Shadow Slave

'Damn it… damn it all! Why did it have to be the divine flame, of all things?!'

The three of them were finally allowed into the central hall of the temple, where a tall chalice cut of a single slab of grey stone stood, full of blinding white fire. The hall was drowning in stark light, deep shadows, and suffocating heat… however, even that sweltering heat was too forgiving.

…This close to the orb of Sun God's flame, all of them should have been already turned to ash.

Sunny stared at the chalice with a grim expression, remembering the suffering he had gone through in the Sky Below. This was a true remnant of the obliterating pillar of white fire that had been brought down on the Kingdom of Hope by a god, and then continued to burn in the depths of the shattered land, slowly devouring it until nothing but an empty void remained.

The pale version of it that he was able to channel through the Cruel Sight was already immensely destructive, and this… this was the real deal.

How was the chalice even capable of containing the annihilating white star?

He shivered, and then glanced under the surface of the stone vessel, noticing an intricate weave of ancient runes glowing inside the grey stone. An enchantment… and a powerful one, at that. What kind of sorcerer had created it? Who had been powerful enough to contain a piece of divine fury?

…In any case, without knowing how to control the enchantment — if there even was a way to control it — getting the Glass Knife out was not going to be easy, or maybe even impossible. Their task just grew exponentially more difficult.

'Damn it all!'

Absorbed by the dire sight of the stone chalice, Sunny didn't even notice the three women standing in front of it for a moment or two. When he did, however, his mood dropped even further.

Turned into black silhouettes by the furious white flame burning behind them, three Ascended battle masters watched the uninvited guests with eyes full of cold, cutting killing intent.

One had red hair and wielded an odachi similar to his own, its blade forged out of vibrant scarlet steel. One had black hair and held a simple spear, its shaft covered by a complicated weave of runes. One had white hair and was unarmed.

…That last one scared him the most. Solvane, too, didn't feel the need to wield a weapon. If the first two Maidens seemed like warriors of terrifying skill, the third one… the third one gave him a sensation of being something much more than that.

vessel

the hall, remembering how it

The walls of the hall, seemingly so strong and unassailable, had been shattered outwards, suggesting that something had detonated in the center of the hall with tremendous force. The chalice itself had been destroyed,

of red silk garments, with vengeful wraiths carrying murderous fury even thousands of years after

to the Temple of the Chalice and destroyed it, slaughtering all the fearsome Maidens in the process. Had they been looking for the Glass Knife, as well? Was he going

perhaps, met

mind… that of Solvane, and

the fiend with white hair, looked at Saint with a cold expression and said, her voice echoing in the stark darkness of the

been told that you wish to retrieve the legacy of our foremothers,

a moment, then moved her

Maiden smiled, sending chills running

simple. All you have to do is prove yourself before the Chalice. Kill me, and

tilted her head a little,

a

there was a ritual to release that Glass Knife into someone's hands, after all… a trial that those seeking it had to pass. A simple duel, or rather three consecutive ones, against the senior warriors of the ancient sect. These Ascended were

true. As for whether or not Saint would be able to kill the three Ascended priestesses… he wasn't

leaders of the sect were dead,

silent, another one —

that you have the right to challenge us. You will fight, and kill,

she stopped

"...Or you will die."

triumphant smile. Three Awakened warriors were not going to pose any threat to Saint, who was an Ascended Demon, and formidable well

off. He couldn't tell what at the moment,

expression in the archer's eyes.

as they may be. Such a fight would not be a struggle for her, and as such, would not please