Shadow Slave

The sun was slowly drowning in the darkness of the void, and as it did, a veil of shadows was devouring the world. The western horizon was still aflame with the scarlet pyre of the sunset, but the somber night was already approaching from the east.

On a desolate island covered by tall pillars of jagged rock, a numinous temple stood, its beautiful stone walls painted red by the light of the drowning sun. All around it, countless swords were thrust into the petrous ground, rising from it like a solemn graveyard of steel.

There was only one path through the forest of blades, and as the twilight of dusk approached it, a dull, echoing ringing suddenly resounded from the darkness, then traveled through it, slowly growing closer and closer.

It was the sound of adamantine hooves ringing against stone.

Soon, four crimson flames ignited in the shadows, and then revealed themselves to be four eyes. Two belonged to a stygian destrier, the other two to its dark rider.

The steed was black as night, with dreadful horns crowning its head. It walked forward with a steady pace, fearsome and noble, lean muscles rolling under its lusterless coat. The rider was a graceful woman in intricate onyx armor, her face hidden behind the visor of a closed helmet, with only ruby lights shining through it with indifferent resolve. Her presence was both calm and fearsome, full of quiet confidence and frightening strength.

The blade of a great odachi rested on her shoulder, its steel as dark as the heart of the night.

…Two steps behind the taciturn knight, two creatures walked with their gazes lowered to the ground. One was a towering, four-armed demon dressed in a black kimono, his dark hair tied with a silk ribbon. The other was a strange human with skin that resembled polished bark, wearing a fitting dark garment made of soft silk, his disfigured face hidden behind a wooden mask and drowning in the shadow of a deep hood. Neither of them was armed.

The dark knight led her horse to the first steps of the path through the graveyard of swords and stopped, waiting. Her ruby eyes burned with cold calmness, as if the woman had a heart made of stone, incapable of feeling fear, unease, or trepidation.

Her servants, however, were not as aloof. Both stole glances at the magnificent stone temple, tension clearly written on their faces. A few moments later, the human asked quietly:

"It is too late to turn back, isn't it?"

The demon did not respond… not that he was capable of speaking in the human tongue. Instead, he simply nodded, then froze, as if sensing something. The other servant sighed and grew silent, as well.

one and nothing around them, just the pillars of jagged rocks and the swords thrust into the ground. The island was awash in the bloodred radiance of the dying sunset, with deep shadows nesting in the spots from where the sunlight had already fled. A gust of wind suddenly blew, bringing with

then, out of nowhere, they were surrounded by a dozen

of them were beautiful women, wearing light garments made of red silk. Their bodies were slender and supple, their skin smooth and soft… the sight of them might have been

Sunny shivered.

'...Damnation.'

screaming that they represented mortal danger. However, Sunny did not need the help of his enhanced sixth sense to

sensation, as well as Auro of the Nine, Master Jet, Nephis, and a couple of others, all of them elite combatants of the highest tier. Some of these fiends he had fought and somehow survived, but not

right now, he was staring at twelve of such monsters… and these were just the sentinels, no doubt. Who knew what kind of battle saints would he meet inside

this sect had been

to not make any sudden movements and continued staring at the ground. His role during this part was

her head slightly and looked down at the

of them, a tall woman with red hair and eyes the color of steel, frowned a little,

you to the Temple of the Chalice,

silent. Instead, Kai took a step forward and bowed, then spoke, his ugly voice

"Greetings, warriors. My lady…"

looked at him

you

then straightened and looked at the woman from

to those who bested her in combat… and

moments, studying Saint's graceful and fearsome

not have fought anyone worth fighting, then.