Shadow Slave

1021 The Fall of Falcon Scott (39)

The voice of the Spell resounded in the boundless darkness of the ocean, making Sunny shudder.

[You have slain a Corrupted Terror, Sybil of the Fallen Grace.] [...Your shadow grows stronger.]

As the veiled body drifted down, wreathed in billowing white silk, one last whisper brushed against his ears:

[You have received a Memory.]

The Terror was falling down, deeper and deeper into the cold abyss. Sunny spared one last glance at the pallid blossom of the great burial shroud, knowing that it would be consumed forever by the dark depths soon. Then, he turned away and tiredly pushed himself in the opposite direction.

Sunny... was not in great shape.

His mind was slowly recovering from the dreadful mental assault, but his head was in the throes of a splitting headache thanks to catching the smallest glimpse of the tapestry of fate. His body felt weak and feverish, still suffering from the backlash of draining all of his essence.

There were the remnants of the trauma caused by touching a Nightmare Gate, as well. Sunny felt like he was about to cough his lungs out. Holding it back was not an easy task...

And yet, a hint of dark, somber glee still managed to overcome the cold numbness that encompassed his battered mind.

'...I did it. I killed that vile thing.'

In the end, he ended the Terror with his own hands. The stain of their disastrous first meeting had not been erased, but his failure at LO49 was... vindicated, now. Somewhat.

Or rather, it would be if he managed to return to the surface alive.

ocean around him, Sunny was not sure that he would be able to

'Curses.'

the Fallen Grace... was dead and drifting lifelessly into the lightless depths. However, its thralls had not perished with their master. They seemed directionless and sapped

especially without the active enchantment of the Nimble Catch, Sunny did not count his chances against the creatures as high. A dark grimace

'Essence! I need essence...'

Sunny dismissed Weaver's Mask and the Shadow Lantern. A tiny stream of essence fell into the arid desert of his drained soul, and was instantly consumed by his body. The feeling of weakness diminished a little, but not nearly enough

thralls were already coming to their senses, their hollow eyes peering through the mass of dark water at

'Bloodwave and Naeve?'

against all hope to see

drifting

The Saint, however...

jerked his head sideways. The span of white cloth still wrapped around it slid off, revealing the great beast's glowing blue eyes. For a moment, they seemed disoriented, but then sharp intelligence shone through the fog of

escaped from Bloodwave's mouth as he gazed at the drowning remains of the Terror and the approaching swarm of the

with its bulky mass. The enormous jaws

a one-sided massacre took

seconds that his participation wasn't required. Instead of getting in the way, he swam closer to Naeve,

"S—sunless?"

but he was conscious, at least. Sunny nodded, then turned the two of them so that Naeve could

few seconds of silence, he heard the

"What... about... the Terror?"

a moment, then dragged his finger

"Ah... good..."

Watching a Saint in action was a... sobering experience, to

dealt with the fearsome Transcendent,