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."

with a complicated expression. Then,

change a

as he turned around, the

not going to save your lives, though. All of you

he left the two Sleepers behind, climbed over

they were right. The lack of Memories was a big

was enormous in size and had countless twisting corridors. Some were comparatively

their hearts prowling these corridors, as well as much more terrifying things. Disturbing sounds sometimes echoed through the stone

Following in their wake,

moving through a dark corridor with careful steps. It was then then that he heard the

'...Ugh, what a bother.'

a scene that was typical in the ancient citadel

was trying to kill

was pressing someone small and skinny to the wall, strangling them with gauntleted hands. A broken oil

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

dark hair and brown eyes, which were currently full of pain

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

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

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

being. There was neither disgust

the face of a

to her, the young

"Uh… you're Aiko, right?"

the Castle. Back then, she had been one of the few people who were able to

owned the only gambling den in the Dark City, which automatically made her establishment popular among the members of the Host. But it