Shadow Slave

Chapter 602

'Slow down there, lady…'

Sunny tried to take a step back, but ended it staggering and almost falling down. Somehow, he managed to keep his balance, crouching as his talons dug into the ground. His four arms rose, sharp claws aimed at Solvane.

All that talk of glory and death made him very, very tense.

'Solvane… wait. Solvane?'

A low growl escaped from Sunny's mouth as he realized who was standing in front of him. So this beautiful, graceful woman… she was the ghastly living corpse he had destroyed in the cargo hold of the crashed ship? Or rather… would be?

He had traveled into the past of the Chained Isles, after all, or at least an illusory reenactment of it. It made sense that Solvane had not succumbed to her harrowing fate.

...Yet.

Sunny shivered, remembering the silent pleading and boundless torment in the empty eyes of the Wormvine's host. How could those terrible eyes be the same as the radiant ones looking at him right now?

Suddenly, he was overwhelmed by pity, compassion, and sorrow.

And fear.

Because if he was right and this was really the same Solvane, then this dazzling stranger who had just promised to gift him a glorious death… was a Saint.

And a Saint promising to kill him was not something Sunny had ever wanted to hear.

He peered beneath the surface of Solvane's lovely figure, and saw a single sphere of light burning brightly in her chest, so radiant as to appear almost blinding. Her soul core… the soul core of a Transcendent.

His vertical pupils narrowed, a single thought ringing in his mind:

'Run!'

his body was much more powerful than his own, inhumanly so, but without knowing how to properly control it, outrunning a Saint was out of the question. If it had ever been. So, his only hope

appeared near, a graceful hand falling from above to grasp one of his arms into

of a Saint was as inevitable and inescapable

and summoning any Memory would have taken too long to be of

All except for one.

appeared in his trapped hand and awkwardly shot upward, leaving a thin scratch on Sovane's

slowly welling with blood, a single crimson drop falling on the verdant

blood was made, on the altar of War.

she

other hand moved forward,

world exploded with pain,

***

Shadows… shadows…

surrounded by

Some were small, and

one of

legion of shadows, all hidden in one vast and lightless soul. Silent and tranquil, free of all burdens. Free of all desires, free of

For now…

'Ugh… my head hurts…'

then, the steady beating of his hearts. Hearts?

large, too cumbersome, and too strange. Something hard and cold was pressed against it, making him feel a dull pain in his limbs. His head ached, too, as if he had been struck on it hard enough to shatter

had been. Had he

Solvane, hit him. She

if I am dead? What nonsense

to chase the pain away. But it remained. Why wouldn't it disappear? It wasn't

Unless… he wasn't dead.

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