Shadow Slave

The opening ceremony of the tournament was supposed to be a spectacular event, with thousands of challengers — each of them a talented Awakened fighter — gathered in the magnificent central courtyard of the illusory Bastion. Slightly more than a thousand of them were those participating in the individual competition, and the rest were members of competing cohorts.

The representative of the great clan Valor welcomed them and gave a short speech, after which an androgynous person of undetermined age in exquisite silk garments — the eccentric Saint responsible for creating the Dreamscape — followed suit. This Transcendent had a hypnotically beautiful face that was, for some reason, plastered with an unreasonable amount of makeup, and a genteel, almost effeminate bearing.

If Sunny was there, he would recognize their pleasant voice as the one that read all the announcements in the Dreamscape.

But he wasn't.

Why would he waste time on these theatrics? He skipped the speeches, the performances, the incredible montage of the most exciting moments from the battles of the previous day, and even the event that everyone had been waiting for with bated breath — the formation of the tournament bracket that would determine who would face whom and in what order.

Sunny didn't care who was going to fight him, he just wanted to kill somebody as soon as possible.

With each round of duels, half of the participants were going to be eliminated. That meant that he had to win ten consecutive fights to receive the best reward. Of course, it wasn't an easy task… by now, there were no amateurs remaining in the tournament. Every single one of the thousand challengers was a formidable warrior, and by the end of it, only true talents would remain.

It was also a perfect chance for him to try and learn their polished battle styles.

Sunny waited until the bracket was almost complete and finally dove into the Dreamscape. The menacing black figure of Mongrel appeared among the crowd of challengers, causing a bit of a stir. Immediately, those closest to him began to whisper.

"Hey! It's him!"

"Man. The bastard is even scarier in real life. That scene from the montage... gods, I'm so glad we chose to enter the tournament as a cohort!"

"Ptui! What's the big deal? I hope I draw him as an opponent… crushing this wannabe should be fun…"

Ignoring the whispers, Sunny looked around with curiosity. He wasn't interested in the people gathered around him, but in the courtyard itself. This was his first time inside Bastion… well, an illusory version of it. Still, he couldn't help but feel a bit of awe. This was a legendary place… one of the earliest Citadels conquered by humans, their greatest foothold in the Dream Realm. The seat of a Great Clan's power.

...And the former stronghold of one of the daemons.

It was like he was part of history.

didn't last long, however,

girl! What does

itching to slaughter

complete. Sunny didn't bother to study it and just prepared himself

in the courtyard again — only this time, the

in the air, and thousands of excited spectators looking down from

was a young man in a striking bloodred armor, wielding a long espadon. His

saw the black mask, his face

would

dashed forward, raising the Soul

into the air, the audience exploded with cheers,

Paradise in Red was

***

producer of the broadcast addressed him through the earpiece, forcing the young man to blink a couple

seems we already have a win! Wow, that

that ended before the voice of the Dreamscape could even introduce the fighters. That was a first

course, it was Mongrel.

His colleague laughed.

for his opponent! I hope that he is not disheartened. There is no shame in losing to such a fearsome enemy… everyone who made it through the qualifying rounds already deserves our respect. Back in my day,

in black armor standing motionlessly

him, or did Mongrel look

is a Nightmare

several other heated duels were shown. Syclus and Dimi switched from commentating on them to commercial breaks, to sometimes joining the other

left disappointed. In that duel — and during a couple of next ones as well — the enigmatic swordsman seemed to lose all his edge, and engaged in protracted, slow, exhausting battles with his opponents, only managing

Mongrel fan, but not a diehard follower, was a bit confused

he had an

a sudden? After his performance yesterday, I was sure that we will see pure carnage

The older man chuckled.