Shadow Slave

Sunny had no clue how to create, decipher, or manipulate runic magic. His inherent ability to see the weave and inner structure of magical items, the one he had received after consuming the drop of ichor that fell from Weaver's eye, also gifted him with an innate understanding of the essence of spellweave.

While studying the Memories created by Spell, Sunny was not able to fully understand the intricate purpose of the vast patterns of ethereal strings… but he at least could intuitively feel a hint of it.

He had no such advantage when it came to other forms of sorcery. So, despite the fact that he had managed to perceive the enchantments encompassing the Red Colosseum, it was not like he could simply change them, or create new ones to counteract the old.

He could study the runes, of course… but with no teacher and only his wit and intelligence to help him draw the correct conclusions from observing various enchantments, it would take hundreds of years to gain enough insight to learn how to create any meaningful runic sorcery of his own.

Sunny, however, wasn't discouraged. Yes, he would not be able to create runic sorcery any time soon.

But destroying things was always much easier than making them.

Locked inside the narrow cage, surrounded by the smell of Nightmare Creatures and filth, Sunny stared into the darkness and thought.

Destroy the enchantments of the Red Colosseum…

In theory, it was simple to achieve. He just had to break enough runes to disrupt the paths they created for the soul energy. The problem with that, however, was that the runes Hope had used were giant, and carved into nearly unbreakable stone. Sunny doubted that he would be able to do enough damage to the arena to cause its sorcery to fail.

...Causing a smaller and temporary disruption, however, was not entirely impossible. He felt that he would be able to achieve that much, at least… perhaps enough to free himself of the binding enchantment for a second or few.

freedom be

to

waited in the darkness, a seed of a

***

four monstrous hands,

tactile sense of his fingers went through a strange metamorphosis. It was now much more nuanced, vibrant, and keen. Even though his hands

he felt a strange,

another hand, Sunny hesitated for a few moments, then pinched the air near one of his tingling fingers and tried

his surprise,

his mind's eye, a strand of darkness suddenly extended into the air, summoned by his hand. It didn't look like one of the radiant strings he was used to seeing inside Memories, and neither did it look like the flowing liquid that essence was

looked like a tenebrous fog, similar to the grey wisps that rose from Saint's armor when one of the shadows

elusive, not at all like the sharp and beautiful strings that spellweave

frowned slightly, and pulled the fog with one hand while trying to get a hold of it with the other,

this small movement instantly caused the strand to break, dissipate, and disappear,

is going to take

and durable string, emptying a small portion of his reserves with each failure. By the time morning came, he had not made any progress at all, and only managed to waste most

power was going to cost him a

glanced at the giant in a tattered red robe,

it doesn't matter. I'll be dead either way. But