Shadow Slave

The slum dweller pressed his finger against his lips and hissed in exasperation:

"Take that back! Are you crazy?"

Sunny blinked.

"What? No. Well, I was crazy for a while. But now I am not."

The young man looked at him with doubt and shook his head:

"Still, don't jinx yourself. Do you at least have a Memory to keep you safe?"

The question of arming themselves was a big problem for Neph's followers. More than half of them didn't have a Memory armor or a weapon, having to make do with mundane armaments fashioned out of anything that was at hand. It was one of the reasons why fighting against the Guards and the Hunters was so hard for them.

The other guy, the one who used to pay tribute, sighed and call out to his friend:

"Have you lost your mind? You are talking to a member of Lady Nephis's personal cohort. Of course he has Memories."

With that, both of them looked down on their own makeshift swords.

These two were among those who wielded Black Claws, blades made out of the talons of the Spire Messenger Sunny and the rest had killed. Their bases were wrapped with leather, allowing a person to use the long curved talon as a weapon.

Considering that these talons came from a Fallen Monster, as far as weapons went, they were some of the best. Wielding them efficiently was not an easy task, though.

The slum dweller grimaced.

"Right. Damn! I am proud to wield one of the Black Claws, don't get me wrong. But if each of us had a proper set of Memories… those bastards wouldn't be picking us off one by one anymore, that's for sure."

a complicated expression.

Memory can change a lot, that's

turned around, the

going to save your lives, though. All of you are just

he left the two Sleepers behind, climbed

lack of Memories was a

enormous in size and had countless twisting corridors. Some were comparatively easy to navigate, while some followed

these corridors, as well as much more terrifying things.

of the Guards or the Hunters. Following in their wake, he stumbled on a few fresh bodies and regretted not killing those bastards when he had

the Castle, moving through a dark corridor with careful steps. It was then then that he heard the sounds of a struggle coming from beyond

'...Ugh, what a bother.'

for a bit, he made the turn and witnessed a scene that was typical in the ancient

was trying to kill

seemed vaguely familiar. The large man was pressing someone small and skinny to the wall, strangling them with gauntleted hands. A broken oil lantern was burning on the floor, making the shadows of

deep scratches on it, which were oozing blood. It was contorted in an expression of rage and dark delight. The face

a petite young woman with dark hair and brown eyes, which were currently full of pain and

moments before she lost consciousness, though, a hand appeared from the darkness and slid a strange transparent dagger across the

breath, rubbing her bruised

was wiping his

all like someone who had just killed another human being. There was neither disgust and fear nor delight and triumph on

the face of

her, the young

"Uh… you're Aiko, right?"

in the Castle. Back then, she had been one of the few people

automatically made her establishment popular among the members of the Host. But it was also the