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!

a splinter of wood sticking out of it at a sharp angle. His

slithering vines, he hesitated for a moment, and then rushed toward the wall instead of joining

to be something… there has

section of the

an attacking vine and staggering sideways to avoid another one, Sunny slashed, hacked, and tore his way through the

the poison came from a creature two whole Ranks above Sunny. Weaver's lineage was, indeed, a terrifying thing. Maybe there was a reason

sliced through the last vine in his way, leaving it broken and singed, and crashed into the overgrown bulkhead near the small gap in the brown moss. Drawing in

'Wait… is it?'

His eyes widened slightly.

be a splinter turned out

the cargo hold, thrust deeply into it by someone's hand, was a rather

as the knife that lay on the white altar of the Sanctuary of Noctis, except for the

wasn't cut from

wood, as if a tree branch had somehow grown in the shape of a knife, and

'What does it mean?'

himself to remain confused and perplexed for a split second, and then decisively grabbed the handle of

Damn it all... please don't tell me that I need

some effort, a moment later, the wooden blade slid from where it was thrust into the wall, and Sunny found himself holding the

Something else happened, though.

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

Sunny paled.

'Crap!'

the mass of slithering vines could crush him, he abandoned all attempts to escape and

from his grip, cut a sharp arc in the air, and was nimbly caught by

taciturn demon immediately dashed toward the pulsating