Shadow Slave

The whole spectacle was so smoothly orchestrated that Sunny was almost tempted to believe in it. Of course, he knew better.

The only thing he didn't know was whether the bits performed by the Pathfinder and Gemma were rehearsed in advance or improvised on the fly to fulfill their lord's desire to maintain appearances while having the man who had dared to speak openly against him publicly executed.

And that was what this was, an execution. Sunny didn't believe for a second that Gunlaug was going to give the brave hunter a chance to leave the grand hall alive. No, he wanted him dead, and he wanted everyone to see him die.

…Lest they get the idea that it was possible to run their mouths against him and escape unscathed.

And yet, and yet… a tiny ember of hope still burned in Sunny's heart. From the looks of it, Jubei was an experienced hunter. A capable, seasoned warrior who faced numerous monsters and ended up on top every time. He was very strong, with enough willpower and resolve to crush rocks into dust. Perhaps a miracle would happen.

No matter how small, there was a possibility.

That's why Sunny couldn't understand why Gunlaug would be willing to risk his right-hand man's life in this farce.

…As though reading his thoughts, the Bright Lord spoke:

"A challenge? Ah, so be it. This is a sacred tradition, indeed. As long as good men are willing to put their lives on the line for the sake of righteousness, depravity can't win…"

The crowd of Sleepers exploded into whispers. Some of them were tense and somber, others filled with dark anticipation. The corner of Sunny's mouth turned downwards.

From what he could see, depravity had already won, or at least gotten the upper hand.

But Gunlaug wasn't done speaking:

"...However, it would not be suitable for you to represent the accused personally, Gemma. The Bright Castle can't afford to lose you, my friend. Jubei, would you mind if the accused chose another champion?"

The hunter from the outer settlement simply shrugged and said:

"Bring your worst, cowards."

Bright Lord turned to the Pathfinder and tilted his head. With his suddenly pale face reflected in the eerie mask of the strange golden armor, the murderer remained silent for a few moments, and then said in a quiet voice:

choose Harus, my

running down his spine. Why did it have to be that

silence, Jubei smirked and spat with

"Even better!"

a score to settle with

through the whole procedure, stared at the Pathfinder who had named him with no particular expression on his bony face, and

reacted to this unexpected turn of events differently. Gemma frowned and threw a quick glance at Gunlaug before stepping back with a dark expression. Tessai grinned, as though expecting a good spectacle. Kido grew a little pale and took a little step sideways, trying to distance herself from the descending

allowing any emotion to appear on her cold, beautiful

to happen, Cassie squeezed Sunny's

I want to

pause, he answered in

sorry. We can't

the fact that he didn't want to be anywhere near Gunlaug's scarecrow, he knew that leaving now would draw

much information as possible. He couldn't miss the chance to see one of the

he and Harus were going to end up bloodied, with only one of them walking away alive from the fight. It was as though an invisible thread connected

it was a string

had been cleared in the center of the grand hall.

Sunny held his breath.

silently on the white throne, Jubei summoned his Memories. A flexible armor made out of red scales appeared on his body, complete with a winged helmet and a kite shield. In his hand, a curved scimitar weaved itself from the sparks

glanced at Harus and said in

what you're capable of,

floor. Then, he grimaced and straightened his spine as much as he could, suddenly losing the appearance of a

losing only to the giant Tessai. His monstrous, twisted shape radiated a sense of deep, bestial power. He didn't bother to summon any Memories, staring at

Jubei scowled.

"So be it."

Sunny held his

the scimitar. His movements were incredibly fast and nimble, his technique sharpened by

'Good… he's good…'