Shadow Slave

Chapter 611

After a while, shrouded in darkness, Elyas suddenly spoke, addressing Sunny in his usual one-sided manner.

In the past weeks, the young Awakened had developed a habit of sometimes speaking to his demonic partner, even though the frightening creature could not respond with anything more than an occasional nod, a shake of the head, or an indifferent shrug. Talking to Shadow was not much of a conversation, but...

Perhaps this was one of the few things that were keeping him sane.

…Sunny could understand why the youth had to do that, since his own inability to talk was one of the things that were driving him mad, that was robbing him of even more of his humanity.

"Hey, demon. Do you… do you think it's true? About the wooden sword…"

Sunny stared at the young man, then shrugged. He had no opinion on that topic, since he didn't know what the wooden sword was.

Elyas sighed.

"Before the Warmongers captured us, I had heard of their cruel Trials. Everyone back home has, really. The horrors of the Red Colosseum is something every parent tells their children, to make them behave."

He grew silent, and then continued after some time, his voice even:

"...But they also say that there is a way to escape this terrible place. If one is brave enough… if they are righteous enough… then they would eventually be given a wooden sword, and earn the right to fight for their freedom."

shifted slightly, tilting

a nice fairy

deceiving himself if he thought that the worshippers of War were going to just let

understood it

Warriors — or Warmongers, as Elyas called them — to understand that they were not evil people,

the most glorious thing. That was why they were happy and joyful when watching their new favorite, Shadow, slaughter

while struggling against an overwhelming foe was the highest form of glory. Dying by his hand was

thing more righteous than being killed by a stronger enemy… was to

slaves were not forced to slaughter each other for the entertainment of the crowd. Instead, they were generously

free of the colosseum. Doing so would be the greatest sin, a shameful offense that the Warmongers, in their perverse benevolence, would

have been the vilest

'Damned lunatics…'

that this murderous sect had been born here, in the Kingdom of Hope. The slavers he had met in the

strange place throughout, from what little he had

only the name remained. People

that their duty was

led by seven lords. Or rather, five, since two had already

surrounded by a large city — the beautiful city of aerial bridges and white aqueducts that he had seen rebuild itself from ashes at the start fo the Nightmare.

The Novel will be updated daily. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

Comments ()

0/255