Shadow Slave

The Glass Knife contained the string of fate that belonged to Sevirax, the Chain Lord of the Ivory City. It was his death, which the War Maidens had received from the Saint of Shadows hundreds of years ago.

Now, two Shadows came back to retrieve it.

Sunny suspected that none of the sect members that had been alive all those centuries ago lived still, including the particular Maiden to whom Shadow Lord had sent the Glass Knife before taking his own life. As such, none would remember the four-armed demon who had delivered it… most likely.

And yet, the current disciples of the cult had to know what was being kept in their temple, and how it got there. So, there was a chance that they will just hand it over to the original owners… no matter how slim.

If not, they would allow Saint and her entourage inside, at least.

That was Sunny's hope, and judging by the fact that the Maidens did not immediately attack after hearing Kai's provocative statement, his calculations were not wrong.

The tall woman who had spoken to them grew still as soon as the Glass Knife was mentioned, a somber expression appearing on her face. She studied Saint's motionless figure, then said coldly, her raspy voice growing slightly hoarse:

"...So the day has come. How fortunate we are, to witness it! Someone finally dares to challenge the Red Sect for the ownership of the ancient relic. Who knew that I would witness this children's story come true?"

She smiled darkly, then tilted her head, no humor in her sharp, grey eyes.

"...However, you are wrong, Shadow. The Glass Blade does not belong to you, or any of your kin. It had been entrusted to our foremother, who passed on the duty of protecting it to her wards, and through them, to us."

The woman lingered, then sighed.

to put you in yours. Come, demoness. Let me welcome you to

leader as she turned to walk on the path through the graveyard of swords. Surrounded by them, Saint, Sunny, and Kai had no choice but to walk forward. After a

the fact that the beautiful female warriors had sheathed their swords, their hostility remained aimed at the three

'What an unfriendly bunch…'

he felt that each of these weapons had a history… a violent story of battle and bloodshed that ended in death. Perhaps some of these blades had once belonged to the War Maidens of the past, but most must have been wielded by those warriors slain by

swords thrust into the ground around the

inside. Sunny was somewhat familiar with the interior of the ancient shrine, but it was hard to bring together two pictures that lived in his mind — one of a desolate

entrance hall, where Saint followed

grey eyes glanced at her and smiled

inform the elders of your arrival.

***

the blade of the Soul Serpent resting on her shoulder, motionless like a beautiful statue cut of black onyx. Her presence was aloof and indifferent, as though the three of them were not surrounded from all sides by fearsome warriors, with no way to

remained, surrounding them in a wide circle. Their faces were calm, but their

his shadows to scout around the temple… however,

could be heard… the sound of something blunt hitting flesh, over and over again, and an occasional rattle of chains. Disturbed, he

Saint, his face hidden in the shadow of a deep hood. His pose seemed both polite and relaxed, however, Sunny could feel a strange

his hand slightly,

lingered for a moment, then spoke in the language of the waking world without turning his

"...Yes, I found it."