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."

him with a

Memory can change a

turned around, the smile disappeared from his

your lives, though. All of you are just walking

he left the two Sleepers behind, climbed over the barricade,

they were right. The lack of Memories was a big

Bright Castle was enormous in size and had countless twisting corridors. Some were comparatively easy to navigate, while some followed no apparent logic. There were tall

as much more terrifying things. Disturbing sounds sometimes echoed through the stone

or the Hunters. Following in their wake, he stumbled on a few fresh bodies and regretted

Castle, moving through a dark corridor with

'...Ugh, what a bother.'

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

was trying

this case, it was a burly Guard that 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

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

a petite young woman with dark hair and brown

and slid a strange transparent dagger across the Guard's throat. Hot blood shot into the air, and he fell to the ground with

rubbing her bruised neck. A few moments later, she looked

face and dark, strangely magnetic eyes. Currently, he was wiping his dagger on the sleeve of his armor and staring at the dying Guard with

nonchalant, not at all like someone who had just killed another human being. There was neither disgust and fear nor delight and triumph on

was the face of a

the

"Uh… you're Aiko, right?"

wounded. He knew her a bit from his days in the Castle. Back then, she had been one of the few people who were able to pay tribute without worrying about making enough shards to do so the

establishment popular among the members of the Host. But it was also the reason why many of them harbored