Shadow Slave

1022 The Fall of Falcon Scott (40)

On the way back, Sunny couldn't help but retreat inside himself. He did not know what was happening on the surface — whether the port fortress still stood, whether the Devouring Cloud had breached the walls of the city. The very idea of a world outside of the cold, dark, muted, oppressive abyss of the ocean seemed strange and distant.

Chances were, he would have to fight again as soon as Bloodwave delivered them under the walls of Falcon Scott.

However, Sunny was too tired, both physically and mentally, to care. He just wanted to forget about everything and rest, at least for a short while.

Luckily, the killer whale seemed to be moving much slower as they ascended from the depths. That, most likely, was done for the benefit of Sunny and Naeve — even though they were Masters, they were still fundamentally humans. Neither would have died from the decompression sickness, but it could do a lot of damage to their already strained and battered bodies.

Actually, Sunny was not sure if he was even susceptible to the bends, considering how strange and tenacious his blood was. However, he welcomed the short moment of respite.

Somber and unchanging, the dark ocean remained the same as they retreated from its cold depths. The only difference Sunny could feel was the slow, gradual lessening of the pressure that weighed on him like a slab of stone. With each minute, his body seemed to become a little lighter, and breathing was a little easier.

He closed his eyes, allowing the cold currents to carry him.

'...Right. There was a Memory. I should... probably... study it before we return to the battlefield.'

Sunny was in no shape to fight, but he might have no choice but to join the battle soon. He had to use any advantage there.

He summoned the runes and watched as they shimmered in the darkness, slowly forming into coherent shapes. Before turning his attention to the Memories, he briefly checked the list of Shadows. Both Saint and Nightmare seemed to be alive. Relieved, Sunny let out a mental sigh and looked up.

A new set of runes appeared at the end of the list of his Memories.

Memory: [Shroud of Graceless Dusk].

He lingered for a moment.

'Huh.'

his arsenal named after a burial garb. Was the Spell trying to insinuate

apathetic to care, Sunny shrugged and

Memory Rank: Transcendent.

Memory Tier: VI.

Memory Type: armor.

closed his eyes again,

Memory of the Sixth Tier was the strongest he had ever received after slaying an enemy... of course, it was, since Sybil of the Fallen Grace was the

of Graceless Dusk had to be an extremely potent Memory. And it was an armor, too — something that he desperately lacked

'Lucky.'

his eyes

were the heralds of the gods and conduits of divine grace. Many mysteries were known to them, and so were many truths. There was one being, though,

their people

the Tomb of

voices of the gods grew silent one after another, leaving behind only a vast and dreadful silence. That was how the sybils embraced the Estuary, and that was how

Sunny frowned.

'That guy again...'

and the black pyramid hidden within — had something to do with Ariel, the Demon of Dread. Was the pyramid really his tomb, then? How would a daemon

of that? Its estuary was mentioned in the description of the Stifled Scream as a place where a dreadful secret had been hidden. Was this the same

those revelations obviously stopped. The timing didn't really make sense, though, because the Tomb of Ariel had

'Mysterious...'

sigh, Sunny tried to ignore the myriad of questions and turned his attention to

of Mind], (Blessing of

of Spirit], [Blessing

[Blessing of Dusk].