Shadow Slave

Sunny looked at the black mask and the darkness hiding in its eyes. Its features were not as much contorted as fearsome by nature. It was simultaneously fearsome and somber, bestial and regal. As though existing at the border of all things.

But most of all, the striking mask radiated a sense of mystery.

The vicious fangs, the twisting horns, the black lacquered wood of it all… once again, his intuition was silent. There was nothing he felt toward the black mask, as though it didn't even exist.

'How strange.'

Sunny waited for a few moments, then picked up the mask and brought it to his face to take a closer look at it.

But just a moment after his fingers touched the sleek surface of the polished wood, the mask suddenly disintegrated into a swarm of countless white sparks. Acting like water, the stream of light flowed toward Sunny's chest and entered into his body, disappearing into the dark depths of his shadow core.

The voice of the Spell thundered suddenly, louder than it had ever been before:

[You have received a Memory.]

***

Sunny remained motionless for a few seconds, thinking about what just happened.

By now, he knew that some Memories could exist outside of the soul cores, just like how Shard Memories did.

Was the black mask one of them? Somehow, he felt that it wasn't.

'Why I am even guessing? Let's… let's just take a look?'

The reason he was lingering was because of the magnitude of the situation. Sunny didn't know anything about the mysterious mask, but he believed that this relic of the past was truly unusual. The circumstances that had led to its discovery were too extraordinary, and the place it was hidden in was too uncanny to think otherwise.

was understandably

the spheres of light floating around the black sun of the Shadow Core. There was a new one there, which seemed to be much brighter

of the dark mask that hovered in front of him. It was as

the involuntary desire

embers were burning with such intensity that it almost blinded him. All around them, incalculable ethereal

'Seven anchors… gods!'

and summoned the

Memory: [Weaver's Mask].

Memory Rank: Divine.

Memory Tier: VII.

Memory Type: Tool.

as a mantle. No one knew Weaver's thoughts, Weaver's face, and Weaver's heart. Even the

[Mantle of Lies], [???], [Simple

away for a moment

of the seventh tier…

three enchantments. Sunny expected such a powerful Memory to have dozens of them — judging by

to require a

back to the runes, he concentrated on the enchantments and read

Enchantment: [Mantle of Lies].

the identity of

enchantment was anything but. In fact, it was so

what it actually meant was that any form of detection was powerless against it. And Sunny suspected that "any" was not a figure of

Ability, which allowed her to see a person's Attributes, would not work on someone wearing the mask. There were countless similar

that explains why my intuition was silent about the prisoner and the mask itself. Whatever

description of the Weaver's Mask stated that even the gods could not see through it, and it was