now. The two Domains had already
established themselves on the bones of the dead deity, which meant that one
day very soon, the clashes between their soldiers would become far more
frequent. There would be bloody skirmishes, devious ambushes, and large-
scale battle fought under the grey veil of clouds.

Fighting against humans was very different from fighting against

Nightmare Creatures, especially if Rain was unfortunate enough to face a
Master or a Saint on the battlefield.

...Killing humans was also very different from killing Nightmare Creatures.

Sunny himself was not even sure how he would handle the next stage of the
Domain war due to that.

No, he could not even call it the Domain War anymore. Now that the House
of Night had been wiped out, and the government had been forced to break
its neutrality, there was no party uninvolved in the war — the whole world
was dragged into the conflict between the King of Swords and the Queen of
Worms. Both of the worlds, really... so, it was a World War.

Or a Realm War, to be precise.

He sighed.
Rain's soul arsenal certainly had quality — he had forged her bow himself,
after all, and gifted her the Puppeteer's Shroud. There was also the quiver of
arrows and the little shadow snake, which could serve her as a melee
weapon. However, the collection of her tools and Memories was lacking in
quantity...

Mostly because Sunny had been a little negligent in his role as a surrogate
replacement of the Nightmare Spell.

'So, what does Rain need the most?'

There were several areas that needed improvement.

The first and the most obvious one was her lacking ability to slay enemies
of higher Ranks. Most Nightmare Creatures of Godgrave were
Transcendent, so many Awakened were physically incapable of harming
them.

Of course, local abominations were also strange, since they were born
weaker than most creatures of their Rank, then matured and gained true
strength in a matter of days — at least on the surface. That was how the two
great armies had been able to push the scarlet jungle back, slaying these
Nightmare Creatures before the enemy could come into their natural power.

Nevertheless, Rain could use a weapon that was capable of piercing the
hides of even mature abominations with at least some degree of ease.

Considering that her weapon of choice was a bow, that meant arrows.

Sunny glanced at the two black arrows, then shook his head.

If even Aiko wasn't safe handling them, Rain wouldn't be, either.

The second area that needed improvement was Rain's defense.

The Puppeteer's Shroud was a good armor, but it wasn't the most durable of
them. Its main benefits were that it was light, sufficiently resilient, and
protected one's mind. Better yet, it had an invigorating effect on someone's
mind as well, helping its master deal better with mental fatigue — which
was perhaps the most valuable gift Sunny could have given Rain in a
dreadful war.

That said, he had not anticipated that she would keep ending up in the midst
of a melee so often when transferring the Puppeteer's Shroud. Wasn't she
supposed to be an archer?! Why was his sister constantly fighting side by
side with that girl, Tamar of Sorrow?

Sunny grimaced and shook his head.

Then again, he had been supposed to be a stealthy assassin, too. Life never
went the way one wanted it to go...

The Puppeteer's Shroud had seemed sufficient at the start of the war. But
now that the two great armies were about to clash, Rain would be going into
battle against humans... against Awakened. She would be exposed to
countless Aspects, and those were varied and unpredictable.

So, she needed to both bolster her overall defenses and gain resistances
against a varied array of attacks, from relatively simple elemental one to
more strange and sophisticated forms of harm.

Lastly, there was the third area... perhaps the most important one.

It was utility and tools.

Sunny had used the Midnight Shard and the Puppeteer's Shroud well on the
Forgotten Shore, but if anyone asked which Memories had saved his life the
most there... he would have to say that they were the Endless Spring and
other utility Memories, like the Dark Wing, Neph's Evertwine, or even the
Prowling Thorn.

In fact, if Rain had the Dark Wing during her days as a laborer on a road
crew, she would not have ended up almost dying in one of the canyons of
the Moonriver Plain. Of course, she had not Awakened yet back then, so it
was a moot point.

Sunny hesitated for a while, looking around the crowded warehouse.

Then, he nodded.

'Arrows, defensive equipment, utility Memories.'

He had his work cut out for him.

1959 In the Bag

Sunny had woven many Memories in the past. However, today, he had an
entirely new goal —weave something entirely new without relying on
imitation.

In theory, he was ready for that challenge. His foundation was quite solid —
firstly, he had meticulously studied countless weaves, so his mental library
of string patterns was sufficiently vast. Secondly, he had spent numerous
hours pouring over these patterns, trying to discern how they worked.

These efforts allowed him enough insight to change and modify the weaves
he was familiar with however he saw fit... well, maybe not. Although Sunny
could indeed achieve a lot, he was still somewhat limited in the scale and
scope of such alterations.

For now.

Lastly, there was his new ability to fuse with the Memories in his
possession, which allowed him to fathom the connection between the
weaves and the enchantments they produced on a much deeper level.

It was that last gain that was supposed to give him the push he needed to
break free from his past limitations.

Sunny looked around the material storage, then walked over to the section
containing various leathers — which he had made himself from the hides of
Nightmare Creatures over the years.

Choosing a roll that wasn't too valuable, he considered it for a moment. Of

course, the low value of this leather was relative — Sunny could afford to
disregard it, but it would be a real treasure for most Awakened, and more
than a few Masters as well.

Nodding in satisfaction, Sunny picked up the roll of leather, then found a

few more materials and left for the workshop. Once there, Sunny unrolled
the leather, traced it roughly, and then swiftly cut it. The material was
durable enough to resist enchanted weapons, but he effortlessly sliced
through it using nothing but his nail.

After that, Sunny got to work.

Sitting down, he manifested four more hands. These shadow hands were
responsible for weaving threads of essence, while his original pair was
handling the leather.

Funnily enough, Sunny also summoned Weaver's Needle. Today, it had

some mundane stitching to do...

Slowly, a leather backpack took shape in his hands. The backpack was on
the smaller side, but crafted with utmost care — in fact, it could quite easily
compete with the most luxurious leather bags sold by famous fashion
designers in the waking world. That was how good his craftsmanship had
become...

After paying a ridiculous amount of credits for what would eventually

become the [Overpriced Saddle], Sunny had given a solemn vow to never
be robbed blind like that again and learn how to handle leather himself. The
name of that Memory was not a joke, but rather an expression of his deep,
inconsolable anguish!

He continued to focus on his work. When Sunny needed additional tools, he

manifested them from shadows. When he needed thread, he used the
diamond thread from the Ebony Tower. Eventually, all that was left was to
add the clasps to hold the flap of the backpack tightly closed when moving.

Finishing that, he gave the backpack an appreciative look.

"Damn... it's a shame I can't sell you right now."

Aiko already had the combat equipment market

on the Valor side of Godgrave basically cornered, but no one said that they
could not expand into fashion... people longed to look good even in the
middle of an apocalyptic war, after all. Take Kai, for example, who chose
his armor based on how pretty it was.

'That fool...'

Shaking his head regretfully, Sunny walked over to a massive chest and
opened its lid, revealing a radiant pile of soul shards. Most of his fortune
was safely stored in the Nameless Temple, but he had plenty of shards at
hand here, as well.

Fishing out a few Ascended shards from the pile, Sunny returned to his
workbench. He did not know yet how many anchors his weave would need,
so it was better to be safe than sorry.

Then, he summoned the Endless Spring, put it down, and gave it a

complicated look.

Sunny had always suspected that the beautiful glass bottle was, at its core, a
spatial storage Memory akin to the Covetous Coffer. However, after
exploring it recently, he realized that he could not have been further from
the truth.

The Endless Spring was... unique, to say the least. In hindsight, it was a
truly remarkable Memory, far beyond what other enchanted tools of its
Rank and Class were supposed to be. But then again, Cassie — the person
who had initially received it from the Spell — was quite an unusual
Awakened herself.

Considering that her Aspect was of the almost unheard of Sacred Rank, the
Nightmare from where the Endless Spring had come must have been a
remarkable trial, as well.

In any case, the Endless Spring could not help Sunny with what he was
trying to do at the moment.

The Marvelous Mimic, however, did.

So, Sunny augmented his Shadow instead of the beautiful glass bottle.
He wanted to create a spatial storage Memory for Rain, and for that, there
was no better reference point than the Covetous Coffer, which the
Marvelous Mimic had been born of.

Sunny closed his eyes and sighed, contemplating the next step... all the
while continuing to weave threads of shadow essence with his additional
hands, of course.

Space was an absolute law, so violating it was no easy task. He wasn't sure
that there were Memories out there that could achieve that, but if there
were, they must have been of the Divine Rank. He was far from being
capable of creating something like that.

Luckily, there were plenty of ways to manipulate space without violating its
laws.

The original Covetous Coffer had done just that, and the Marvelous Mimic
inherited this ability. It contained an independent space within itself — a
pocket dimension, basically — and at the same time served as a portal
between the larger world and that space. More than that...

Sunny leaned back with a contemplative expression.

In some sense, the Covetous Coffer had also been a soulbound Memory.
Not to the same degree as and in a different way than the Mantle of the
Underworld, but its capacity to mimic various objects, as well as the
volume of its inner space, had depended on the potency of its master's soul.

That was definitely something Sunny had to explore further. Even if he

could not repeat what Nether had done with the Mantles, there were still
ways for him to achieve the desired effect.

In any case, creating an independent dimension and then connecting it to

the world through a Memory was still a difficult task. Sunny was confident
that he could do it, if given enough time for research and experimentation...
but Rain did not need something that sophisticated, and there was a much
easier way.
1960 Master Weaver

Sunny could simply trap a bit of space within the backpack, making it much
larger on the inside than it was on the outsider. Of course, that would create
several problems of its own, which he would then need to solve.

For example, there was the issue of weight — a simple Memory like that
would be able to contain many items, but it would also weigh accordingly.
Having a spatial storage Memory was of little use if its master could not lift
it, after all. Luckily, Sunny had long mastered enchantments that
manipulated weight. By adding a simplified version of the [Feather of
Truth], he would be able to give the backpack the ability to reduce the
weight of all items stored inside.

Then, there was the issue of continuity. Effie had actually possessed a
spatial storage Memory of her own long before the Black Beast Locket, all
the way back on the Forgotten Shore. However, it possessed a glaring Flaw
when compared to the Covetous Coffer — once it was dismissed,
everything inside was tossed to the ground instead of being safely stored
within her soul.

The same would be true for the leather backpack, unless Sunny came up
with countermeasures.

'Huh...'

He had to weave plenty more shadow threads, so there was enough time to
think.

'Actually... I feel that the answer is hidden in the rudimentary enchantments

that all Memories possess. The most basic of them — the ability to dismiss
a Memory and manifest it again from essence. If I can somehow make the
backpack treat everything stored inside of it as a false Memory... maybe a
part of itself? That's worth exploring...'

He mentally planned out the desired enchantments in his head.

Just like with the backpack itself, which was made from leather, but
required many little details to be added — like clasps, pockets, decorations,
and so on — the fundamental weave also needed many additions to perform
well.

There was a lot to think about.

Eventually, though, Sunny took a deep breath and concentrated on the

backpack, peering beneath its surface.

He was ready... as ready as he would ever be.

The tentative design of the weave was fleshed out in his mind. Unlike how
he had done it before, meticulously imagining every twist and turn of each
single thread of essence, Sunny did it differently this time.

Instead of a precise and clear image, the weave in his head was more...
abstract. There were clearly defined sections, those that were responsible
for the overall structure and framework of the entire tapestry. There were
also several precisely mapped patterns, mostly the smaller ones.

However, there were also segments that were loose and vague, more of a
concept than a detailed solution.

Those, he was going to finish in the process, following his knowledge,

intuition, and inspiration.

Before starting, Sunny cleansed his mind, bringing it to a state of clarity —

something he usually only did when going into battle, but which felt
strangely appropriate.

Then, he picked up Weaver's Needle and one of the soul shards...

And started to weave.

Sunny started slowly, creating the framework of the weave and its
rudimentary enchantments. In the process, he dove deeper into the state of
unity with the Marvelous Mimic, exploring its connection to space.
Of course, the Marvelous Mimic was a Shadow now, not a Memory. But
Sunny remembered the spellweave of the Covetous Coffer quite well. By
becoming the Mimic, he could mentally connect its traits and Attributes to
the corresponding patterns on the Coffer.

'I think... I understand...'

Following an intense spark of inspiration, Sunny entered the state of flow

and switched to the conceptual patterns of essence strings he had loosely
planned. It was not absolute improvisation... rather, it was a guided
improvisation that sought to invent the correct connections between the
concepts and elements of the weave he had prepared in advance, forming
the functional pattern out of them.

There was a strange, unfathomable, and beautiful logic to weaving that

Sunny did not quite understand, but could feel intuitively. It felt close now,
just out of reach now.

He was the heir of Weaver, after all.

Armed with that intuitive kinship, the deep well of theoretical knowledge
he had built, and the state of unity with the Marvelous Mimic, Sunny used
all six of his hands to form the intricate patterns of essence threads.

At some point, his eyes widened.

'This... this is it!'

As if by magic, the chaotic mess of strings was slowly forming into a

harmonious tapestry, giving birth to order. The correct decisions were just...
clicking together. In that moment, Sunny fully felt the nature of a
spellweave, where everything was tied together and interconnected.

Resolving one problem led to a solution to another, which hinted at how to

deal with two more. Like that, a cascade of understanding was born, helping
him deal with dilemmas that he had no prior knowledge of, and pushing the
weave to its final form.
'It's... wonderful...'

Finally, many hours later, Sunny let out a long sigh and dismissed the
shadow hands, looking at the beautifully crafted leather backpack with
satisfaction.

He had succeeded.

He had created a spatial storage Memory — not by copying a pattern

created by the Spell, and not even by altering one.

Instead, he had enchanted the backpack simply by having a sufficient

understanding of the fundamental rules of weaving, graduating from
imitation to originality.

This was his first entirely original Memory. Sunny smiled tiredly.

'Hell. Am I a bona fide master weaver now?'

His skill was at least on par with that of the unknown sorcerer who had
created Ananke's Mantle, and even superior to it in many regards.

And it would only continue to grow.

In fact, he was about to enter a period of explosive growth. The sky was the
limit.

Well... maybe here in Godgrave, that phrase was not the best to use.

In any case...

There was one last step left.

Sunny stared at the leather backpack lovingly.

"What should I call you, huh?"

He intended for Rain to use it well.

Sunny scratched his chin.

What was the purpose of a spatial storage Memory?

Obviously, it was to hold things.

Not just hold things, of course, but hold it away from the grabby hands of
other humans.

And here, in front of him, was basically a leather bag.

Sunny's eyes glistened, and he raised a finger into the air.

"Ah, I know!"

It was so obvious.

He nodded in satisfaction, as if having arrived at a perfect answer.

"I shall name you... the Bag of Withholding!"

1961 Soul of a Poet

Several more days passed... Sunny would have lost count how many,
honestly, if not for the fact that two of his incarnations were out there in the
world — one marching with the Song Army, the other preparing to raid and
destroy its supply lines.

He had spent these days immersed in weaving.

At some point, Aiko delivered a collection of Memories to the basement of

the Brilliant Emporium. Some of them she had purchased and was about to
resell, some had come from the Fire Keepers. Sunny had to take breaks
from time to time to rest his boiling mind, replenish essence, and weave
more shadow threads, so he spent his breaks studying these Memories.

With each Memory he fused with, his insights grew.

Almost two weeks had already passed since his battle with Revel. The
Marvelous Mimic had long healed the hole made in the floor of the dining
hall by the black arrow, and Nephis was set to arrive any moment now.

Letting out a tired sigh, Sunny took a step back and looked at the Memories
resting on the workbench in front of him.

The first of them was the [Bag of Withholding], the spatial storage Memory
that had helped him advance his sorcery to a new level.

Next to it was a canteen which looked like it was made from green copper,
housed in a black leather sleeve with an intricate image of a coiling serpent
etched into it. There were some decorative patterns on the canteen itself, as
well, all following the same theme.

In truth, Sunny had crafted it from the leftovers scraps of the Huntsman's
axe. The canteen was a kind of storage Memory, as well, albeit quite
different from the Bag of Withholding — it could store a great volume of
water, as well as purify it. Needless to say, it was his crude attempt at
replicating the Endless Spring.
He had called it the [Green Canteen].

...The [Knockoff Endless Spring] had been considered, but eventually

dismissed.

Crafting the [Green Canteen] had not taken him a lot of time, actually.
However, unlike the original, it had to be filled by hand — so, Sunny sent
Aiko to do just that. The canteen could really contain a lot of water, so his
poor assistant had to spend an entire day filling it under the confused gazes
of the Fire Keepers. They even chased her off the Ivory Island when the
water level of the lake started to drop...

The third Memory Sunny had crafted for Rain had a very simple
enchantment, but was exceedingly difficult to devise. In fact, in terms of
complexity, it might have been the most troublesome of them all, forcing
Sunny to really strain himself mentally.

It was a long strip of black silk that could be used as a sash or as a scarf,
decorated with subtle embroidery. After thinking for a while, Sunny had
named it [In Case of Emergency].

The [In Case of Emergency] was meant to serve as a safeguard against a

very particular peril — the incinerating radiance of the white abyss that
hung above Godgrave. Its function was indeed simple —if given a mental
command, it would instantly turn the person wearing it completely still.

It didn't matter if the person was standing stably on the ground, in the
middle of falling over, or even leaping through the air. As soon as the
enchantment of the [In Case of Emergency] was activated, they would
become frozen in place.

It had taken Sunny a lot of time to construct the weave of this Memory —
not only because it demanded much more complexity than one would have
anticipated, but also because he had to make it as efficient as possible so
that it did not consume a lot of essence.

After all, Rain could potentially topple after a few hours of immobility due
to running out of essence, which would render the entire Memory useless.
So, Sunny had tried hard, and eventually managed to make the [In Case of
Emergency] consume less essence than any Awakened could replenish
naturally, thus making its enchantment somewhat passive — as long as it
was used by a person of Rain's weight.

That was it for the utility Memories Sunny had prepared. Pressed for time,
he had no choice but to eventually turn his attention to other areas.

Next to the neatly rolled sash were three arrows, each possessing a unique
enchantment.

They were [Heavy Blow], [Outskirts at Noon], and [Don't Cut Yourself].

All three had black shafts, crafted from the charred wood of the Burned
Forest. The fletching and arrowheads, however, were different.

The [Heavy Blow] had grey fletching an arrowhead forged from dull metal.
Its enchantment was a vastly improved version of the [Burden of Peace] —
one of the enchantments of the sorely missed [Morgan's Warbow]. Once the
arrow pierced the flesh of the enemy, its master could pour out their essence
to make it immensely heavy. The more essence was spent, the heavier the
arrow would become.

[Heavy Blow] was meant to slow powerful enemies down.

The [Outskirts at Noon] was also meant to debilitate a strong enemy, but in
a much more insidious way. Its fletching was white, and its arrowhead was
carved out of bone — a shard of bone Sunny had picked up here in
Godgrave. Although its enchantment was his original creation, it had been
inspired by the [Blessing of Dusk] from the Shroud of Graceless Dusk.

What Sunny had done was store a mental image inside the arrow — a
mental copy of the overwhelming disorientation he had experienced after
enveloping the outskirts of NQSC with his shadow sense for the first time.
Once the arrow struck true, this terrible cacophony of sensations was
projected into the victim's mind, hopefully causing complete sensory
overload.
[Outskirts at Noon] was meant to daze the enemy. The master of the arrow
could continue to expend essence to sustain the disorienting effect.

Finally, there was the [Don't Cut Yourself]. Its arrow and arrowhead were
green, the latter forged from the same metal as the [Beast of Prey] and the
[Green Canteen].

Unlike the other two arrows, which were meant to debilitate enemies, this
one was meant to kill. It carried a deadly toxin, infecting the blood of those
pierced by its sharp arrowhead. The longer the master of the arrow fed the
enchantment with essence, the more poisoned the enemy would become.

The harm dealt by the toxin was cumulative, so it was a perfect weapon for
Rain, who mostly faced enemies far above her in terms of power. Even
though she was much weaker, with enough determination and tenacity, she
would be able to slowly kill even the most terrifying of the jungle beasts.

In fact, Sunny had created all three arrows while thinking about how to help
his sister deal with Nightmare Creatures that she had no business fighting,
and yet had no choice but to fight.

Sadly, the arrows had active enchantments, so she was going to be tactical
about when and how to use them. Nevertheless, he would give her effective
tools to choose from, at least.

Lastly, there were the defensive Memories he had crafted.

One of them looked quite unassuming — it was a polished piece of volcanic

glass hanging on a leather cord. It was a powerful charm that could
passively bestow a moderate degree of resistance to elemental attacks upon
its wielder, or a high degree of protection if used actively.

Better yet, the master of the charm could limit the scope of what resistances
were active, thus augmenting them even further. As a bonus, it could either
cool the wielder down in case of heat or warm them up in case of severe
cold.

Sunny had called the charm the [Piece de Resistance].

...He had no idea what these words meant, exactly, but it sounded fancy and
vaguely fitting.

Apart from the charm, Sunny had also crafted a Memory inspired by the
chainmail shirt Nephis used to wear — which was a unique piece of
enchanted armor that could be worn atop or below other Memories of that
type.

The Memory he had devised was designed to augment the defensive

properties of the Puppeteer's Shroud, and was made from black, lusterless
leather. There was also a lining of light, dark-grey chainmail to make the
entire ensemble more durable, effectively adding a second, hidden layer of
physical protection to the Puppeteer's Shroud.

He had called it the [Safety First].

These were all the Memories Sunny had crafted for Rain.

His gaze shifted to one more item laying on the workbench.

It was a bracelet much similar to his own.

However... Sunny had not been able to finish it, yet. He needed Cassie's
help to complete the weave of this unassuming, but deeply complicated
Memory.

'Still... I have outdone myself this time, if I do say so myself.'

A faint smile appeared on Sunny's face.

He couldn't wait to present these Memories to Rain!

There was just one thing that bothered him, though...

Sunny frowned, then summoned the runes and glanced at the list of his own
Memories.

[Shadow Chair], [Overpriced Saddle], [Weaver's Needle], [Handy Bracelet],

[Quintessence Pearl], [Definitely Not Me]...
His gaze shifted to the Memories he had crafted in the last few days.

[Bag of Withholding], [Green Canteen], [In Case of Emergency], [Don't Cut

Yourself], [Outskirts at Noon], [Safety First]...

He closed his eyes, and let out a quiet sigh.

There was no denying it.

'I guess... I have a poetic soul, too...'

Sunny was starting to understand how he and Rain had ended up with their
weird names.
1962 Darkest Shadow

Sunny massaged his tired shoulders and yawned. As a Saint — and quite a
special one at that — he did not tire easily. Still, this latest marathon had
been a little exhausting. From battling Revel to fusing with Shadows and
Memories, to weaving without rest for a week straight... his mind was in
dire need of respite.

Particularly because neither the Lord of Shadows nor Rain's teacher had any
time to rest, either.

Shaking his head, Sunny picked up the [Bag of Withholding], opened its
clasp, and stored the rest of the Memories inside. With that done, he finally
left the basement of the Brilliant Emporium, expecting to crash onto his
lavish bed on the second floor and go to sleep.

However, before that, he walked over to the entrance and returned the
Silver Bell to its usual place above the door.

"There. All better."

Sunny stared at the bell for a few moments.

'It's a little funny.'

He had expressed regret about not having a home before, which prompted
Noctis — another displaced Saint — to give his heartfelt and thoughtful
advice. Noctis himself had built the Sanctuary and made it his home, while
Sunny...

Sunny had the Brilliant Emporium.

It really showed how pathological he was, making a home that was literally
capable of following him around wherever he went, so that he would never
lose it again.

It worked pretty great, though. He was still living comfortably in his cottage
despite leaving Bastion and coming to Godgrave, after all.
Sunny smiled.

'...I might be a genius.'

He briefly wondered how the Marvelous Mimic would look one day in the
distant future. Would he and Nephis be living together by then? Hopefully,
yes.

Imagining an idle life with Neph in this cozy cottage made Sunny's smile
widen. Surely, he would have to make some alterations to the interior. She
would definitely need a closet of her own... more than that, knowing Neph,
she would need a training ground first. Several rooms would have to be
added. Another bathroom, an office, a library...

A... a nursery?

Sunny coughed.

But then, his smile dimmed a little.

'Right.'

If the two of them were to even have a future, they would be Supreme.
Which meant that Nephis would be a queen — the sole ruler of humanity,
most likely, responsible for all the human territory in the Dream Realm and
their slowly collapsing homeworld as well.

A queen could not live in a modest cottage.

Sunny sighed.

'It's not a problem, though.'

There was another great thing about the Marvelous Mimic — it could
change shapes. The size and intricacy of its shape depended on the potency
of Sunny's soul, so by the time he was a Sovereign, his cottage could very
well be turned into a palace.

Sunny rubbed his face.

He was thinking about strange things.

'Time to get some sleep.'

Turning around, he headed for the stairs. But before he could reach them,
the Silver Bell rang, and Aiko entered the dining hall with a happy smile on
her face.

Noticing him, she froze.

"Boss! You're out of the basement?"

'She doesn't have to sound so surprised... it's not like I'm some kind of a
basement dweller!'

Sunny studied her for a few moments, then nodded.

"Yeah. Why are you so happy?"

The petite girl grinned.

"Oh... Saint Tyris is finally back at the camp. Which means that there won't
be any Cloudbreaks, at least for a while. Bah, they are so annoying... I was
on my way to the bathroom the last time one happened, and it lasted for
four damned hours!"

Sunny gave her an unamused look.

"Thanks for sharing. I could have done without knowing that last detail,
though."

But then, the meaning of what she had said finally dawned on him.

'Saint Tyris is back...'

Sky Tide had been traveling with Neph's party.

Which meant that Nephis was back, too...

His eyes brightened.

'Finally!'

Smiling, Sunny forgot about Aiko, turned around, and headed for the door.

After thinking for a bit, though, he used Shadow Step to jump to the second
floor of the Brilliant Emporium.

He had been stuck in the basement for two weeks, after all... and looked
accordingly.

Meeting Nephis in such an unsavory state was simply unacceptable.

'First, a shower...'

***

Sunny was understandably excited to see Nephis return... but so was the
entire Sword Army.

Currently, it was split between two camps. Most of the soldiers remained in
the main camp, while the former expedition force was settling in the
secondary camp on the breastbone of the dead deity.

Now that Nephis and her party were back, the deployment of troops would
probably change —after all, the very reason why it had taken her so long to
return was because she was supposed to have secured a wider and safer path
for the soldiers to move between the two camps on the way.

The secondary camp would serve as the spearhead of the war against the
Song Army, while the main camp would become its bastion in the rear.
Similarly, the troops currently stationed in the depths of the Breastbone
Reach were the most experienced soldiers of the Sword Army, having
endured the hellish expedition to subjugate the Vanishing Lake Citadel —
which was the name people had settled on after Nephis burned most of the
Citadel down during the fight against Moonveil.
The ones who had stayed in the main camp experienced plenty of battles, as
well, slowly claiming the eastern expanse of the Collarbone Plain and
battling the scarlet infestation. However, they only knew about the
harrowing journey of the expedition force and the devastating battle for the
Vanishing Lake from rumors.

Sunny did not know who had been responsible for the rumors — the elders
of Clan Valor, who wished to bolster morale, or Cassie herself — but they
painted quite a heroic picture of Summer Knight, the Lord of Shadows, and
Changing Star... especially the latter two.

Although he had spent most of his time locked away in the basement, he
still knew what was being said about the Lord of Shadows. If Sunny had not
been the nebulous Saint himself, he would have come to believe that the
Lord of Shadows was quite an awesome figure.

Mysterious, immensely powerful, and chillingly ruthless. A dauntless

warrior who wielded darkness and death as weapons, leading a cohort of
dreadful creatures to massacre and slaughter countless hordes of
abominations... and, at the same time, a calculating and cunning
commander who kept his soldiers alive in the face of most dire odds.

'Well... I am a little awesome, indeed.'

Sunny sometimes forgot how unbelievably powerful he was — which he

couldn't be blamed for, really, considering how the caliber of the enemies he
faced always seemed to evolve and reach comically unreasonable levels of
power faster than he did.

But from the point of view of an ordinary Awakened, the Lord of Shadows
would indeed appear as an absolutely monstrous existence, someone whose
dark and dreadful power defied all reason and logic.

The soldiers of the Sword Army would naturally feel blessed to have him
fighting for their side. The soldiers of the Song Army, meanwhile, would
soon learn to be terrified of shadows.
...Luckily, none of them knew that the Lord of Shadows was merely half of
Sunny, wielded no more than half of his true power.

If they did, they wouldn't have been able to sleep in peace.

1963 Brightest Star

Of course, no matter how much fame the Lord of Shadows had earned, it
could not be compared to the radiant renown of Changing Star, the last
daughter of the Immortal Flame clan.

It was understandable. By their very nature, one was meant to shine

brightly, while the other was meant to stay hidden and unnoticed.
Additionally, the Lord of Shadow was still a stranger, while Nephis was the
living idol for most of these people.

They had known and admired her family from decades ago, grew to care
about Nephis after her incredible feat on the Forgotten Shore, cheered and
celebrated when she returned from her long and lonesome journey across
the Dream Realm as a Master, and learned to rely on her and her sword in
the years that passed since the Chain of Nightmares.

Nephis had a bond with humanity that Sunny lacked.

So, it was natural that the entire camp of the Sword Army was excited to
see her return.

Funnily enough... Sunny knew that she was quite popular in the camp of the
Song Army, as well.

It was a bit strange, considering that Changing Star was an enemy to the
warriors of Song, but also somewhat expected, since the same bond that
existed between her and the soldiers of the Sword Army existed between
her and the soldiers of the Song Army, too.

Plus, everyone in the Song camp knew that Nephis was the only one among
the champions of Valor who had protested the King's decision to declare
war on the Song Domain.

Cassie had probably made sure that they did.

As a result, the soldiers of the Song Army did not particularly hate Nephis.
They showed anger and contempt when speaking about all the other Saints
of the Sword Domain, and especially the King of Swords himself, but
harbored no such feelings toward Changing Star of the Immortal Flame
clan.

Instead, when they spoke of her, there was just... melancholy, and a bit of
regret.

It was especially so for Rain. She rarely mentioned Nephis and her
companions, but Sunny knew that his sister felt a complicated mess of
emotions in that regard — after all, she remembered knowing them, even if
in her mind, it was because Effie had briefly lived in a neighboring house.

She remembered being taught by Nephis and Kai, being friendly with Effie,
and meeting Cassie a few times. Knowing that they were her enemies now,
and that she might meet them on a battlefield one day... was a difficult
conflict to navigate.

Then again, that was how every soldier in Godgrave felt. Although the war
between Anvil and Ki Song was positioned as a conflict between two
independent Domains, it was in fact a bitter civil war at its core.

Everyone knew and valued someone in the other army. Friends had been
forced to become reluctant enemies, and in some cases, even family
members found themselves fighting on different sides.

That was the nature of being an Awakened — most of them had not chosen
the region of the Dream Realm they called home. Instead, the Nightmare
Spell had chosen for them, and relatively few were capable of traveling
between distant Citadels, let alone crossing the Stormsea, employing the
services of a Saint, or gaining access to a Dream Gate to reach the other
Domain.

It was the same for Master Orum, whose clan had no choice but to become
a vassal of Valor simply because their Citadel was situated in the East. If the
Spell had sent him west of Godgrave, he would not have had to become a
traitor and die in a dark cell — he would have simply supported Ki Song,
his queen, openly and proudly.
So, there were a lot of rumblings in both of the great armies. Now that the
initial chaos had settled and the day when humans would have to spill each
other's blood was approaching, many felt resentment and trepidation about
the entire situation.

But what could they do? The great Supremes had made a decision, and little
people like them could not go against it even if they wished to.

Sunny believed that the discontent would only grow worse as the war went
on and the wounds it dealt to soldiers mounted, leaving countless scars on
their hearts... he was relying on that, actually. The war was an appalling
affair, after all, and its horrors would only become more vile in the months
to come.

The more disillusioned with the rule of the Sovereigns the valiant warriors
of both Domains became, the more willing they would be to accept Neph's
regicidal rebellion.

...Judging by how excited the soldiers were to see her return, things were
progressing according to plan, at least for now.

The fame and esteem of the Lord of Shadows would help Nephis, as well.
The more respected and feared he was, the more legitimate her claim to
power would seem — after all, strength was the foundation of legitimacy in
this violent world, and being able to lure someone that strong to her side
would become the best proof of her personal power.

Sunny had abandoned the Ivory Island and came to the gates of the
warcamp to watch Neph's party enter, mixing with the crowd. There were
excited voices all around him...

"They're back!"

"Look, it's her! Lady Nephis!"

"Thank the gods, the Fire Keepers seemed to all be alive..."

"Lady Nephis! Lady Nephis! Here!"

"Glory! Glory!"

People were talking about Sunny, as well.

"Wait, where's the Lord of Shadows?"

"He's not coming back, idiot. He returned to his temple to command the
western front."

"Temple? Why does that guy have a temple? What is he, a god?"

"Of course not! I mean... at least I don't think he is?"

"He might be..."

Sunny smiled crookedly, but then let out a wistful sigh.

It was as if none of them realized that what happened at Vanishing Lake,

while important for spreading the Sword Domain across Godgrave, was
really a Pyrrhic victory. Seven Saints of the Sword Army had perished,
which was not only a painful loss for humanity, but also the reason why
more of these soldiers would die in the future.

Of course, some people knew. The clans to which the fallen Saints had
belonged were informed, and the news spread. Nobody had tried to keep it a
secret, to begin with, at best trying to direct public attention somewhere
else.

To the supposed triumph of Changing Star and the Lord of Shadows, for
example, or to the perceived defeat of Dark Dancer Revel and her sisters.

But all of it were concerns for the future.

For now, Sunny simply wished to see Nephis after being separated from her
for too many days.

Soon, his smile returned.

'There you are.'

1964 Nice Experience

Nephis was walking at the head of the column of tired soldiers, just as pure
and radiant as always. Her silver hair seemed to shine in the rays of diffused
light that fell through the veil of clouds above, and her slender figure was
outlined beautifully by the soft fabric of her white tunic.

Sunny blinked.

'She was not kidding...'

It seemed that Nephis had indeed given up on wearing armor. She would
usually be clad in a suit of lustrous steel, looking valiant and knightly, but
today, the armor was replaced by a light tunic and leather sandals. It was a
much softer look, but also much more eye-catching.

Sunny was not going to complain, though.

The Fire Keepers, who were walking behind her, all looked beaten down by
heat, but Nephis seemed fresh and clean, as if she had not spent many days
traveling across the perilous surface of Godgrave.

He tilted his head in confusion after noticing beads of water in her hair.

'Why is she so clean, though?'

It was a mystery.

The soldiers around Sunny exploded with boisterous cheers, but he just
watched her silently.

Nephis seemed to have sensed his gaze, though, turning her head to look
back.

Her lips twisted into a beautiful smile.

The cheers grew louder.

Suddenly, someone grabbed Sunny by the shoulder and shouted into his ear
with indescribable excitement:

"H—hey! Did you see that?! She smiled at me!"

Immediately, another voice assaulted his other ear:

"What are you talking about, fool?! Why would Lady Changing Star smile
at you? Obviously, she smiled at me!"

Then, there was a third voice:

"No, no, it was definitely me!"

The soldiers were bursting with excitement.

Sunny glanced at them with a grin.

"Yeah. I did see that."

But of course, he knew that they were all wrong.

Sunny looked back to where Nephis was entering the camp.

'She smiled at me.'

It was only for him.

***

After seeing Nephis arrive, Sunny quietly returned to the Ivory Island. Now
that Anvil had gone to oversee the defense of the Vanishing Lake and
Morgan was away to defend Bastion, she was the only member of the royal
family in the main camp of the Sword Army — therefore, it was going to
take a bit of time before she was free to return to her Citadel and rest.

In the meantime, Sunny could prepare to welcome her home.

As if by magic, his fatigue seemed to be gone. Instead, Sunny felt full of
energy — if not for the occasional yawn, no one would have suspected that
he was running on fumes.

'Now, what should I do...'

Sunny longed to spend some romantic time with Nephis, but unfortunately
for him, Godgrave wasn't brimming with romantic opportunities. Added to
that was the fact that he only vaguely knew what people were supposed to
do while courting each other.

The basics were pretty simple... taking walks together, watching movies or
theater plays, dining in fine establishments. Visiting museums, going to
amusement parks — whatever that was — and attending concerts. Any kind
of activity that could allow the couple to spend time together in a pleasant
environment and enjoy nice experiences together.

But there was nowhere pleasant to stroll in Godgrave, no theaters, and no

dining establishments. No museums, no amusement parks, and no concerts.
Most of the time Sunny and Nephis spent together was dedicated to battling
hideous Nightmare Creatures, and the experiences they shared, while... sort
of nice... were not exactly romantic.

He let out a sigh.

'Damnation.'

Sunny was really limited in what he could do to show his affection. He

could make her delicious food, give her thorough massages, and listen to
what she had to say.

Which was fine, but he also felt like he was missing something.

Sunny's eyes suddenly widened, and he slapped himself on the forehead.

'Gifts! I missed gifts... damn it, I'm an idiot!'

He should have made her a Memory, as well. Why didn't he think about it
before?
It was too late now...

Shaking his head in dejection, Sunny raided the Brilliant Emporium's

pantry, then used Shadow Step to teleport to the Ivory Tower and got busy
doing one of the few things he could do — preparing a sumptuous meal for
Nephis.

She would have grown tired of field rations in the past two weeks, and they
had not been eating well during the march to the Vanishing Lake either. So,
she would definitely be happy to taste something delicious.

He chuckled while cooking.

'Come to think of it... I've been known to taste wonderful myself.'

That was not an empty boast. Sunny was quite sure that he was truly
delicious — otherwise, countless Nightmare Creatures would not have tried
to feast on his flesh despite his modest stature and slender build.

If it wasn't because of his refined taste, then why else?

Sunny was so focused on cooking that he did not hear the light steps behind
him. It was only when a familiar voice resounded from behind that he
flinched.

"What are you laughing about?"

Sunny froze for a moment, then slowly turned around.

Nephis was standing behind him, smiling faintly. Up close, she looked even
more enthralling than at the gates of the warcamp, making his heart race.

His heart was racing for another reason, too —because that question could
not have come at the worse time!

Sunny gulped, then answered honestly... the only way he could:

"That, uh... I was just thinking to myself. That I should be pretty delicious...
taste-wise, I mean."
Neph's smile widened a little, and her striking grey eyes glistened in the
sunlight.

She remaining silent for a few moments, and then said in her usual even
tone:

"…I'll be the judge of that."

With that, Nephis placed her hands on Sunny's shoulders, and pulled him
into a deep kiss.

He wrapped his hands around her slender waist, feeling quite pleased with
his answer.

'What can I say? I guess it's true...'

It seemed that they were going to pick up right where they had left off when
Anvil so unceremoniously interrupted them on the shore of the Vanishing
Lake.

Which suited Sunny quite fine.

1965 Slow Burn

Eventually, they ended up sitting at a table across from each other. Nephis
was delighting in the meal Sunny had prepared, savoring it with a satisfied
smile on her captivating lips. She acted calm and composed, but her face
was still a little flushed. Her eyes glistened in the sunlit expanse of the
spacious stone chamber.

Sunny, meanwhile, was savoring watching Nephis eat. He just sat quietly,
following her movements with his gaze, smiling faintly. He felt content, and
his heart was at peace...

Actually, no. It was very much not at peace —instead, it was beating wildly,
and he felt as if his entire body was on fire. It took all his willpower to stay
still, maintain his composure, and keep the deep, carnal hunger from
reaching his eyes.

He really needed a cold shower... a very, very cold shower.

Honestly, it was too cruel. Nephis was inexperienced, and therefore

irresponsible with showing him physical affection... did she really expect
him to just go and cool down after being set on fire so thoroughly by her
touch, her scent, and her lips? Sure, they tasted sweeter that he could
describe — but Sunny was a man, and men were not usually satiated by a
little taste. In fact, he felt quite insatiable at the moment.

Her presence, which naturally inspired and impassioned desires, was not
helping the situation one bit.

Sunny was ready to devour her like a beast. But, he couldn't.

'Curse it. Why did I cultivate this soft and gallant image? I should have
pretended to be a wild and unrestrained shopkeeper instead!'

A quiet sigh escaped from his lips.

'What is this sweet torture?'

Still, he was not in a hurry. He was enjoying the slow burn of their strange
romance very much. The flirting, the tender moments of mundane
closeness, the exhilarating rush of physical passion... he wanted to savor
every second of it.

And, deep down, he was a little reluctant to take the next step already.

Sunny and Nephis were adults, and they both knew what they wanted.
However... he was very aware of how differently they viewed each other.
Nephis was fond of him, sure. She enjoyed his company greatly, and there
was undeniable physical attraction between them.

She might have even begun to develop an emotional connection, learning to

care for and depend on him. She certainly trusted him a great deal.

But at the end of the day, Sunny was still a stranger to Nephis. She had only
known him for a few months, after all... and while some of the experiences
the two of them had shared were quite intense, they could never compare to
the lifetime bond that still dwelled in his heart.

A bond that Nephis did not remember.

So... deep down, Sunny hoped that she would at least learn to value him
more before their relationship evolved into something more meaningful and
irreversible.

Before that happened, he would have to be satisfied with what existed

between them now. It was fine... he had waited to be with her for many
years, and he could wait a little longer. These little sweet moments were
precious enough, and he wasn't going to rush.

As Sunny was thinking about that, Nephis glanced at him with a smile
and... and winked innocently.

His body shivered.

'...No, I take it back.'

What was the point of being slow and steady? Fortune favored the bold! He
had waited for almost ten years, already, so there was no harm in rushing at
all!

If Nephis beckoned him with a finger, he would not hesitate to rush across
the finish line right there and then.

The furniture in Neph's chamber might not survive.

Watching his eyes grow a few shades darker, Nephis chuckled.

"You look really funny."

Sunny remained silent for a few moments, then asked in a slightly hoarse
voice:

"Oh? How so?"

She put a grape into her mouth, enjoyed it thoroughly, and then shrugged
with a smile.

"It's just that... you're so intense, but also can't stop yawning. It is so cute... I
mean, such a contrast!"

She reached for another grape, then seemed to change her mind.

"Have you not gotten any rest lately?"

Sunny blinked a couple of times.

'Have I been yawning?'

He hadn't noticed at all.

Suddenly, he was embarrassed.

'I wasn't yawning... before... right?'

Not just embarrassed, mortified!

Sunny coughed.

"Oh... yeah. To be honest, I haven't slept for a couple of weeks. I've been
busy working on my sorcery ever since the battle at Vanishing Lake. Right!
I created quite a few Memories as practice. Let me show you..."

He was about to summon the Bag of Withholding, but then froze for a few
moments.

"Uh... before that..."

With that, he manifested the gloomy shadow into an avatar.

A second later, a second Sunny was standing near the table, wrapped in
clothes made from shadows. Nephis looked at him in surprise, and at that
moment, the avatar swayed, clutched at his chest with a grimace, and fell to
one knee.

The wound dealt to him by the black arrow was refusing to heal. Usually, a
Saint would be able to recover from a non-lethal injury quite swiftly, but
this one had turned out to be unusually stubborn. Even though it wasn't
getting worse, it wasn't getting any better, either.

Which was a real shame, because Sunny would have been able to weave
much faster with the help of an additional avatar.

"What happened?"

Neph's voice was full of alarm.

Sunny endured the pain, looked up at her with a pale face, and smiled
weakly.

"Well. How do I say this... I visited the Shadow Realm and was shot by an
arrow through the heart?"

Her eyes widened.

Nephis remained still for a short moment, and then pushed the grapes away.
"And you are only telling me this now?!"

As a soft white radiance enveloped her hands, Sunny coughed — this time
because he was drowning in blood, as opposed to out of embarrassment —
and gave her an apologetic smile.

"I just... didn't want... to cause you pain..."

1966 Fragile Flowers

Once again, Sunny felt Neph's gentle touch, and a pleasant warmth
enveloped his body, washing all his pain away.

The relief was palpable and exhilarating, dazing him for a short moment.

Of course, it was darkened by the knowledge that the pain he was liberated
from was at least equal, and very likely much inferior, to the pain Nephis
endured for his sake in return.

As the soft radiance enveloping her hands dimmed and was extinguished,
she supported the avatar and looked at Master Sunless, who was still sitting
at the table.

Her expression was strangely dark for a moment, and then turned stern.

"...No more of that nonsense."

Confused, Sunny raised an eyebrow.

"What do you mean?"

Nephis remained silent for a moment, then sighed deeply and let go of the
avatar.

Patting him on the shoulder, she rose from the floor and walked back to her
chair.

"The sparing me the pain nonsense."

Nephis took a glass filled with fragrant wine, drank deeply from it, and then
carefully placed it down.

"If I were wounded and in pain right in front of you, and you had the power
to stop my suffering, would you have hesitated to help me because of a few
fleeting moments of agony?"
Sunny shook his head.

"No. I mean... seeing someone I care about suffer would have been quite
agonizing, anyway."

Nephis nodded slowly.

"Exactly. So, never hesitate to ask me for help... if you will."

Sunny did not say anything for a while. Then, he dismissed the avatar and
smiled mischievously.

"...Is this your roundabout way of saying that you care about me, Lady
Nephis?"

She scoffed.

"Seriously... how come I am only ever surrounded by such people?"

Nephis sighed and shook her head in resignation.

"Both you and Cassie. She has this infuriating habit of bottling things up,
suffering in silence, and treating me like some kind of fragile flower. I
watched her retreat into herself for four entire years, never admitting what
was wrong..."

Sunny's eyes glistened.

He knew that Cassie could have been very well hearing this conversation,
but could not endure the temptation to share his grievances with a fellow
victim of the blind seer's cagey nature.

"Right? She's so secretive! Like, who in their right mind would keep so
much to themselves? For years! Vital information, too!"

Of course, he knew that Cassie had most likely only been withdrawn in the
last four years because she simply couldn't make Nephis — or anyone,
really, except for Sunny himself —remember what she had to say.
And he knew that Cassie's habit of keeping secrets close to her chest was
because of the trauma of watching her visions become self-fulfilling
prophecies in the most horrible way — Sunny was personally responsible
for cementing that trauma in her heart, after all.

But still. Was there anyone who could pass on the chance to complain about
a friend to someone who knew them as well?

Neph's eyes glistened with fervor.

"Right! She didn't even tell me that you were the Lord of Shadows! So
despicable!"

Sunny opened his mouth to agree, then closed it and coughed.

"Well, that... was my fault, really..."

Nephis looked at him with an appalled expression, but couldn't maintain it

for long and laughed.

"Oh, I know."

Then, she lowered her head and gave him a curious glance.

It seemed like she wanted to ask something, but in the end, she did not.

It was only then that Sunny realized that he had let more than he wanted to
slip. His words implied that he had known Cassie for a long, long time.

Nephis must have noticed that, but decided to remain silent.

By now, she had to know that there was a strange connection between her
and Sunny. But, perhaps because of the conversation they had had once in
Bastion, she never pressed him to share the truth.

Sunny was thankful for that, because he knew that he would not be able to
answer.
...But at the same time, it pained him, because he wanted for her to ask the
question so badly.

It was a strange thing.

Nephis studied his face for a bit, then leaned back and let out a sigh.

Then, she raised an eyebrow.

"So... what was it about visiting the Shadow Realm and being shot through
the heart by an arrow?"

Her eyes narrowed.

"...Who dared?"

Sunny spent some time telling Nephis about the breakthrough he had made
during the battle against Revel, the subsequent experiments he performed,
and his brief visit to the Shadow Realm.

The conversation had taken longer than he expected because he had to be

very careful with his words. Some things, he could share freely. Some, he
had to be very vague about to avoid watching Nephis forget everything he
said.

In the end, though, she understood most of what had happened.

Sunny then proceeded to boast about the Memories he had crafted.

"...And this is the [Green Canteen]. At its core, it is a spatial storage

Memory — but not a simple one! Of course, I had to manage its weight first
and foremost, just like the Bag of Withholding. But that's not all. I was also
able to weave an enchantment that allows it to purify water — it can even
desalinate it, albeit slowly. Now, that created a problem of its own — how
to separate the purified water, the polluted water, and the byproducts of
purification, including salt..."

Noticing that Nephis was looking at him with an amused smile, Sunny
stopped.
"...What?"

She shook her head lightly.

"It's nothing, Sunny. I'm just seeing another one of your many faces. I've
never seen you so enthused about anything, I think."

Sunny's gaze slipped to her lips. He lingered for a moment.

"I'm sure there was something I was more enthused about."

Nephis laughed.

"Oh, yes... I felt your enthusiasm quite clearly..."

Sunny blinked a couple of times.

'What's that supposed to mean?'

Then, he shook his head.

"Well, you're not wrong. We are different, after all, you and I."

Nephis tilted her head a little.

"Different? How so?"

Sunny hesitated for a few moments, looking at the enchanted canteen in his
hand. Then, he offered her a faint smile.

"You were born to a family of warriors. You have inherited swordsmanship

from your father, and wielding a sword is both your passion and your
calling. I, however... only picked up the sword out of necessity. I've gotten
quite good at wielding it, true. But if left alone, I would have much
preferred to do something else. Like running a Memory store, writing
academic papers, or managing a small restaurant."

Nephis seemed surprised by his words.

"Really?"

Once again, it looked like she wanted to ask more. But she held herself
back, sensing that he wouldn't answer.

Sunny tried to ignore the awkward pause and nodded.

"Sure. I am not a very brave and virtuous person by nature. If anything, my

true nature is fifty percent greed and fifty percent hedonism. Oh, and a little
bit of spite."

Neph smiled gently.

"It seemed that you are more remarkable than I thought, then, Master
Sunless. Because it takes much more effort to become who you are now
while going against your nature."

She sighed.

"It even makes me feel insecure about my own swordsmanship. After all, as
you said, it is not only my calling, but also my inheritance."

Hearing that, Sunny froze for a moment.

'Right.'

Her inheritance...

He wanted to spend more time with Nephis, but there was something more
important than their reunion.

Sunny hesitated a little, then dismissed the [Green Canteen] and said
tentatively:

"About that... I think you should talk to Cassie soon. We have discovered
something important. As well as something that might be of great value to
you, and only you."
1967 Lost Together

Nephis had only just returned to the camp, so she did not know about the
memories of Master Orum yet. Sunny selfishly wanted to stay in her
company for a while longer, but it was important for her to meet Cassie.

Not only because of the knowledge about the Sovereigns that Orum's
memories contained, but also because they were a testament to the lives of
her parents.

Broken Sword, Smile of Heaven...

The two of them, who had been the shining stars of humanity once, were
long gone. And they had not left a lot behind for their daughter, who carried
the weight of their legacy alone.

When Sunny spoke, Nephis nodded lightly and stood up. Placing a hand on
his shoulder, she smiled.

"Alright. Wait a little, I'll be back shortly."

With that, she left. Cassie's living quarters were only one floor below her
own, so she did not have to go far... however, Sunny knew that it was going
to take her quite a long time to come back.

Left alone, he sighed quietly.

Suddenly, the fatigue that he had forgotten about returned, making his
eyelids feel heavy.

Sunny remained at the table for a while, picking up a few grapes

absentmindedly. Then, he stood up and walked over to the wide balcony,
looking at the landscape of the army camp far below.

Neph's chambers were spacious and sparsely furnished. The white walls
were unadorned, and there was nowhere to rest except for the bed hidden
beneath a canopy, which fluttered gently in the breeze. Shadows and
sunlight were interspersed with open space, creating a beautiful and
complicated mosaic.

Sunny hesitated for a few moments, then sat down on the bed and closed his
eyes, intending to let them rest for a moment.

Instead, he simply fell asleep.

His tired body desperately needed reprieve, and so did his overtaxed mind.

So, Sunny decided not to wake himself up. Master Sunless had nothing to
do at the moment, anyway. His other two incarnations could pick up the
slack.

The Lord of Shadows was preparing to attack the Song Army from the rear.
Rain's mercurial teacher was busy hiding from the Queen of Worms while
keeping his headstrong disciple safe.

So, he drifted into the soft embrace of sleep.

...After a while, feeling rested and refreshed, he became aware of his

surroundings once again and slowly opened his eyes.

It seemed that he had been asleep for much longer than intended. The air
smelled of coming rain, and the stone chamber was much darker than
before. Considering that there were no nights in Godgrave, it could only
mean that storm clouds were gathering in the sky, casting a deep shadow on
the war camp of the Sword Army.

Sunny was still in the sweet grasp of sleep, a little. The bed was soft and
welcoming, and both his body and mind felt revived. He was in a very good
mood.

'The Hollows are going to be flooded again.

At least the Hollows of the eastern reach of the Collarbone Plain. He did not
know how vast the approaching storm would be.
Turning his head, Sunny noticed that Nephis had come back at some point.
She was sitting on a chair a few meters away, looking at the piece of the
grey sky visible through the arches of the balcony. Her distant eyes were the
same color as the stormy sky, harboring a hint of melancholy.

Watching her, Sunny belatedly realized that he was laying comfortably on

her bed, his head resting on a soft pillow. However, he did not move,
reluctant to disturb her thoughts.

Nevertheless, Nephis must have sensed his gaze —or maybe something
deeper — and turned. Her face remained motionless for a few moments,
and was then illuminated by a faint smile.

"You're awake."

Sunny nodded.

"Yes. Sorry... I just closed my eyes for a moment, and that seemed to have
powered me down."

She shook her head lightly.

"That's alright. It was... sweet, actually. I got to see another of your faces.
You look very different when you sleep."

He raised an eyebrow, hiding his embarrassment.

Sunny had only recently called himself delicious, but really, no one had
ever described him as sweet — at least not that he could remember.

His expression wavered for a moment.

'Wait. Was she watching me sleep?'

He wasn't quite sure how to feel about it.

Not the least because it meant that he felt safe enough here to not even
bother staying aware of his surroundings with the help of the gloomy
shadow.
Glancing at it briefly, Sunny looked back to Nephis and hesitated for a
moment.

"Have you met Cassie?"

She turned to the grey sky again and nodded after a short pause.

"Yes. We learned quite a bit about the Sovereigns. It's... good news."

In the silence that followed, Sunny sighed deeply.

"What about the rest of it?"

Nephis looked up and smiled.

There was a hint of bitterness in her smile. Eventually, she sighed.

"It is something special, isn't it? Cassie's power. I never thought I'd get to
see my mother one day. I mean... how she was before becoming Hollow. I
had only ever heard about how bright and wonderful she was from others."

Nephis lingered for a few moments and added, her voice growing a little
distant:

"My dad, too. I still remember him, a little — it was not like we were
particularly close, though. He was not indifferent or uncaring, just... always
busy. And always bleak, even if he tried to brighten up when around me.
Looking back, he was really obsessed with what he was trying to achieve.
Conquering the Fourth Nightmare, most likely. The apple... doesn't fall far
from the tree, does it?"

She sighed.

"It was really strange, to see them like that. Young, radiant, loving, and
brimming with hope. I had thought... that it would be a solace, to finally
know what they were like. To know that they have not always been just a
pair of ghosts. Especially my mother."

She looked down at her hands and added, her voice sounding wistful:
"But to be honest..."

Nephis sighed.

"...In the end, witnessing them only made me feel lonelier."

Sunny remained silent for a while, not knowing what to say.

Everything he wanted to say to her would be forgotten in a few moments,

never leaving a mark. So, there was no point.

Eventually, he looked at the ceiling.

"...There is this guy that I know. Who became an orphan early on. He was
lonely for a long time, too. But then, he met a girl."

He paused for a few seconds.

"And then, he lost that girl. And then, he found her again, only to lose her
again. Come to think of it, I guess it's wrong to say that he lost her —
rather, it was him who became lost. In any case, what I am trying to say is...
actually, I'm not sure what I'm trying to say."

Sunny smiled.

"I seem to have had some kind of idea when I started talking, but now, I
don't know. You don't have to feel like that, I guess."

Nephis chuckled softly.

Standing up, she walked over to the bed and sat down, looking at Sunny
from above. There was a strange emotion in her eyes... both bitter and
sweet, both powerful and timid.

Perhaps it was longing.

Nephis smiled.

"Well... how does the story end? Was that guy found in the end?"
Sunny answered her smile with one of his own, then shrugged.

"I'm not sure yet. Time will tell..."

She gazed at him deeply, not saying anything.

Slowly, her smile dimmed, replaced by a calm and sober expression.

And the strange emotion in her eyes grew more intense.

Sunny wanted to speak, but before he could, Nephis leaned down and
kissed him deeply. Her lips were like flame, setting his heart on fire.

His hands rose, hovered hesitantly near her waist for a moment, and then
wrapped around her tightly.

As if intending to never let her go. Never let her go again.

Responding to her kiss, Sunny pushed himself toward her, and then gently
pulled her onto the bed.

A flash of lightning illuminated the world, and somewhere in the distance, a

deafening thunderclap shook the world.

However, neither Sunny nor Nephis were aware of the storm, fully and
utterly lost in each other.
1968 Council of Shadows

Somewhere far away, a titanic humerus bone hung far above the desolate
ashen wasteland like a floating mountain chain. It was the right arm of the
dead deity that connected Godgrave to the distant Moonriver Plain, as well
as to the road leading to Ravenheart.

Not long ago, it had been covered by the scarlet jungle. Now, however, the
jungle was gone — the vermilion forest had been obliterated by the
soldiers, and the white slope shone blindingly under the radiant, overcast
sky.

Then, there was movement.

A small bird suddenly fell clumsily from that sky, colliding with the bone
surface at full speed, head-first. The black crow bounced off the ground,
rolled a couple of times, then jumped to its feet and shook its tiny head
dazedly.

Then, it remained motionless for a while before suddenly bursting into a

tide of shadows.

Those shadows surged and formed into the menacing figure of the Lord of
Shadows.

Sunny stared at the horizon with an absent expression.

He was supposed to be preparing an ambush for the supply convoy of the

Song Army right about now.

But... how the hell... was he supposed to...

He was already lucky to have fallen on the arm of the dead deity instead of
plummeting straight into the Sea of Ash. That would have been... would
have been...

What was he thinking about?

Why was he even thinking about anything, to begin with?!

Shaking his head decidedly, Sunny fell backward and crumbled into four
bewildered shadows. He had released control of his incarnation, entirely
unwilling to split his attention between several bodies... right now.

The shadows looked at each other in confusion.

Nobody was controlling them at the moment, so it was unclear what they
were supposed to do.

A few seconds later...

The naughty shadow suddenly threw its arms into the air and performed a
triumphant pirouette. Then, it threw a smug, satisfied look at its
companions.

The haughty shadow would have usually given its sibling a contemptuous
stare, but this time, it charitably held itself back. In fact, it raised his chin
even higher than usual, emanating a very subtle feeling of contentment and
pride.

As if saying:

"Finally. Everything is as it should be."

Haughty was such an august shadow, after all. It could reluctantly approve
of being with a literal princess — their master had done something worthy...
for once...

Even the crazy shadow seemed happy. Or... at least excited. It was usually
hard to tell what the lunatic felt, but today, it seemed to be in a good mood.

Too good of a mood, maybe.

Only the creepy shadow remained his usual self. No, not quite... he looked
very puzzled by the whole situation. And a little bored.

His emotionless stare seemed to convey a silent question:

"I don't really know what is happening, but weren't we supposed to start
killing soon? Hello? Can we concentrate on the important stuff? Hello?!"

Why wasn't anyone listening?

The other three shadows ignored him.

Creepy scratched the back of his head.

Well. It wasn't all bad. At least he was learning new things... about human
anatomy.

In fact.

It was quite fascinating.

***

Eventually — quite some time later — the haughty shadow coalesced into
the fearsome Lord of Shadows once more.

Only... he wasn't so fearsome anymore.

It was hard to maintain one's ferocity while happily humming a tune.

Sunny only realized that he was humming a few minutes later, though, and
forced himself to stop.

However, he neglected to erase the stupid smile from his face. His face was
hidden behind Weaver's Mask, anyway, so no one would know.

The other three shadows were giving him strange looks.

Well, the gazes of the creepy shadow and the crazy shadow were strange.

The naughty guy... was quite obvious and expressive.

Sunny grinned.
"Shut up."

He failed to make his voice sound stern, though.

'What does he even know...'

Looking around, Sunny tried to concentrate and glanced warily at the sky.
Then, he turned into a shadow and glided swiftly across the surface of the
white bone.

He was already running late to his rendezvous...

Some time later, he reached the road built on the dead god's arm by the
soldiers of the Song Army. It was hardly a proper road, really — not even a
Sovereign could have built something substantial on the nearly
indestructible surface of the ancient bone. Instead, logs scavenged from the
annihilated jungle were placed on the ground, held in place by tar.

The supply caravans used this road to pull heavy carts up the slope,
eventually reaching the crossing to the Collarbone Plain. Now that Ki Song
had descended upon Godgrave in person, the Song Army possessed a
Dream Gate of their own, so their supply situation was not as bad as it had
been before.

But there were limits to what a Dream Gate could achieve. First of all, only
cargo from the waking world could be carried through it, most of which was
mundane. Secondly, the supply infrastructure in the waking world was a
glaring vulnerability —after the fall of the House of Night, no one believed
that the war would stay contained in the Dream Realm anymore.

The flow of supplies from the other side could be cut off at any moment, so
both armies were working hard to maintain a logistical connection to their
Domains.

Sunny's job was to disrupt that connection by harassing the Song Army
from the rear.
He had briefly considered destroying the crossing itself, but decided against
it in the end. The crossing was too close to the main camp of the enemy, and
to their sole Citadel in Godgrave, as well. The risk of running into someone
truly powerful — perhaps even the Queen herself — was too great.

So, he had chosen to start with a single caravan.

Those caravans weren't easy targets, either. The supplies were guarded by
both Awakened troops and Ascended officers. From time to time, there
would even be a Saint mixed between the soldiers — Clan Song had plenty
of those to spare, after all.

Worse still, the carts were being pulled by Beastmaster's thralls, and there
were dead pilgrims escorting them.

The Queen had her eyes on the caravans, so Sunny had to be swift about his
attack.

He had already lost the chance to be swift due to... unforeseen

circumstances...

It was worth it, though, of course — without a shadow of a doubt.

Sunny couldn't stop smiling.

'Focus! There is no time to waste.'

He could already see the head of the caravan in the distance...

But, sadly, he really could not focus at all.

1969 Summoned Demon

Master Karna of the Maharana Clan observed the white slopes of the dead
god's arm with a somber expression. The abominable jungle was gone, and
the caravan was far above the Sea of Ash now. The crossing to the
Collarbone Plain was close, so the most dangerous part of the journey was
almost behind them.

Yet still, he felt ill at ease.

Perhaps it was because of the radiant clouds above, or because of how

desolate the landscape was. Perhaps it was for no reason at all, and he was
simply tense because of the heavy responsibility of protecting the caravan.

Although not a grizzled veteran, he was experienced enough to know that

the last stretch of a journey was often the most perilous — for no other
reason than the fact that people tended to abandon caution once the final
destination was already in sight.

His cousin, Saint Dar, had taught him that. We ought to stay alert.

He turned back to look at the caravan. The sight alleviated his worry,
somewhat.

There were more than a hundred heavy wagons being pulled across the
crude road, each loaded with precious supplies. Which meant that there
were at least a hundred ferocious, towering beasts pulling them —
Beastmaster's thralls, most of them at least equal to him in Rank.

Some of the enthralled Nightmare Creatures had come from the various
regions of the Song Domain, some had been subjugated by the Queen's
daughter here in Godgrave. They alone were a fearsome force, making the
caravan akin to a moving fortress.

But the thralls weren't the only ones defending it.

There were Awakened warriors, as well — two hundred of them. There

were a dozen Masters like him. There were also powerful Echoes, and, most
importantly of all...

The pilgrims were escorting the caravan, walking silently at its flanks.
Although the walking dead made Karna unease, they were the heralds of the
Queen. As such, they were the best shield he could have hoped for.

The caravan had already experienced several battles on the way to

Godgrave, obliterating swarms of Nightmare Creatures lured by the smell
of human souls. Each time, the abominations were easily eradicated before
reaching the wagons — so, it was hard to imagine that something could
threaten him and his soldiers.

'We are already so close...'

Unless a demon climbed out of hell to destroy them, they would make it to
the warcamp unscathed.

"Karna!"

The shout of a fellow Master made him flinch and turn around.

He did not need to know what they were warning him about. He could
already see.

Out there in front of them, in the distance, a dark figure was standing on the
sun-bleached surface of the ancient bone. It had appeared out of nowhere
like an apparition, for there had been no one and nothing ahead just a few
short moments ago.

'A... a pilgrim? Was someone sent to meet us?'

Feeling a chill creep up his spine, Karna narrowed his eyes.

He saw a fearsome armor that seemed to be carved out of polished black

onyx. A frightening mask that resembled the face of a fierce demon,
crowned by three twisting horns. The apparition

was motionless, looking down. Its long white hair was moving slightly in
the wind, like strands of a silken spiderweb.
But then, as if sensing Karna's gaze, the demon looked up, revealing two
pools of darkness where the mask's eyes should have been.

Karna trembled.

For a moment, he really believed that his careless thought had summoned a
devil from the depths of hell to feast on their souls.

But then, he forcefully composed himself.

"It... it's him."

The Lord of Shadows.

The sellsword Saint who had faced Dark Dancer Revel and survived.

The news of the battle at Vanishing Lake had spread through the Song
Army swiftly. Although the daughters of the Queen had ultimately failed to
capture the Citadel, they still managed to escape unscathed after killing
seven Saints of the Sword Domain.

Karna wasn't particularly happy to know that those great warriors had
perished, but he knew that it was a triumphant victory that would save the
lives of countless soldiers like him in the future.

Regardless, one of the most extraordinary details about the battle of

Vanishing Lakes was the clash between the Lightslayer and the Lord of
Shadows. He had not shown his strength before, but now, there was no one
in Godgrave who did not know about it, and was not wary of him.

Although very few people in the Song Domain had ever seen him, rumors
about the sinister fiend hired by the wicked King of Swords were both
abundant and frightening.

Some said that he was a madman whose Flaw demanded that he revel in
bloodshed and slaughter. Some said that he was the last surviving member
of a fallen clan, sworn to vengeance against all of humanity. Some said that
he was a loathsome killer who had escaped to the Dream Realm many years
ago to save himself from being pursued by the Soul Reaper.
Some even said that he was no human at all, but instead a Nightmare
Creature masquerading as one. The original vessel of the Skinwalker,
perhaps, or of something even more terrifying.

In any case, all the rumors agreed on one thing —that the Lord of Shadows
was immensely powerful and utterly ruthless.

Karna gritted his teeth.

Still... he was merely one man.

Even if the Lord of Shadows was a Saint, he was facing an entire army
alone. There were two hundred Awakened warriors, two cohorts of Masters,
and a hundred enthralled Nightmare Creatures — many of them of the
Corrupted Rank — facing him.

There were also the pilgrims.

No matter how powerful, one man could not defeat an army.

Turning to his comrades, Karna opened his mouth, wanting to bolster their
spirits and give the command to attack...

But then, he froze.

Something was wrong about the world. Something was terribly, terribly
wrong.

Looking down, he felt icy claws grasp his heart.

'...What?'

The closest person to him was a fellow Master — a quiet woman who was a
retainer of the royal clan. Everything about her was familiar, except for one
thing.

For some reason, the woman had two shadows. Karna had two shadows, as
well.
He stared at the shadows in horror, trying to understand where the extra
ones had come from, and what their appearance meant.

Then, he saw two crimson flames igniting in the depths of his own shadow.

...That was the last thing Karna saw.

Because in the next moment, the world was suddenly consumed by

impenetrable darkness.
1970 Fear of Shadows

Darkness had descended upon Godgrave, where the sun never set. Karna
was both startled and, despite not wanting to admit it, scared. He had in his
possession a Memory that granted him a night vision akin to that of a
nocturnal predator, and yet, he suddenly found himself blind.

Which meant that the darkness surrounding him was not simply a vast
shadow, but true darkness instead.

He could not see anything... but he could hear. There were plenty of sounds.

The roars of the enthralled Nightmare Creatures, the screaming human

voices, the clangor of metal, the nauseating crunching of splitting flesh. It
all happened in an instant, turning the peaceful melody of creaking wheels
into a deafening clamor of battle.

'How can he...'

But there was no time to guess.

Snarling, Karna activated his Awakened Ability. In the next moment, he

switched places with an Awakened warrior who had been guarding a wagon
a few dozen meters behind.

There was still only darkness, so Karna switched places with another
soldier, moving even further back.

'Come on, come on...'

Finally, he escaped into the light.

In front of him, the front of the caravan was swallowed by a pool of

darkness. Behind him was chaos — everyone was startled by the
unexpected attack, not knowing what was going on.

There was something different about the state of the caravan, as well.
Apart from those unfortunate souls caught in the pool of true darkness, the
rest of the soldiers were alright. So were the thralls of Beastmaster.

However, the pilgrims — each and every one of them —were gone,
replaced by tall bonfires. Someone, or something, had set them all aflame in
these few short moments.

Karna paled a little and jumped onto the wagon, looking ahead, in the
direction where the Lord of Shadows had been standing before.

He saw the sinister Saint almost instantly.

The Lord of Shadows was calmly walking down the bone slope, his steps
graceful and unhurried. The back of a black odachi rested on his shoulder,
and his white hair was fluttering in the wind.

There were still several hundred meters separating him from the caravan,
but the madman was indeed intending to face them all alone.

Karna's eyes narrowed.

If so... he was going to oblige.

Raising his bow, he put some strength into his voice and bellowed:

"If s the Lord of Shadows! Brothers, with me... attack!"

And they did.

The warriors surged forward, the wagon drivers cut the Nightmare
Creatures loose, allowing them to rush at the Valor's hired fiend in a
murderous frenzy. Arrows streaked across the sky, and scores of Aspect
Abilities were unleashed.

The sight of it was daunting.

However, in the next moment, Karna felt his mouth turning dry.
It was because countless shadows suddenly moved all around them, coming
alive.

The light of day seemed dimmer now, the darkness deeper.

Some of the shadows shot from the ground, turning into needle-sharp spikes
— they pierced the bodies of Beastmaster's thralls. Some turned into black
chains that slithered across the ground, binding soldiers and pulling them
down.

Some even turned into black hands, each with seven fingers that ended in
sharp claws, blocking the Aspect Abilities.

Blood spilled on the white bone, a terrible cacophony of screams permeated

the air, and several wagons were split apart by the unleashed violence.

Karna growled.

"Curse you!"

A Saint was a powerful existence, but not an invulnerable one. They still
bled like humans, and could be killed by humans.

All it would take was one sword that struck true, one arrow that bypassed
the enemy's onyx armor...

Nocking an arrow on the string of his bow, Karna activated both its
enchantment and his Ascended Ability, then drew it and took aim.

'Come on!'

He was far inferior to Saint Dar in terms of archery. But he was still better
and far more deadly than almost any other archer out there. And so...

Karna let his arrow loose.

It shot forward at terrible speed... and disappeared.

A split second later, though, it emerged out of nowhere mere meters away
from the Lord of Shadows, ready to plunge into the eye of his fierce mask a
split second later.

Its instantaneous arrival was both bizarre and insidious, and it left the
enemy no time to react.

However...

Even though the Lord of Shadow could not have predicted what would
happen, and had only a fraction of a second to move, he still did.

In the next moment, his hand shot upward and caught Karna's arrow,
holding it a few centimeters away from his eye.

Karna staggered back.

'I—impossible...'

But a heartbeat later, the Lord of Shadows was suddenly standing in front of
him.

'He...'

Karna's eyes widened.

He had followed the arrow back. Had he... stolen Karna's Ascended Ability?

Just like he had stolen Princess Revel's true darkness.

"He's here! Fight!"

The black odachi moved.

In the next few minutes, Karna witnessed a scene of pure horror.

The Lord of Shadows did not just look like a fiend... he was a fiend. The
sinister Saint moved with the grace of a dancer and the ruthless precision of
a butcher, his sword never resting and never failing to find its target. His
white hair fluttered in the wind like ghostly silk.

The attacks of the Awakened warriors either missed him entirely or were
deflected by the polished surface of the onyx armor, not leaving even a
scratch on it. The Nightmare Creatures —terrifying monsters that had once
threatened the lives of the champions of the Song Army — fell to the
ground one after another, their bodies severed and horribly mangled by the
black sword.

The Lord of Shadows moved in the storm of blood like an omen of death,
the gaze of his fierce mask remaining utterly indifferent, utterly cold...
utterly devoid of mercy.

But the demon was not without emotion.

What frightened Karna the most... was that he could faintly hear the sinister
Saint humming an upbeat tune as he slaughtered Corrupted abominations
and bathed in their blood.

The sick bastard... was enjoying the harrowing massacre.

Karna had been wrong.

That thing could not be a human.

It had to not be a human — otherwise, there would be nothing sane left in

the world.

At some point, the Lord of Shadows seemed to have grown tired of

pretending to be a person and shed his human disguise, turning into a
towering devil with four mighty arms and a frightening crown of horns. His
already terrifying strength exploded, and he continued his macabre dance of
death, tearing a path of carnage and destruction across the caravan.

Nothing could stop him.

One second, he was in one place, gruesomely tearing a powerful Nightmare

Creature apart. Next second, he was somehow a hundred meters away,
throwing a Master to the ground with a heavy blow of his onyx gauntlet.

And throughout all of this, the darkness continued to flow. The shadows
continued to move. The black chains rattled as they imprisoned their prey,
and blood flowed like a river.

Karna was... appalled.

But his indignation did not save him.

In the end, his enchanted bow was cut in half, his sword was shattered, and
he was thrown to his knees, the black chains binding his limbs.

The battle was over.

Shaking, Karna looked around.

The darkness was gone. The burning pilgrims had turned to ash. The thralls
of Beastmaster were all eviscerated, laying in bloody piles on the ground.
The Awakened warriors were all bound by chains, many of them
unconscious...

They were utterly defeated.

And the lone creature that had defeated them had not even shed a single
drop of blood.

Karna let out a desperate growl.

"Curse you! Curse you, you demon!"

His voice was the only thing breaking the silence, apart from the groans of
the wounded soldiers.

No... there was another sound.

The Lord of Shadows was still humming joyfully, as if today was the best
day of his life.
The terrifying demon of darkness had assumed his human form once again,
observing the battlefield with a strange sense of satisfaction, like a
demented artist looking at a painted canvas.

But then...

Something was not right.

Karna looked around once more, trying to understand where the sense of
incongruity he felt had come from.

After a while, a slight shudder ran through his body.

The pilgrims had been destroyed, and the thralls had been slaughtered.
However, the humans...

Many were wounded, and many were bleeding. However, their wounds
were shallow, and their bleeding was light.

And none of them were dead.

They were knocked out, bound by the black

chains, and immobilized. But they were alive.

Karna gasped, feeling both relieved and suffocated. He felt bitter.

Because he knew...

That keeping an enemy alive in a battle was much harder than killing them.
The Lord of Shadows, that fiend... had not even shown them his true power.
His true malevolence, his true ability to sow death were still unknown.

How could that be?

How had Princess Revel survived meeting this horror?

"Why..."
His whisper was quiet, but the dark apparition seemed to have heard him.

The Lord of Shadow turned the chilling gaze of his lightless eyes in Karna's
direction. Knowing that there was no sense in trying to avoid attention
anymore, Karna gritted his teeth.

"Why did you spare us?!"

The fiend stared at him silently for a while, then chuckled.

His voice was cold and arrogant:

"...Because Changing Star asked me to show mercy today.."

The Lord of Shadow grew quiet for a moment, then let out a regretful sigh.

"If s such a shame. Usually, I love nothing more than slaying humans. How
unfortunate... ah, I'm in a terrible mood."

With that, he continued to hum his lively tune and walked away.

Karna heard terrifying sounds coming from somewhere behind, but he

could not turn around. It was as if something enormous was feasting,
scraping the ancient bones with countless metal feet as it moved.

After some time — and eternity, perhaps — the sounds grew quiet.

Then, the black chains binding him dissolved into a tide of shadows.

He was free.

Standing up, Karna turned and looked around.

All around him, the wounded soldiers were swaying as they rose from the
ground.

But the caravan itself was gone. The wagons had disappeared without a
trace, most likely utterly destroyed and swallowed by some abominable
being.
All that remained were the corpses of the slain Nightmare Creatures, and
the blood painting the surface of Godgrave red.

And fear.

Fear of meeting the Lord of Shadows on a day when that dreadful demon
was not held back by the mercy of Lady Changing Star.
1971 Rumor Mill

Rain was stirred awake by the blaring of a war horn. Opening her eyes to a
stark darkness, she sighed and pulled a piece of cloth off her face —the
cloth was nothing more than one of her shirts rolled to resemble a blindfold,
which she used to block out the light.

Almost every soldier in Godgrave had been forced to seek out darkness in
some way or another. The perpetual radiance of the murderous sky was both
oppressive and a source of constant fear, but most of all, it was exhausting.
It was bright almost everywhere one went, which made sleep elusive. So,
they had learned ways to cope with the hateful absence of darkness and
night.

Rain's way was on the primitive side, but it still let her sleep in peace.
Which was why she was quite unhappy to have been awoken so early.

'What the hell is going on...'

She would have been hurriedly summoning her battle Memories before, but
now that the Queen was with them, the camp of the Song Army was much
safer. It was highly unlikely that there was immediate danger, so Rain took
her time.

Yawning, she stretched, then summoned the Puppeteer's Shroud and

climbed out of her tent as soon as the soft grey fabric covered her pale skin.
A wave of heat assaulted her outside, and Rain saw that the camp was
boiling with strange activity.

The soldiers were rushing, the hideous thralls were being saddled, and the
pilgrims were moving silently between the tents. Far in the distance, the
main gates of the camp were opening slowly.

Rain studied the commotion somberly.

"Good morning."
Turning around, she saw Tamar standing with her arms crossed a few steps
away. Beside her, Ray and Fleur were starting a fire to prepare food.

Rain raised an eyebrow.

"Is it morning?"

The young Legacy shrugged.

"I might as well be. Does it matter?"

Rain failed to suppress another yawn and shook her head.

Walking to the fire pit, she asked:

"What is going on?"

Ray, who had been trying to fire up the kindling with a mundane flint,
looked up at her in surprise.

"You haven't heard?"

Rain stared at him for a moment, then took the flint from his hands and
ignited the kindling on the first try.

"How would I have heard anything while asleep?"

Everything had been fine yesterday.

A corner of Tamar's mouth curled upward a little. She took a seat near the
fire and summoned a spacial storage Memory... which had been the source
of endless envy for Rain ever since the Legacy girl received it from the
Saint of Sorrow.

Taking out their provisions and a can of powdered coffee — another luxury
item — Tamar handed them to Fleur and spoke:

"The news reached the camp a few hours ago —there was another clash
with the forces of the Sword Domain. Congratulations. You slept through
the second human battle of this war."

Rain froze for a moment, feeling a cold shiver travel down her spine. Her
mood was instantly spoiled.

She sighed.

"Oh yeah? Was it on the crossing to the Breastbone Reach?"

That was where the first major battleground of the Realm War would be,
and where the Seventh Legion would be marching for in a few days.

Tamar slowly shook her head, her expression turning a bit dark.

"No. It happened near the crossing from the Right Arm to the Collarbone
Plain, behind us. A supply caravan was attacked... by the Lord of Shadows."

Now that was concerning news.

Rain threw a sidelong glance at her shadow, wondering how her teacher felt
about someone wielding a similar authority launching an attack on the Song
Army.

There was a lot of talk about the Lord of Shadows in the camp these days,
painting him to be some kind of a monster. Well, it wasn't that uncalled-for
— after all, he had crossed blades with Princess Revel and lived to tell the
tale.

No one would have been surprised if someone like Changing Star or

Morgan of Valor had done the same, but for an entirely unknown Saint to
prove himself capable of facing the First Princess in battle was a disturbing
revelation. Added to the sinister reputation and mysterious nature of the
Lord of Shadows, wild rumors about him were bound to spread.

The situation was not helped by the fact that very few people in the Song
camp had ever seen him, like her cohort members had.

Rain suddenly felt tense.

"...How did the Lord of Shadows and his troops manage to reach our rear
without being noticed?"

Ray shivered.

"That's the thing. There were no troops... the madman attacked the caravan
alone."

The young man seemed stuck somewhere between terror and awe.

"And it wasn't a harassment attack, either. He actually obliterated the entire

caravan. Alone."

Rain froze.

She had seen these supply caravans entering the camp. They were not an
easy target... far from it, actually. Each was guarded by hundreds of
Awakened warriors, several cohorts of Masters, scores of powerful thralls
— many of them of the Corrupted Rank — and now escorted by the
Queen's pilgrims.

One Saint obliterated them all? How was that possible?

...Were the rumors about the Lord of Shadows not as exaggerated as she had
thought?

Both the rumors about his frightening power and the rumors about him
being a monster.

Fleur placed a coffee pot on the fire and sighed.

"That is not the strangest part, though."

Rain glanced at her.

"It isn't?"

The delicate girl nodded, her expression strangely similar to one of relief.
"The Lord of Shadow did not just destroy the caravan. For some reason, he
spared every human guarding it. He killed the thralls and the pilgrims, but
left the soldiers alive."

Tamar's subtle smile widened a little.

"Don't we know the reason? He said it himself. It was because Lady

Changing Star had asked him to be merciful."

She seemed strangely cheerful despite the slap dealt to the Song Army.

Rain, meanwhile, was a little dumbfounded.

She could easily believe that Lady Nephis had asked the sellsword Saint to
be merciful. She could even believe that the Lord of Shadows would
actually listen to her...

But subduing so many warriors? Not killing them, but defeating them
without taking a single life?

Just how terrifying did one's power have to be to achieve a feat like that?

She felt both disturbed and relieved. Relieved because her fellow soldiers
had been spared, and disturbed because the nebulous figure of the Lord of
Shadows seemed even more frightening now.

What would happen on the day the enemy decided not to stay his blade?

Ray cursed quietly.

"I told you all that he was a scary bastard. The first time I saw him... gods.
He said... Dreamer Ray, I've decided not to kill you! As if killing me was
the default option! If not for Lady Nephis, I would have probably died right
there and then."

Fleur looked at him scornfully.

"But he saved our lives, in the end. Show some gratitude."

Ray spared her an apologetic smile.

Tamar sighed, took the cup of fragrant coffee that Fleur offered her, and
said:

"In any case, the remnants of the caravan are still on the Right Arm. They
are alive, but many are wounded — so, the army is sending a rescue force
to bring them back. We'll know more once they reach the camp."

Then, her expression changed, and she looked around in confusion.

"But... what was that noise?"

Rain scratched the back of her head, receiving her own cup of coffee.

"What noise? I didn't hear anything."

She was lying through her teeth, though.

She did hear it.

'What the hell?!'

Tamar frowned.

"I am sure I heard something. Sounded like... humming?"

1972 Private Conversation

Rain took a sip of coffee, hiding her face behind the tin cup.

She had heard it too!

After all, the humming had come from her own shadow.

'What is this fool doing?!'

Feeling pins and needles, she gulped down the scalding coffee and forced
out a smile.

"Well, anyway. I'll go take a walk... I mean, visit the baths. Thank you
kindly, Fleur, the coffee was delicious!"

She had to get away from her companions as quickly as possible, in case
her teacher was planning to start whistling or actually break into a song.

Rain was truly flabbergasted. He had always been flawlessly cautious when
around other people... what could have made him commit such a ridiculous
mistake?

Putting the cup down, she stood up, stretched one more time, and headed
away from their small cluster of tents.

"Wait, Rani! Aren't you going to eat breakfast?"

Rain waved a hand and answered Tamar in a carefree tone:

"Later! I'm not very hungry."

'Damnation...'

She needed to find somewhere private to talk to her teacher. Sadly, privacy
was not very common in the crowded camp of the Song Army... still, she
knew a place or two.
In fact, many soldiers did, since everyone needed privacy from time to time,
for one reason or another — some as innocent as simply wanting to be
alone, some a bit more salacious.

The place Rain had chosen was situated at the back of a large warehouse
where the building materials were stored, not far from the towering Dream
Gate. Now that the walls of the camp had been built, and the Queen was
here, making damaging them a tall task for the Nightmare Creatures
inhabiting Godgrave, very few people visited the warehouse, let alone
walked around it.

She knew this place well.

Squeezing into a narrow space between the wall of the warehouse and a
neat pile of stone slabs unloaded behind it, she leaned her back against one
of them and closed her eyes for a moment.

Then, she looked at her shadow angrily and hissed:

"Hey! What was that?!"

Her shadow remained silent for a bit.

Then, it answered in an absentminded tone:

"Huh? What was what?"

Rain opened her mouth, losing the ability to talk for a second.

"The humming! Why the hell were you humming before?"

A second shadow emerged from her own and scratched the back of its head.

"...Was I humming? Oh... sorry. It must have been because I'm in a really
good mood."

'He finally lost what little remained of his mind!'

Rain didn't even know what to say.

Her teacher, meanwhile, assumed a human form, leaning on the wall of the
warehouse across from her. He did indeed seem to be in a strangely good
mood, with a subtle smile on his lips and a distant look in his eyes.

Rain had not seen him in the flesh for a long time, so being face-to-face
once again warmed her heart. Still, she tried to maintain a stern expression.

He couldn't be so careless again!

Her teacher, meanwhile, gave her a long look.

"Right. Since we are already here, I actually wanted to talk to you about
something."

Rain raised an eyebrow.

"Oh? Well... good."

He smiled.

"What, did you miss me?"

She raised her chin a little and looked at him with disdain.

"As if!"

...That was a lie. She had, indeed, missed him quite a bit. They had not seen
each other in a long while, after all.

Her teacher laughed.

"How heartless. So, you didn't really want to see me..."

He let out a sigh and shook his head sadly.

"And here I was, all excited to show you all the wonderful new Memories I
prepared for you..."
Rain eyes glistened. Taking a step forward, she grabbed his arm and looked
at him with an expression of utter devotion.

"Teacher! Your student missed you so much! My heart ached so terribly at

being unable to see you that I couldn't sleep at all... so I just counted days
and hours, finding solace in the memories of how benevolent and amazing
you are..."

He stared at her for a second, then laughed.

"That's better."

Then, he fell silent.

Rain waited for a few moments.

And for a few moments more.

Eventually, she spoke:

"Teacher... so, about those Memories?"

He grinned.

"Sure, I'll give it to you. But... not here. There's something else we need to
do, so let's go somewhere more private!"

Rain wanted to say that there weren't really any places more secluded than
this one in the army camp, and that going outside unnoticed would not be
easy...

But at that moment, her teacher fell into the shadows.

And pulled her with him.

A moment later, they were somewhere else, surrounded by darkness and the
damp, suffocating smell of the jungle.
Everywhere around them, the vermilion jungle sprawled. Rain's nostrils
were assaulted by countless smells, and her ears were assaulted by
countless sounds. The rustle of leaves, the hum of abominable insects, the
distant footsteps of dreadful predators...

They were in the middle of the jungle, surrounded by darkness. That could
only mean one thing...

Rain's eyes widened, and she suddenly felt cold. Her hair stood on end.

"Teacher! Did... did you bring me to the Hollows?!"

Of course, she had kept her voice to a barely audible whisper.

He just nodded calmly, as if it was not even worthy of being mentioned.

"Yes. But don't worry... there are no Cursed Nightmare Creatures nearby.
Only the Great Ones."

Rain shuddered.

'You bastard! What do you mean, "only" the Great Ones?!'

Pulling her along, her teacher walked between the ancient trees and entered
a small clearing. There... somehow... Rain saw a familiar brick cottage.

She was too dazed to even bother wondering what it was doing in the
Hollows.

This time, she was led to a back door — Rain was pretty sure that it had not
existed the last time she saw the cottage, but now, it was undeniably there.

Inside was a vast chamber filled with darkness. And in the middle of that
darkness... lay a towering mountain of items.

There were pieces of broken wagons, piles of precious mystical materials,

bags of flour and rice, crates of arrows with arrowheads forged from
sorcerous steel, barrels filled with unknown liquids, slabs of building
stone... and so much more.
There was a very familiar symbol burned into the wooden crates, as well.

...The crest of the Royal Clan Song.

Rain froze.

Raising a shaking hand, she pointed at the mountain of supplies and asked
in a small voice:

"Teacher... w—what is that?"

But she knew what it was. It was the supply caravan of the Song Army...
what was left of it. He glanced at the supplies briefly and shrugged.

"That? The supplies meant for the Song Army, of course."

Rain nodded.

'Right.'

As if that explained anything!

She struggled to speak for a moment.

"But what are they doing here?"

Her teacher sighed.

"Well, I thought that it would be a real shame to just burn them all or toss
them into the Sea of Ash. So, I commandeered them instead. Oh, but don't
tell anyone... officially, all these supplies were destroyed..."

Feeling like she was losing her mind, Rain took a deep breath, and then
whispred loudly:

"But why do you have them?! It was the Lord of Shadows who attacked the
caravan! That scary bastard!"

The monster whom even Princess Revel couldn't defeat.

Her teacher stared at Rain with a surprised expression.

Then, he scratched his nose.

"…Wait, you really didn't know?"

What was she supposed to know?! Rain silently shook her head.

He coughed.

"It's because I am the Lord of Shadows!"

Noticing Rain's dumbfounded expression, her teacher smiled pleasantly.

"Just think about it... anyone claiming to be the Lord of Shadow would be
claiming to be the lord of me. And even if there was a fool crazy enough to
do something like that, I would have probably sent them to see the Shadow
Realm real quick... to dissuade them…"
1973. Me, Myself, and I

For a while, there was nothing but silence in the dark hall.

Then, there was more silence.

Rain stared at her teacher with wide eyes.

‘What did he just say?’

It seemed that she imagined that her teacher claiming to be the Lord of
Shadows…

The Lord of Shadows - the mysterious Saint of Godgrave, the sinister

sellsword who had offered his blade to the King of Valor, faced Princess
Revel in the battle at Vanishing Lake, and decimated a supply caravan of
the Song Army alone, sparing the lives of two hundred Awakened and
Ascended warriors at Changing Star's behest.

That Lord of Shadows.

‘Wait…’

The Lord of Shadows who had saved the lives of Tamar, Ray, and Fleur!

…At Changing Star's behest.

The situation was so shocking that Rain was struggling to form a single
cohesive though, but despite all its seriousness, an entirely frivolous
memory surfaced in her mind instead of something important.

It was one of her teacher's preposterous rants:

“Do you know Princess Nephis? Changing Star of the Immortal Flame
clan? I was practically her boyfriend!”

Rain almost swayed.

‘No… no, wait!’

She pierced her teacher with an intense gaze, momentarily forgetting even
about the sweet Memories he had promised to give her.

“Teacher… you… you really are the Lord of Shadows?”

The bastard had started humming again, at some point.

Hearing her, he looked at her and smiled.

“Sure. Now can we move on to…”

Rain did not let him finish.

“No! We absolutely cannot move on! What the… how… I mean, why… no,
what do you mean, you're the Lord of Shadows?! He's all the way in the
camp of the Sword Army! When he was fighting Princess Revel, you were
with me! When he was saving Tamar, you were helping me track down the
Huntsman! How does that make any sense?! What, you can be in two places
at the same time? Following me around and simultaneously acting as the
Lord of Shadows ?”

Her teacher gave her a confused look.

“What? Of course not…”

Rain let out a relieved sign.

‘Thank the gods! It was another one of his preposterous lies.’

However, she celebrated too early. Because her teacher wasn't done talking.

“I can be in seven places at the same time. Actually, I am also a Knight

Commander of Clan Valor and the Memory Purveyor of the Ivory Island.
Oh… and I also run a small restaurant in Bastion. It's quite popular!”

Rain just started at him with dumbfounded expression.

Her teacher looked at her with concern and smiled.

“Do you want to sit down?”

She nodded slowly.

“Yeah.”

A moment later, specks of darkness swirled in the air and formed into an
opulent wooden chair. Her teacher moved it caringly to stand just behind
Rain, and she lowered herself onto the seat.

‘Aaa!’

So… her teacher could be in seven places at the same time.

She had to repeat it several times mentally for the meaning of this words to
sink in.

Rain covered her face with a palm.

‘Let’s think about it…’

Something like that was unheard of… but not really impossible. After all,
there were all kinds of Aspects in the world, and all kinds of unnatural
powers wielded by the Nightmare Creatures. Anything was possible!

Actually, it even made a lot of sense.

She had long noted how similar her teacher and the Lord of Shadows
seemed. It was just that she could not have concluded that they were one
and the same without this key piece of information. Assuming that a person
could exist in several places at the same time would have been quite an
unreasonable leap of logic, after all.

Who could have guessed that her closest companion was also a complete
stranger... a sinister Saint serving the King of Swords, no less?
And what was that, had he mentioned something about running a restaurant
in Bastion?!

‘A restaurant?!’

Somehow, that last detail rattled her mind more than the rest of what he had
said.

No, that was not important right now.

Rain could reluctantly accept that her teacher possessed the power to live
several lives at the same time. But…

She lowered her hand and looked at him

“Teacher… what the hell!”

He scratched back of his head.

“Huh? What are you angry about this time?”

Rain's eyes narrowed.

"If you are really the Lord of Shadow, one of the most fearsome champions
of the Sword Army... then why the hell did you let me join the Song Army?!
Did it not occur to you that being on the different sides of this damned war
might pose a bit of a problem for us?!”

He looked at her with a strange expression.

"What do you mean? Of course, it did! Have you forgotten that I tried to
dissuade you? But no, you just had to be all moral and righteous... I can't
just sit on the sidelines! These are the people I know, and they will be the
ones who suffer! I can't step back and do nothing! Those were your words...
do you even know how loudly I was cursing on the inside while going on
about how you are joining the war?"

Rain's eye twitched.

"Well... when you put it like that..."

Her teacher scoffed.

"But I couldn't very well stomp on your principles, so I kept quiet. Well, it
doesn't matter that much, anyway. Who says that you and me being on
different sides will become a problem? Me and me are on different sides as
well, and I'm not worried."

Hearing that last sentence, Rain felt a strong headache.

As if it made sense!

It was too bizarre.

Not only had her teacher been living several lives at the same time, but one
of his incarnations was even a general of the opposing army... the most
feared general of them all! The very same sinister Saint who had just
attacked the supply caravan of Song.

The incriminating evidence was right here an entire mountain of stolen...

commandeered, as he had called it... supplies.

And he had not even taken them in the name of the Sword Army. He had
just hoarded them for himself!

Her eyes trembled.

‘My teacher... is a bandit! He's a shameless, flagrant highwayman!’

But then again, that one actually wasn't that surprising. Quite the opposite,
really.

She could believe it easily. That sounded exactly like something her teacher
would do...

Rain took a deep breath.

‘So…’
Her teacher was pretending to be a sellsword Saint who had been hired by
the King of Swords. He was also the Knight Commander of the Great Clan
Valor. He was also the Memory Purveyor - whatever that meant - of the
Ivory Island, which was Changing Star's own Citadel.

And he was a master chef somewhere in Bastion on top of that!

‘Right.’

It was going to take her some time to come to terms with these facts.

‘Just as expected from a dark deity.’

No... was he really a dark deity?

Suddenly, Rain came to realize that she knew very little about her teacher,
despite spending almost every day of these past four years in his company.

She took a deep breath and looked at him soberly.

After hesitating for a while, Rain asked:

"Teacher... who are you, really?”

1974. Lost Time

Rain hesitated, trying to formulate her question better.

"I mean... are you a human? A spirit? Some strange apparition that enjoys
cooking, terrifying vast armies of Awakened, and educating young
maidens? And don't you dare say that you are just a shadow! What does that
even mean?"

Her teacher stared at her for a few moments.

"Well... a shadow is the dark area that appears when an object blocks the
source of light..."

Rain clenched her fists.

"That's not what I was asking!”

He laughed, then commanded the shadows to rise from the floor and
manifest into another - much less comfortable, from the looks of it - chair.

Sitting down, her teacher shrugged.

"What are you even talking about? I am just a human Saint."

Rain shook her head energetically.

"No! I've met Saints, and there are no human Saints like you. You never
sleep, never eat, live in the shadows, and go around slaying Skinwalker
vessels as if they were children. You even know how to guide a person to
Awakening without infecting them with the Spell. And that is just one-
seventh of you!"

He hesitated for a little while.

"Well, alright. I'm not... just... a human Saint. I am quite special, as far as
human Saints go."
Leaning back, he smiled.

"In fact, there is no one else like me. As far as I know, there are two other
Transcendent humans who can rival my power. However, I am unique even
among them... because I am not a carrier of the Nightmare Spell anymore."

Rain blinked.

'A Saint... who is not a carrier of the Nightmare Spell?'

Anymore?

How was that possible?

Noticing her confused expression, her teacher chuckled.

"It's a long story - a story that spans thousands of years, actually, so forgive
me if I don't go into detail. Suffice it to say, I met a very loathsome Cursed
Terror in my Third Nightmare... and here I am."

He hesitated, and then added.

"My original body is someplace else. Unlike this incarnation, it does eat,
sleep, and perform all the things that humans tend to do. The version of me
that has been following you around, meanwhile, is one of my shadows. That
is why I sometimes seem a bit weird, compared to normal humans."

Rain studied him silently.

'So that's how it is!'

She felt satisfied, because things were finally starting to make sense…

But, strangely enough... she also felt a little betrayed. Because her teacher
had an entire other life - several of them, actually - that she knew nothing
about.

Suddenly, something occurred to her.

"Teacher... if you are a human, then what is your name?"

He coughed.

"My name? Huh... well, if you must know, my name is Sunless. But people
usually call me Sunny."

Rain stared at her for a few moments.

Then, she leaned back and laughed.

The laughter came on its own, and although she had tried, she failed to
contain it.

"Oh... oh, sorry! It's just funny. Because people used to call me Rainy."

Sunny and Rainy... they were quite a pair, weren't they?

'No... I just can't call Teacher that way!'

Rain felt a strange warmth spread in her chest after finally learning his
name. But, at the same time, it was very strange, to think about calling her
teacher by such a mundane and human name she could at least imagine
calling him Sunless, but "Sunny"...

'Nope. No way!'

Even if he really was a human, he had not deserved to be treated like one!

After everything he had put her through…

Rain spend some time in silence, digesting the earth - shattering revelations
that had befallen her out of nowhere.

'He's the damn Lord of Shadows!'

Eventually, another thought suddenly flashed in her mind, and her

expression changed.
'We are quite a pair?'

Now that she knew about the many incarnations of her teacher, she could
understand why he was ruling a Citadel in Godgrave and serving the King
of Swords. She could also understand why he had positioned himself close
to Lady Nephis.

She could even understand why he would run a restaurant, somewhat.

In fact, out of all the lives her teacher had mentioned, only one wasn't
making any sense.

This one. The life in which he followed a random mundane girl around,
taught her how to survive and thrive in the dire world, and guided her on
the Path of Ascension.

Why was this tremendously powerful Saint, someone who clearly aimed to
exert influence on the flow of history, was wasting his time with her?

Rain was no one special. She was hardworking and talented, yes, but so
were countless other people.

In fact...

Hadn't their first ever encounter been strange, to begin with?

Because even back then, in the nameless convenience store in NQSC, her
teacher had already known her name.

Rain raised her head and looked at him intently.

"Teacher..."

He smiled faintly.

"Yes? Are you ready to take a look at those Memories? I've worked really
hard on them, you know!"
Usually, Rain would have been mesmerized by the promise of receiving
new Memories, but today, she did not even spare them a second thought.

Instead, she asked:

"Why did you offer to teach me?"

He stared at her silently for a few moments.

Then, her teacher scoffed.

"Haven't I told you? It's because I am your long - lost brother."

Rain sighed.

"And I told you that I would have remembered having a brother."

He studied her for a while without saying a word.

Then, he shrugged nonchalantly.

"Weren't you adopted?"

Rain nodded slowly, not knowing what that had to do with anything.

'Wait...'

Her teacher smiled.

"Well, I was your brother before that. There... you have my permission to
drop the 'teacher' and start calling me 'older brother' instead."

Rain froze.

'Before... that?'

She had no memories from before she was adopted. After all, that happened
when she was very young - three years old, at best.
Her parents had never made a secret of the fact that she was not their
biological child, and had never treated her differently because of that. That
was why Rain had never really felt a need to learn where she had come
from...

However, she had tried to find out eventually. Her parents helped her, and
her dad even pulled some strings at work.

But there was nothing to learn. There was no robust centralized database
that contained the records of every person living in the outskirts - in fact,
many of them had no digital trace whatsoever. They weren't citizens, and
so, the government did not care to waste manpower on keeping records of
them.

All they found out was that Rain's parents were both deceased, her mother
passing away last due to illness - even that was only a rumor an orphanage
worker heard from the person who had worked there before him.

And that was all.

She had been a little disappointed to have learned nothing, but not too
much.

So why... why did Rain feel like she was forgetting something?

It was as if she had just thought about it, but the thought slipped away.

Looking at her teacher, she asked evenly:

"If you are really my brother... then where have you been? Where have you
been all this time?"

His smile dimmed a little.

Strangely, Rain found it hard to focus on what he was about to say.

Her teacher lingered for a few moments, then looked away.

"Rotting in the outskirts, at first. And then... well. I can't really tell you, and
you should not ask."

Rain looked at him, stunned.

He was not joking. He had not been joking, from the start.

She felt... some strange, inexplicable emotion rising in her heart.

She thought that she had never cared about her original family and about
her past. But now, it seemed that she had been wrong.

Or maybe she had simply forgotten.

Looking at the young man sitting in front of her...

The familiar, insufferable, whimsical, caring, strong, funny, unreliable,

dependable man who had been her companion, confidant, teacher, and
protector for the last four years...

Rain took a shaky breath.

Then, she said tentatively:

"B... brother?"
1975 : The Incredible Adventures and Astonishing Deeds of Heroic
Dreamer Sunless in the his Brave Disciple Rain, Abridged (Volume VIII)

Sunny had not planned to confess the truth of their bond to Rain today. He
had only wanted to show her the spoils of his raid on the supply caravan, so
that she could connect the dots and realize that her teacher and the Lord of
Shadows were the same person.

The two armies were going to clash soon, so Sunny had judged that it was
time to start slowly revealing the true nature of the war to Rain. She was
directly involved in the conflict between the Sovereigns, after all, so he had
to give her an opportunity to prepare herself for its resolution.

Because that resolution was not going to be what people on either side
expected it to be.

However, Rain reacted in a way that forced Sunny to share more truth than
he had wanted to… and although he could have avoided her poignant
question despite the strict limitations of his Flaw, after thinking about it for
a few fleeting moments, he chose not to.

Perhaps it was because of what had happened between him and Nephis.
Sunny had already forsaken reason and given up on holding back,
completely, abandoning caution to blindly follow his desires. And since he
had already betrayed one inhibition, the rest of them did not seem as
sensible and important anymore.

What did he have to lose? He had nothing.

"B… brother?"

Hearing that word from Rain's mouth made Sunny flinch.

It was such an emotional moment. It was something that he had been

wanting to hear… hear again… ever since saying goodbye to his little sister
in the rundown orphanage, almost two decades ago.
And yet, he had not flinched because of the powerful, almost overwhelming
feeling that swelled in his heart because of that word.

Instead, he had flinched out of sheer embarrassment.

It felt so awkward!

Partially because Sunny was almost afraid to choke up, but mostly because
he could not help but cringe a little at the same time. Hearing Rain call him
"brother" after the last four years was just too... unnatural.

He coughed, struggling with the desire to hide his face.

After a few moments of silence, Sunny said:

"...I take it back. You can continue to call me Teacher."

Rain studied him with a cautious, vulnerable expression.

For a moment, he was worried that his answer had heard her feelings…

But then, a faint smile twisted her lips.

"Big brother?"

Sunny shuddered.

'Even worse!'

"Stop it."

Rain's smile widened.

"Why… big brother?"

A heavy sigh escaped from Sunny's lips.

'I have not thought this through…'

***

Sunny led Rain out of the Brilliant Emporium. Both of them were silent, not
quite sure how to treat each other now that the nature of their relationship
was completely rewritten.

Sunny knew what his familial bond to Rain meant to him. She was the only
family he had left in the world… for many years, she had been the only
person he cared about in the world, as well. And even though there were
other people he cared for deeply now, Rain still held a singular place in his
heart.

But it was probably different for her.

What did the word "brother" even mean to his sister?

After all, she did not remember having him as a brother. As far as Rain was
concerned, someone else was her family — people who had raised her,
cared for her, and showered her with affection, never letting her feel alone
or abandoned. Who had been with her for as long as she could remember
herself. There was a lifetime of precious memories shared between them,
unlike between her and Sunny.

Why would she long for something that she had never lacked?

Why would she miss someone she had never known?

So… Rain must have felt a little awkward and unsure of what to say, too.

However, she did speak soon after exiting the Brilliant Emporium.

That was because Sunny had moved the Marvelous Mimic while they were
talking inside.

After ambushing the supply caravan, he had fled the battlefield with as
much speed as he could muster, not sparing any essence. It was quite a
prudent decision, considering that the battle had taken place within Ki
Song's Domain — if he had not left swiftly, the Queen herself could have
come to greet him.
As a result, Sunny had managed to return to the Nameless Temple in record
time. He had not planned to bring Rain here again, yet, but changed his
mind halfway through their conversation. Dismissing the Mimic from the
Hollows below the warcamp of the Song Army, he summoned it again as
the Lord of Shadows inside his Citadel.

So, Rain was quite surprised to see a vast underground chamber outside the
Mimic's door instead of the ancient jungle of the Hollows.

She looked around with interest.

"...This is the Nameless Temple, then? The Citadel of the Lord of

Shadows?"

Sunny nodded.

"Yes."

Rain took a deep breath.

"So you do have a Citadel, after all!"

He gave her an amused look.

"Didn't I say that I do?"

She lingered for a moment.

"Well, yeah… but you lie all the time, so I did not really believe it. I mean,
you lived in my shadow for four… for four… for four years…"

Rain's voice slowly trailed off, as if she was starting to realize something.

Sunny scoffed.

"I never lie. Didn't I also tell you that I am the most honest person in the
world? Two worlds, even."

His sister's eyes widened slowly.

He could guess what she was thinking about.

'The joke about being my brother turned out to be true. The story about
ruling an ancient temple turned out to be true. Wait. Wait, wait, wait! If
those are true… then what else is true?!'

Rain looked at him with a fearful expression.

A few moments later, she asked in a small voice:

"So… that story about killing an evil version of yourself?"

Sunny nodded.

"Ah, yes. That happened. He was such a hateful, odious, insufferable

bastard! Good riddance."

Rain hesitated.

"What about sailing on a river of time that flows inside the corpse of an
Unholy Titan?"

He shrugged.

"Sure. That was my Third Nightmare."

Her eyes shook a little.

Rain gulped, then took a deep breath.

"...What about being twenty-six years old, four years old, and several
thousands of years old at the same time?"

Sunny glanced at her and smiled nonchalantly.

"River of time, remember? You would not believe the kind of shenanigans I
survived there. It's also the reason why I am twenty-six years old despite
having been born twenty-five years ago, and am five years older than you
despite having been only four years older than you before. Oh, and the part
about being four years old — that is the age of this incarnation of mine. I
became a Saint during the Chain of Nightmares."

Rain just stared at him silently, dumbstruck.

"As if any of that nonsense makes any sense!"

Sunny smiled brightly.

"I'll give you that. The Tomb of Ariel was a little confusing…"

The young woman opened and closed her mouth several times, as if trying
to force herself to ask the next question, but not daring to.

Eventually, she managed to squeeze out:

"What about being a celebrity, a war hero, and immensely rich?"

Sunny grinned.

"I used to be all of those at one point in time or another. Come to think
about it, I am back to being all three now!"

Rain took a deep breath, remained silent for a while, and then asked
weakly:

"Do you really... know someone who became a Saint as a baby?"

He raised an eyebrow.

'Huh. She remembers that, too?'

It seemed like his nagging had been quite memorable.

"Sure! You've heard of him too, actually… Little Ling, Saint Athena's son.
Of course, you weren't there when he was born and did not feed him ice
cream every week, unlike me. Oh, and I am also the only reason she met
her husband…"
Rain remained silent for longer this time, then suddenly yelled:

"What about the blood of an ancient demon flowing in your veins?! What
about devouring the bones of a nebulous deity?! What about ruling a
fragment of a divine realm?!"

Sunny scratched the back of his head in embarrassment, then said humbly:

"...All true."

Rain staggered.

After a while, she asked in a quiet,, numb voice:

"Did Beastmaster really ask you to run away with her once?"

He laughed, which prompted Rain to glare at him angrily.

'I should probably tone it down…'

"Well… yeah. Technically, she offered to run away from a Great Nightmare
Creature together — but there were other candidates, and she chose me. I
guess she likes me... a little."

His sister closed her eyes and fell silent.

Eventually, though, she asked in a shaking voice:

"...Is Lady Nephis really your girlfriend?"

Sunny tripped.

He did not answer for a while, then coughed and said in a neutral tone:

"Don't start calling her Sister-in-Law just yet… but yeah, it's true."

He paused for a moment, and then added with a dreamy smile:

"In fact, I'm in her bedroom right now…"

In the next moment, Sunny was surprised to find a fist flying toward his
face.
1976. Rani of Shadow

Sunny failed to dodge Rain's punch.

...So, she hurt her hand.

They ascended the stairs silently, but the silence was much less awkward
than it had been a few minutes ago. In fact, it was quite comfortable, almost
like before... well, if not for the fact that Rain groaned from time to time,
cradling her bruised hand.

"What the hell are you made of, stone?"

Sunny looked at her and smiled.

"Actually... yeah, sort of. You see, there was this suit of armor I had, a
Memory of something forged by the ruler of the Underwolrd..."

Rain shook her head decisively.

"No, no, stop. I don't want to know!"

He chuckled.

There were some Valor troops stationed at the Nameless Temple, but their
camp was outside its walls. Still, they had access to the main hall and the
Gateway located there, so Sunny took a roundabout way to the inner
sanctum the courtyard beyond.

There, a tall tree stood in absolute darkness, its leaves rustling quietly in the
wind.

Sunny led Rain across the black marble plates. As he did, the darkness
around them stirred and surged, eventually manifesting into a long bench -
sitting down, Sunny leaned back and inhaled deeply.

Rain sat down, too, looking around with curiosity. Her gaze grew a little
tense at the sight of the tree, and she studied it cautiously.
Her caution was easy to understand - here in Godgrave, the only trees were
those spawned by the abominable jungle. She had seen too many of her
comrades being killed and consumed by them, enough so that the sound of
rustling leaves had already become an instinctual fear.

Sunny sighed.

"Calm down. I brought it here from the waking world... it is a perfectly

mundane tree."

He paused for a moment, and then added:

"Well, at least it should be.”

In truth, he wasn't quite sure. After being tended to by Shakti the Fire
Keeper, this tree of his had recovered from its former malaise. It was doing
quite well now, already having grown a bit taller... too well, even,
considering the environment. It was only ever surrounded by shadows, after
all.

Sunny honestly had no idea what was happening to his tree.

Hearing his words, Rain seemed to calm down. She looked around once
more, and then asked suddenly:

"Wait. If you really are a Saint who rules a Citadel... and my brother...
then…”

Her expression became a little strange.

"...Doesn't that make me an actual Legacy? I'm a Legacy?"

Sunny stared at her silently for a few moments.

That was an interesting question, actually.

He was one of the six most powerful humans in the world, did indeed
conquer a Citadel with his own two hands, and had even unlocked his
Aspect Legacy. More than that, Rain was a direct beneficiary of that Legacy
now that she bore the Mark of Shadows.

There was no codified definition of what a Legacy clan was, really. Most of
them had been founded by the prominent Awakened of the First Generation
- those powerful and lucky enough to survive and thrive in the dire world of
the Nightmare Spell. Ruling a Citadel and having a Legacy heirloom were
common traits shared by many clans, but not all of them.

In fact, the hierarchy of the Awakened nobility had been shaken in recent
years. With so many new Masters and Saints making a name for themselves
in the wake of the Chain of Nightmares, some old families had suddenly
found themselves inferior to the nameless newcomers.

Old clans fell out of power, and new ones were being established. Take the
Han Li clan, for example, who had lost its most promising scion and never
managed to produce a Saint- although not entirely forgotten, it had
definitely declined, losing all influence.

It was funny to think that Sunny had once been afraid of their retaliation.

He scoffed.

"Girl... if you don't qualify to be a Legacy, then no one in the world can
claim that they do."

Rain blinked a couple of times, then suddenly smiled.

"Well, well, well... who would have thought? Turns out I'm just as much of
a princess as Tamar is. Ha! That is an entirely new perspective... how
should I break the news to her, I wonder!"

She remained silent for a few moments.

"Wait, so what do I call myself? Rain of the Shadow Clan? Rain of

Shadow? I mean... Rani of Shadow? That does sound kind of cool…”

Sunny did not answer immediately, since he was stumped himself.

What about him? Was he supposed to call himself Sunny of Shadow?
Sunless of Shadow? No, that did not sound even remotely right.

But then again, Neph's grandfather had not called himself Immortal Flame
of the Immortal Flame...

He was simply Immortal Flame.

So, Sunny did not have to call himself anything.

"You can call yourself whatever you want. However, do remember that if
anyone learns of our relationship, the royal clan will probably capture and
execute you as a spy. The Lord of Shadows is a champion of the Sword
Domain, after all."

Rain smiled dimmed a little.

"Right. I guess I'll continue playing the peasant and let Tamar be the
princess... for a while longer. But then!"

She laughed.

"I'll force her to call me Young Lady Rani for a week straight!"

After that, Rain gave Sunny a curious look, hesitated for a few moments,
and said in a tone that was a little more subdued:

"If it was you who fought Princess Revel at Vanishing Lake, then you must
have crossed swords with Tamar's dad, as well."

Her words hung in the silence, making the courtyard of the Nameless
Temple feel a bit grim.

Sunny knew what Rain had left unsaid. It was that he could have become
the murderer of her friend's father... and that fighting on the different sides
of a bloody war was not as inconsequential as Sunny tried to make it look.

He shrugged.
"That Citadel was quite large. I only saw him from the distance, actually.”

Then, he looked at her and added:

"It is not your place or responsibility to think about these matters, Rain. You
are merely an Awakened... in the grand scheme of the war, your beliefs and
actions are insignificant. Not that they don't have value. In any case, you
don't have to feel burdened by what is happening to the world. All you can
do is follow your principles and do your best."

Sunny turned to the tree, remained silent, and then added, a hint of coldness
finding its way into his voice:

"People like me will deal with the rest.”

Rain studied him for a while, then asked neutrally:

"Because your beliefs and actions are significant, unlike mine?"

Sunny smiled darkly and shook his head.

"The only difference between you and me... is that I am strong enough to
force my beliefs onto others, and reshape the world with my actions.
Strength is the only virtue that matters, in the end. And weakness is the only
sin."

She let out a quiet sigh and looked at the tree, as well, listening to the
peaceful rustle of its leaves.

After a while, Rain asked:

Why did you bring a tree from the waking world here, anyway?"

Sunny lingered for a moment, and then smiled.

"Because it is my grave."
1977. Their Legacy

Rain lingered for a moment, then said in a neutral tone:

"That's... a bit ominous."

Sunny chuckled and looked at the tree with a distant expression. Eventually,
he glanced at her with a faint smile.

"I wanted you to see this tree, actually."

He paused for a heartbeat or two, then looked away.

"People in the outskirts rarely get to have graves. The place is terribly
overcrowded - well, at least it used to be before the Dream Gates and the
mortality rate is extremely high. Bodies get disposed of in a very utilitarian
way, so there's nothing left behind."

Sunny sighed.

"Very few people from the outskirts survive the First Nightmare, as well.
So, I was quite convinced that I would die when the Spell chose me. I didn't
mind that much, really, but it was a bit sad to think that there would be no
trace of me left in the world..."

He paused for a moment and smiled wryly, realizing how ironic it was.
After all, that was exactly what had happened to him, in the end every trace
of his life had been erased from existence, leaving nothing behind. He had
assured this obliteration willingly, earnestly, and with his own hands.

Oblivious to his thoughts, Rain listened to him intently.

Sunny looked at her, then pointed to the lonely tree.

"That was why I carved a line into this tree before entering the Nightmare.
You know... to leave my mark on the world."

She traced his finger and studied the dark bark, then frowned slightly.
"But there are three lines.”

Sunny nodded.

"Yes. That is because I had carved two lines into the tree before that."

He paused for a few moments.

"For our parents."

Rain grew quiet, looking at the three lines with a guarded expression.

Sunny smiled wistfully.

What could he say?

After a while, he finally spoke:

"They were good people, the two of them. Actually, they were very
mundane people, but that is already an accomplishment in the outskirts. Our
father... I don't really remember him that well. In my memory, he is more of
a feeling than a person - something big, quiet, strong, and caring. Mom used
to say that he had a mischievous side and quite a hot temper hiding behind
the calm facade, but I don't know. He worked on one of the city barrier
maintenance crews, and died in an accident not long after you were born.
Stuff like that happens all the time to maintenance workers."

Sunny did not know a lot about his father, but he did know some things.
The mere fact that his dad had been a maintenance worker instead of ending
up in one of the local gangs spoke a lot about his character. The way he had
cared about his family was quite telling, too.

He had been a good person, and both Sunny and Rain inherited some of that
goodness... it seemed.

It suddenly occurred to Sunny that Rain's mild obsession with building and
infrastructure, which she had picked up while working as a laborer on the
road crew, might have come from their dad.
He smiled.

"Our mom... now that I think about it, when you were born, she was about
as old as you are now. She was very cheerful, soft... and pretty. Well, at
least from what I remember. Actually, you look a lot like her. When I saw
you for the first time, I thought - thank the gods, unlike me, Rain took after
mom!"

Sunny chuckled.

Rain indeed resembled their mom very much. Of course, her beauty was far
more striking... after all, she was an Awakened. Perhaps more importantly
than that, she had grown up in an affluent district of NQSC, breathing clean
air and eating well.

Their mother, however, had spent all her life in the outskirts, where the air
was toxic and the best food one could get was synthpaste. She had been
affected by this harsh and unforgiving environment, inside and out.

...Still, in Sunny's memory, she was breathtaking.

His smile widened a little as he looked at Rain, studying her features subtly.

"She loved us very much. Mom worked in a factory that produced air
filtration systems, and spent all her free time taking care of you and me. We
lived in a small cell in one of the hives, on one of the highest floors. In the
winter, she often cuddled with us on the floor, sharing her warmth and
reading to us."

Sunny searched her memory for more details, not knowing what else to say.

"Oh, yes... she liked reading. We had an old communicator with a cracked
screen, and she downloaded all kinds of stuff from the network to read. She
especially liked fanciful stories about the world before the Dark Times.
What else? Her favorite snack was fried synthpaste crumbs, with whichever
spices she could get, She called me Sunless because I was born during an
eclipse, and called you Rain because you were born during a storm."
Rain's eyes widened slightly.

He paused, remained silent for a few moments, and then sighed.

"...She got sick when you were about three, and eventually passed away. I...
hope you never believed that you had been abandoned. Because she would
have never left you... or me... by choice. It's just that life is hard in the
outskirts."

Sunny hesitated for a while, looking at the gently rustling tree.

Eventually, a pale smile twisted his lips.

"I know that it probably doesn't mean as much to you as it does to me. After
all, you already have parents, and they are quite wonderful parents at that. I
don't want or expect you to feel any particular way about what I told you,
either. It's just that... being forgotten is quite a sad thing. No one remembers
mom and dad in this world, except me... but now, you can remember them
too. It makes me happy to know that."

Rain remained silent for a few moments.

Then, she said quietly:

"I will. I'll keep them well in my memory."

Sunny smiled.

With that, he stretched his arms above his head and let out a long sigh.

"Well, good. Now, speaking of Memories... we were sidetracked for quite a

long time, weren't we? Young Lady Tamar is probably wondering what the
hell are you doing in the baths for so long. So, let's get to the important
stuff, shall we?”

Rain studied his face with a sober expression for a while, then smiled
tentatively.
"Sure. After all, as a Legacy, I should receive some cool stuff, shouldn't I? I
swear, there has never been a poorer Legacy than me... and a stingier
founder of a Legacy Clan than you. Big brother..."
1978. Shiny New Heirloom

After speaking to Rain about their parents, Sunny felt strangely at peace.
The darkness surrounding the Nameless Temple was safe and nurturing, and
the quiet rustle of the leaves was pleasantly soothing. Added to his previous
euphoria, it seemed like nothing could spoil his tranquil mood.

But, at the same time, he didn't feel quite well about himself. After all, he
had unexpectedly dumped the knowledge that they were family on Rain,
and then proceeded to give her a lecture about their dead parents... whom
she did not even remember.

Rain was a young woman who was trying to find her place in the world
while dealing with the appalling nature of war the former was already
difficult enough, but the latter was a mental burden that no human could
carry well, let alone endure unscathed.

Sunny knew it better than most

And yet here he was, adding to her burden.

Feeling a bit guilty, he decided to sweeten the deal with some gifts.

Luckily, there were the Memories he had prepared for her.

Although Rain seemed a little distant and subdued, her eyes glistened at the
mention of Memories. She had witnessed and survived so many horrors
since the start of the war, after all, and unlike other Awakened soldiers, she
had not received any rewards from the Spell in the process.

The same Awakened soldiers were walking around with their shiny new
Memories on full display, and she saw them every minute of every day.

Naturally, Rain was excited.

And Sunny's mood improved even further after witnessing her excitement.

"Alright... here we go. Don't thank me too enthusiastically!"

With that, he summoned the [Bag of Withholding] and presented it to her
proudly.

However, her reaction was not what he had expected.

Instead of bursting with delight and admiration, Rain's just continued to

look at him expectantly.

Her expression did not change at all.

She remained silent for a few moments, looking at him with lively
anticipation, then blinked a few times and glanced behind him.

Sunnv tilted his head a little.

"What's wrong?"

Rain smiled cautiously.

"...That's not it, is it?"

'What a strange question...'

Still holding the Bag of Withholding in one hand, he scratched the back of
his head with the other.

"I mean... yes? That's it."

Her smile froze a little.

Slowly, the excited gleam of Rain's eyes was replaced with something that
strangely resembled fury.

A seething kind of fury.

Leaning forward, she shouted suddenly:

"What do you mean, that's it?! One Memory? One?! After everything I went
through, and all the abominations I killed? Am... am I a joke to you?! What
kind of a damned Legacy lord are you, huh? Big brother!"

Sunny stared at her in shock.

Then, he stared some more.

After that, he let out a quiet sigh and said with reproach:

"Open it, you idiot."

Rain frowned, then grabbed the leather backpack from his hand without
spending even a second to appreciate the delicate stitching and tasteful
decorative details, at that! - and opened the clasp roughly.

A moment later, she forgot to breathe.

Sunny scoffed.

"Such an ingrate..."

Rain raised her head, looking at him with burning eyes.

Her expression was strangely intense.

"Is that... a spatial storage Memory?"

And her voice was strangely hoarse.

Sunny nodded dismissively.

"Yeah. Just a little something I crafted for practice... it's called the Bag of
Withholding, by the way. I put everything else inside."

In the next moment, he was suddenly deafened by a high- pitched squeal,

and then frightened by a low, completely unladylike boast of laughter.

"Big brother is the best..."

Sunny's eyes twitched.

"I told you to stop calling me that."

Rain continued to stare at the Bag of Withholding.

"Whatever..."

She studied the leather backpack with bright eyes, then nodded in
satisfaction and finally looked up.

"We can work on your naming sense later. Let's see what's inside!"

Sunny frowned in confusion.

'What? What is wrong with my naming sense?'

...But that was an exercise in self- delusion. In fact, he knew perfectly well
what was wrong with it.

'Alright, alright. She's not wrong. But... at least I named the other Memories
exceptionally well...'

Rain carefully took the Memories in question out of the Bag of

Withholding.

Soon, they were all laid neatly on the bench between them.

Sunny pointed to a green flask housed in a black leather sleeve.

"This is the [Green Canteen]. It can store a great amount of water, as well as
purify it. Just like the last time, you need to infuse a bit of your essence to
claim it as your Memory."

Rain did just that and smiled in satisfaction.

"This is great. Not only can I drink as much as I want, but I can also use it if
my water ration in the baths runs out!"

Sunny nodded.
"Yeah. Just don't forget to refill it from time to time. It is quite voluminous,
but not boundless."

With that, he pointed to three arrows.

"These are [Heavy Burden], [Outskirts at Noon], and [Don't Cut

Yourself]..."

Rain gave him a strange look.

"Really? Those are the names you went with?"

Sunny gritted his teeth.

"Yes. If you don't like them, I can just take them back..."

Rain quickly swept up the arrows and pressed them against her chest.

"No, no! I like them a lot! I can't believe you managed to create something
so ingenious, deadly, and aptly named! Uh... what do they do, exactly?"

Sunny gave her an unamused look, then a detailed explanation. As he

talked, Rain's expression slowly grew more serious.

Eventually, she nodded.

"I see. Quite powerful, indeed... but I will have to use them tactically.
Otherwise, they'll just drain my essence without accomplishing anything.”

Sunny held the same opinion.

"It should become a bit easier as you absorb more soul shards, but yes. The
potency of Memories I can craft for you is limited by the quantity and
quality of your essence. The more powerful a Memory is, the steeper the
price of using it will be."

Some of the more powerful Memories could even kill their wielder if used
carelessly. Others came with their own kind of Flaws to balance their dire
power... like the Sin of Solace, for example.
That cursed thing...

Moving on from the three arrows, Sunny briefly explained what [Safety
First] and the [Pièce de Résistance] did. Rain was especially impressed by
the latter...

But not for the right reason.

"A cooling effect?! Ah! It's the best!"

Sunny stared at her for a few moments and shook his head in dejection.

'Does she not realize how revolutionary its other enchantments are... tsk!
Too young, too naive...'

He made sure that Rain claimed and summoned both Memories before
moving on to the last one. An additional layer of protection was added to
the Puppeteer's Shroud, making the armor look much more suitable for
intense melee.

Sunny appreciated the subtle, but tasteful blend of grey fabric and black
leather, giving himself a mental pat on the shoulder. He had been sure of the
defensive properties of this Memory, but worried a little about its aesthetic
value. After all, it wasn't easy to design it in a way that complemented the
look of the Puppeteer's Shroud perfectly.

But he had done well. His sister looked positively... cool, sharp, and darkly
formidable in this enchanted armor.

Finally, he pointed to the sash made from glistening black silk.

"And this... is the [In Case of Emergency]. The most important Memory
you'll possess during this war."

Rain frowned, then picked up the silk sash and tied it around her waist.

It went well with the Puppeteer's Shroud, as well, making Sunny regret not
having this version of
the enchanted armor on the Forgotten Shore.

A moment later, he shuddered in fright.

'Oh, no! Have I been infected by Kai?!'

Throwing the terrifying thought out of his head, he looked at Rain.

"Activate the enchantment."

She did as he told... and suddenly froze.

Not just figuratively, but quite literally.

Even a few strands of her beautiful raven-black hair that the wind had been
playing with hung motionlessly in the air, as if frozen in time.

Of course, they were merely frozen in space.

The only sign that Rain was still alive was that her chest was still rising and
falling subtly.

Sunny nodded in satisfaction.

"Deactivate the enchantment."

Rain's hair fell, and she took a deep breath while throwing a complicated
look at the silk sash.

He sighed.

"That is in case a Cloudbreak catches you unaware. Never take this

Memory off while you're in Godgrave... do you understand?"

Rain threw a tense look at him, then nodded slowly.

Sunny smiled.

"Good. Well, then..."

Time was waiting for no one. There was one more thing he needed to talk to
Rain about - quite an important thing, too - but it was going to have to wait.

"You've been gone from the camp for too long. I better bring you back..."

Rain smiled.

"Sure. Let's go."

She looked at him with mischief in her eyes, and added:

"Big..."

Before she could finish the sentence, Sunny dismissed the shadows forming
the bench they were sitting on, and watched as Rain fell to the marble floor
with a startled yelp.