Shadow Slave

Sunny almost stumbled because of the terrible realization.

Was the mutilated body inside the nest of moss… still alive?

'How could that be?'

Thousands of years must have passed since the flying ship crashed on this desolate island. How long had this poor soul suffered this harrowing torture? What sin had they committed, and who had doomed them for an eternity of ghastly suffering? How had the vines ended up growing from their flesh, and why?

But most importantly… how the hell was that mangled thing not dead?! Even divine flame was powerless to end its grisly, gruesome existence.

If Sunny could find the answer, maybe he would be able to kill the Corrupted Monster, after all.

Using the momentary lull in the onslaught of the vines that Saint's appearance had bought him, he faced away from the fight and tried to understand what the host of the abominable growth was pointing at.

He desperately hoped that the ancient human was, indeed, trying to point at something, and not just convulsing in terrible pain.

'Where is it… what is it…'

His gaze flew to a certain point on the wall of the cargo hold and lingered on it.

At first glance, there was nothing different about it. That section of the bulkhead was just like all the rest, ancient and overgrown with brown moss. But as he looked closer, he noticed a small gap in the layer of moss, as well as a strange bend to the vines growing on that particular wall.

It was as though they, too, wanted to avoid something lodged into the wooden boards.

That had to be it!

it at a sharp angle. His heart was beating like a wild beast in a cage, consumed

of slithering vines, he hesitated for

to be something… there has

that section of the wall for a

sideways to avoid another one, Sunny slashed, hacked, and tore his way through the cargo hold, feeling more wounds appearing on his

toxin. Well… it was miraculous enough that he could withstand it at all, considering that the poison came from a creature two whole Ranks above Sunny. Weaver's lineage was,

overgrown bulkhead near the small gap in the brown moss. Drawing in a

'Wait… is it?'

His eyes widened slightly.

to be a splinter turned out to be

someone's hand, was a rather

knife that lay on the white altar of the Sanctuary of Noctis, except for the fact that this one wasn't cut from

also wasn't

had somehow grown in the shape of a knife, and was then broken off to become

'What does it mean?'

remain confused and perplexed for a split

it all... please don't tell me that I need a thousand coins to lift this

need for an offering. Although it took some effort, a moment later, the wooden blade slid from where it was thrust into the wall, and Sunny found himself holding the Cruel

Something else happened, though.

on the wooden handle, all the vines in the cargo hold surged in his direction with frenzied fury, utterly forgetting about Saint

Sunny paled.

'Crap!'

of slithering vines could crush him, he abandoned all attempts to escape and thrust his hand forward

knife slipped from his grip, cut a sharp arc in the air, and was nimbly

the taciturn demon immediately dashed toward the pulsating mass of brown