Shadow Slave

Sunny was standing on the floor of a vast oval arena. It was covered by sand, which had long ago turned red from all the blood spilled between these ancient walls. The merciless sun burned in the incandescent sky, and the smell of sweat, blood, and death assaulted his nostrils.

'How... realistic.'

A little disturbed, Sunny looked around and saw tall amphitheater stands rising high above the blood-soaked arena. Those were the spectator seats. A crowd was cheering from them, their voices full of macabre fascination, cruelty, and glee. Both men and women were dressed in archaic robes that left their arms and shoulders bare. With bloodthirsty smiles contorting their features, they looked like a horde of lustful demons.

Well… not all of them. Here and there, a strangely clothed person could be seen, observing the fights with a less barbaric expression. The people in archaic clothes were illusions, while the rest were actual observers.

One didn't have to be connected to the Dreamscape to spectate the duels, but some quirky fans preferred to be there in person to achieve the feeling of maximum immersion.

'Lunatics. Those damn simulation pods are too costly to use them for spectating…'

Even though Sunny wasn't poor anymore, seeing such extravagance still pained him. Shaking his head, he finally turned his attention to the arena itself.

Obviously, this illusory environment wasn't very original, but on the other hand, it was a classic. More advanced dreams had vastly different decorations, ranging from realistic to completely fantastical, but for this low-level one, the company running Dreamscape chose a pretty basic narrative.

It was an ancient coliseum — a place where slaves had once fought to entertain their masters, often to the death.

Sunny didn't like it one bit.

The Colosseum was based on a historical structure, but was much larger. Hundreds upon hundreds of warriors roamed the sand of the battle arena, some engaged in fights, some searching for an opponent.

Out here in the Colosseum, most of the participants were Awakened of high enough skill to be considered the elite among the amateurs, but not skillful enough to enter the professional leagues. Just what Sunny was looking for... maybe. Overall, while many of the duelists in the Dreamscape were talented fighters, at the end of the day, there were very few true masters among them.

Real elites spilled blood in the Dream Realm, not in an illusion that had been conjured for the purpose of entertainment. So the level of competency of these people remained to be seen.

Commanding the Soul Serpent to assume the form of the fearsome odachi, Sunny put the blade of the great sword on his shoulder and waited to be challenged. Due to his menacing black armor and fearsome mask, however, people seemed to be reluctant to approach.

At least for a while.

Soon, a young swordsman in a striking bloodred armor approached, a long and graceful espadon resting on his shoulder. With a smile, he looked at Sunny and said:

"Haven't seen you around before… Mongrel? Are you new to the Coliseum?"

and studied the letters that appeared

"Paradise in Red"

"Victories: 157"

"Defeats: 103"

'Good enough.'

odachi, he answered in an

was born

smiled, then stepped

welcome you

the Dreamscape immediately spoke, announcing

in Red

clashed on the bloodied sand, moving with enough speed to cause the

shadows on the ground, and wrapped another one around the Autumn Leaf, where it could do him no good — he didn't want to be too strong, so that his opponents were not completely outmatched and could properly

and the grounded technique that he had learned from Saint, relying only on his ability

Red was not a master of swordsmanship, but his skill level was not bad. Still, the young man wasn't a match for Sunny, even though he had to forego his practiced techniques and wasn't used to wielding

nature, using it required a lot of adjustment. It was potentially far more devastating than any shorter blade could ever hope to be, but at the same time, demanded much more skill and strategy to be wielded efficiently. Any strike it delivered was potentially deadly, but so was

the sword. In the end, however, the strain of the duel turned out to be too much for the other fighter — he wasn't very

ended the duel with

flashed across the enemy's neck, sending his

beheaded corpse fell to the ground in a rain of

the

"Mongrel has won!"

'Too bad…'

he would face another practitioner of this battle art eventually. There were not that many popular styles among the amateurs, after all. A few days or weeks later, he was bound to

more challengers approached. Sunny flourished the Soul Serpent, then stopped it abruptly midair. Drops of blood flew to the sand, leaving the

mask,

Good thing that I learned

***

Are you even

the sand, blood flowing from his

cutting through the opponent's light armor

the corpse disappeared, he cleaned the curved blade of the odachi with a