Shadow Slave

Sunny and the stygian courser continued their battle in the darkness of the Sky Below, then fell on the swaying surface of a heavenly chain. Turning into swift shadows, they clashed again and again as they glided across its length with terrible speed, ripping each other’s souls to shreds.

Traversing many kilometers in a matter of a dozen heartbeats, they emerged from the shadows and shot upward, then crashed on the surface of the next island, wrecking and destroying anything that appeared in their way.

The courser rammed Sunny again and again, carrying him further and further away through the night, not giving Saint and the Soul Serpent any chance to catch up. The stallion used his devastating hooves, his adamantine horns, and his sharp fangs… anything he had to deliver as much pain and damage to the wicked, tenacious, hateful enemy of his.

But Sunny was consumed with the same murderous fury. He returned the favor with his weapons, his claws, and his own fangs and horns as well, forgetting everything except for the crazed desire to obliterate his foe.

They rolled across the unfamiliar island like a wave of destruction and flew high into the sky — Sunny with the help of the Dark Wing and the Heavenly Burden, the Terror with the help of nothing but the force of his hind legs and the terrifying range of his dashing jump.

His fangs caught the fragile fabric of the transparent cloak, tearing it apart, and then both of them plummeted down once more, landing on another chain and instantly submerging into shadows.

Just like that, they fought without stop, overwhelmed by the maddening desire to destroy the enemy. When they clashed in their corporeal forms, Sunny was always on the losing side, receiving more wounds and being thrown around like a tattered rag doll.

However, when they became shadows, he held the advantage. Despite the fact that the black steed was three whole Classes ahead of him, they were of the same Rank. And while the courser was a more ancient and powerful Shadow…

Sunny was a divine one.

Suffused with the flame of divinity, each of his attacks dealt more damage, and that damage was far more terrible, as well. His shadow form, while much smaller, was far more fathomless and resilient. Held together by the bond of a True Name, his soul was much harder to destroy.

They fought, and fought, and fought, flying through the night as their bodies became broken and bloodied, and their souls became tattered and torn.

And yet, neither was willing to give up. Neither was willing to let the enemy live.

Sunny had never experienced a battle that was so ferocious, swift, and devastating. Everything happened too fast, and hurt too much, for him to properly perceive and comprehend. At some point, he stopped trying to, giving in entirely to his intuition and battle instinct.

There was only one truth and one unbreakable law, after all.

He had to kill the enemy, and prevent the enemy from killing him.

Everything else was just noise.

…Finally, exhausted and covered in wounds, they reached a deserted island where nothing living dwelled or grew. Rolling on the ground, Sunny used two shadows to augment his mangled body, and the third one to serve as his second pair of eyes.

Deep in the battle trance of clarity, he was able to perceive the whole world as one interconnected picture, with each part of it existing within the same complicated pattern as all the rest. His mind was forged into a single sharp edge, all of his thought dedicated to the battle, clear, purposeful. and swift.

He saw the silhouette of the infernal black horse approach him from the darkness, bloody foam streaming from the stallion’s mouth, unshaken will burning in the dreadful crimson eyes.

By now, the two of them knew each other better than they knew themselves. After all, they had spent countless nightmares hunting and killing each other, only to continue the battle in reality after the nightmares could not keep up anymore.

They were evenly matched… the black steed was far more powerful and had experienced centuries of bloody battles, but Sunny was devious, cunning, and full of insidious treachery that made up for his lack of strength.

Neither could overwhelm the other, and at this point, both were probably going to die trying.

The steed seemed to be at peace with such an outcome. And Sunny… Sunny was too.

…He would have preferred to stay alive, though.

‘Curse you…’

A low growl escaped from his lips, and then, Sunny suddenly dismissed his weapons, and even his armor, standing motionlessly under the starlit sky, his nakedness covered only by a crude loincloth.

Raising one hand, he massaged his aching chest, then bared his fangs in a dark grin and growled.

‘Let us end this, then.’

The black steed stared at the hateful enemy for a few moments, and then lowered his head, starlight shining on the sharp tips of his horns.

And then, the courser charged forward, breaking the ground with the push of his adamantine hooves.

Sunny lunged forward, as well.

He had only one gamble left. One desperate, devious trick…

Since he and the tenebrous stallion knew each other so well, he was going to try and turn into the Terror’s shadow.

Using Shadow Dance against another shadow was a strange concept, since shadows were formless and shapeless by nature. How was he supposed to peer into the very essence of something that was shifting and everchanging?

Well… he was either going to do it, somehow, or die.

That was why Sunny had dismissed his armor and his weapons. The black stallion did not use any weapons or armor, after all… only his hooves, his fangs, his horns, his unbreakable will, and his furious desire to kill.

That was what Sunny had to use, too.

He recalled everything he could about the endless stream of nightmares… every torturous death, every indescribable torment, every excruciating loss he still remembered… and how his enemy had been in those vile dreams.

He remembered a similar deserted island, centuries ago, where the Shadow Lord said his last goodbye to his faithful steed, and their exhilarating ride across the night skies just before that.

He remembered every wound that the stallion had dealt him, and every wound that he had dealt in return.

…And then, he tried to use Shadow Dance like he had used it on countless humans and creatures before — only this time, peering even deeper, wishing to understand even more.

For a moment, it was as though Sunny himself became the stygian steed.

He felt it… the rage, the hatred, the dark resolve… but also, deep underneath it, boundless loneliness, sorrow, and longing.

Ah… what a terrible fate it was, for a shadow to walk the world without its master…

He saw himself wandering across the ruins of the Kingdom of Hope, mournful and lost, and then returning to the now empty fortress that had once been his home… his master’s home… only to see it be overtaken and desecrated by marauding strangers.

He felt a deep, maddening rage, and gave in to this madness, letting it consume him.

And then, Sunny saw himself charging at a bloodied form of a four-armed demon.

He saw clearly what the black steed was going to do to kill him, a split second before it happened.

And so, he sidestepped the attack before it even came, raised his upper arms, locked his fists together, and brought them down with all the devastating, inhuman power he had.

The charge of the stallion missed, and instead, a terrible blow descended from above, landing on his spine and shattering it.

The black steed tumbled to the ground, suddenly paralyzed, and remained laying there, his side rising and falling shakily, his hoarse breathing slowing down and down…

Sunny fell, too.

‘Ah… hell…’

It felt like he was dying, too.

The pain in his chest had finally grown intolerable, as if his heart finally reached its limit.

Turning his head, he stared at the dying horse, whose dreadful crimson eyes were slowly growing dim and cold.

After a while, the madness burning in them was extinguished, and a shadow of a new emotion appeared in them.

Confusion, pain… and sudden recognition.

The black steed breathed in one last time, then let out of quiet whine.

And died.

Sunny closed his eyes.

He was so, so tired.

‘…I won.’

Well… then, maybe, it was time for him to die, too.

In the darkness, the voice of the Spell whispered into his ear, its voice soft and solemn:

[You have slain an Awakened Shadow, Nightmare.]

[Your shadow grows stronger.]

He felt a vast amount of shadow fragments flow into his cores, reinforcing them, and thought tiredly:

‘Strange… that doesn’t feel like just six of them…’

…But the Spell was not done speaking.

It remained silent for a moment, and then said:

[…You have received a Shadow.]

[Your Aspect Legacy mastery level has increased.]

[You have received the right to claim a Legacy Relic.]

Sunny weakly tried to smile.

‘Such great news… this would have been great, if I was not dying.’

And then, a strange sound invaded his ears. It sounded like… like… the rustle of sails…

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