Shadow Slave

Just a few moments before Bloodwave and the uninvited guest appeared in the runic hall of the Night Garden, Jet, who had been looking at her fellow Saints with a wary expression, smiled suddenly.

She turned to Nightwalker.

”You know what? I think I’ll take that shift, after all. You look exhausted.”

He raised an eyebrow.

”Oh, really?”

Jet was already stepping into the runic circle.

She maintained an easy smile as a cold shiver ran down her spine.

”What’s this? You don’t seem happy at all. After complaining so much...”

She patted him on the shoulder and gently pushed him out of the circle. Nightwalker seemed a little reluctant, but he did not have a reason to refuse, so he left without saying anything.

By then, the silhouettes of two people were already forming in the air.

As the captain of the Night Garden, Jet was always connected to it. However, that connection was usually subtle and vague, existing in the deep periphery of her subconscious mind. It was only when she stepped into the runic circle that the connection opened fully, allowing her to share the feelings of the living ship and exert precise control over it.

Now, too, she suddenly both remained herself and became a vast presence that bathed in the nurturing heat of divine flames as her body sheltered and nurtured millions of living beings in turn.

Time seemed to slow down for a moment. Jet could only see the vague silhouettes of Bloodwave and the civil engineer he was supposed to bring as they were manifested in the Dream Realm.

However, the Night Garden felt their arrival far more deeply. One was familiar and caring. The other was a stranger, his presence as vast as an ocean and full of endless, insatiable hunger... and kinship, as well.

The stranger bore the scent of Heart God and its sacred forest.

Jet’s smile faltered.

‘A civil engineer, my foot.’

Before she could react, Bloodwave and the man he carried across the realm boundary fully materialized on the floor of the runic hall. The supposed engineer was tall and imposing, looking at her with two radiant golden eyes.

He was none other than Supreme Asterion, the Dreamspawn, in the flesh.

Jet felt her blood running cold.

She had expected an ambush... but she had not expected that.

As Asterion looked around the bridge of the Night Garden with curiosity, the other Saints — Naeve, Aether, Bloodwave, Tyris, Roan, and even Nightwalker — bowed.

“Welcome, my lord.”

The corner of Jet’s mouth twitched as she spared Nightwalker a dark look.

Him too? After all the torment and horror he had endured because of the Dreamspawn?

...Or had he been a thrall of the Dreamspawn this whole time?

‘No, it couldn’t be.’

Jet’s mood soured.

Still, she mentally patted herself on the back. Her distrust of the other Saints had turned out to be justified — if there was one thing that had never failed her in this life, it was paranoia.

Finally, Asterion’s gaze settled on Jet. She met it steadily, trying her best not to appear rattled.

He smiled.

“Ah, Soul Reaper Jet. What a charming nickname. It is a pleasure to meet you... oh, but you don’t seem to be surprised to see me at all?”

Jet remained silent for a few moments, then forced on a faint smile of her own.

“On the contrary. I am quite shocked.”

She glanced at the Saints that were scattered around the runic hall, surrounding her, and shrugged.

“I was expecting that the six of them would try to subdue me with an unexpected attack. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that Lord Asterion himself would come to deal with this humble Transcendent.”

He chuckled.

”A humble Transcendent? Please, don’t sell yourself short.”

Asterion studied Jet with a hint of amusement in his golden eyes.

”I’ve met all kinds of people, you know? Powerful people, cunning people, great masters of warfare and the like... even people whose main virtue was that they were inexplicably lucky, which made them more dangerous than all the rest. And among all those people, you’d still rank as one of the most impressive, Miss Jet.”

Jet scoffed.

“What is this, flattery?”

He shrugged.

”No, no... I’m simply stating the facts. Everyone has a weakness, you see. But not all weaknesses can be easily exploited. Powerful people, cunning people, lucky people, and great masters of all kinds — dealing with them poses no problem at all. To tell you the truth, I wasn’t planning to act personally at this stage, since delegating tasks to my subordinates was more than sufficient.”

Asterion sighed.

”But no matter how much I tried, I couldn’t see a way for them to deal with Soul Reaper Jet. Not without sacrificing more talents than I am willing to sacrifice, at least, or without destroying you instead of making you mine. It is quite an accomplishment, really... I can’t believe that we all overlooked such a gem, all those years ago.”

He looked at Jet and smiled brightly.

“So, I had to come and deal with you myself. There are only two Transcendents who managed to make me act personally, by the way. Well done.”

Jet studied him with a concerned expression.

”...What an honor.”

Asterion laughed.

“I feel a note of sarcasm in your voice, but actually, it is indeed an honor. You should feel proud.”

Jet studied him for a few moments, then sighed.

“You know, people like me — those who grew up in the outskirts — don’t like the word honor that much. In fact, one might say that we can’t stand it.”

He raised an eyebrow, looking at her with curiosity.

“The outskirts? I am sorry, but I am not familiar with the term. Is that something from your world?”

A grin slowly bloomed on Jet’s lips.

”Right. You’re not from Earth, so you might not know. Yes, it’s a term from the waking world. The outskirts are where the non-citizens lived, and they had a peculiar culture. People from the outskirts — those who live long enough to escape them, at least — are known to be distrustful, vicious, cynical, and tenacious. They often share common traits, as well.”

She took a deep breath and glanced around the runic hall, chillingly evaluating the Sovereign and the six Saints that surrounded her.

“Like, for example...”

The runes of the circle shimmered faintly, and a subtle change spread across the hall. Jet smiled darkly.

“They tend to never enter a room without an exit strategy...”