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.

he was understandably

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

the dark mask that hovered in front of him. It was as though he was facing an invisible person wearing it. Shifting uncomfortably, Sunny lowered his gaze a little and looked beneath the

involuntary desire to cover his

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

'Seven anchors… gods!'

and summoned the runes that described it. What he saw made him take

Memory: [Weaver's Mask].

Memory Rank: Divine.

Memory Tier: VII.

Memory Type: Tool.

always hid behind numerous lies, wearing them as a mantle. No one knew Weaver's thoughts, Weaver's face, and

[Mantle of Lies],

away for a

Memory of the seventh tier… holy

to see that the mask only had three enchantments. Sunny expected such a powerful Memory to have dozens of them — judging by how boundless and insanely complicated the weave of

to require

the runes, he concentrated on the

Enchantment: [Mantle of Lies].

[Hides the identity of its

description sounded very simple, but looking at the spellweave of the black mask, Sunny could tell that this enchantment was anything but. In fact, it was so vast and powerful that his mind was

the identity of the person wearing the mask from prying eyes, but what it actually meant was that any form of detection was powerless against it. And Sunny suspected that "any" was not a figure of speech in

person's Attributes, would not work on someone

was silent about the prisoner and the mask itself. Whatever kind of fate-related sixth sense I have is

more terrifying was the fact that the enchantment was not aimed at just the Awakened. The description of the Weaver's Mask stated that even the gods could not see through it, and it