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.

yours. Come, demoness. Let me welcome you

through the graveyard of swords. Surrounded by them, Saint, Sunny, and Kai had no choice but to walk forward. After a few moments, the taciturn

remained aimed at the three strangers, and

'What an unfriendly bunch…'

into the ground all around them. Somehow, 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

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

where Saint followed his command and

eyes glanced at

the elders of your arrival.

***

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

the rest of the sentinels remained, surrounding them in a wide circle. Their faces were calm, but their eyes remained sharp, steady

one of his shadows to scout around the temple… however, he also didn't need to. Instead, he listened to the sounds

sound could be heard… the sound of something blunt hitting flesh, over

shadow of a deep hood. His pose seemed both polite and relaxed,

then moved his hand

then spoke in the language of the waking world without

"...Yes, I found it."