Shadow Slave

1173 Red Herring

Sunny was watching the battleship move across the tumultuous surface of the ocean.

But, of course, he was watching other things at the same time as well.

His shadows were spread throughout the port fortress, absorbing all kinds of information.

One was hidden in the barrel of an overheated rail gun, watching Nightmare Creatures laying siege to the walls of the stronghold. A deathly downpour of projectiles, both mundane and magical, was falling on the surging mass of attacking abominations. Figures of Knights could be seen within the horde, moving to eliminate the most dangerous targets. Saint Gilead was also there, clad in a suit of lustrous armor, facing the Nightmare Creatures like a bastion of immovable courage and steel. It was a familiar scene.

Another shadow was with the refugees who were nervously waiting for their turn to board the ships. The sounds of the battle were too oppressive to talk freely, but they couldn't help but whisper, sharing their fears and hopes. Sunny listened carefully, assessing the changes in the mood of the civilians, as well as how they perceived the conflict.

From time to time, he managed to learn something interesting from the rumors spreading among the refugees.

A third shadow was with Nephis, who had entered the field hospital beneath the fortress wall some time ago. She was kneeling in front of a bloodied stretcher, holding her hands above the terrible wounds covering the body of a mundane soldier. A soft radiance emanated from beneath her skin, and the wounds of the young man were swiftly closing. Her face was motionless and pale.

There were many people behind her who had been in the throes of suffering not too long ago, but were now healthy and whole. They were looking at her with eyes in which indescribable relief mixed with awe and reverence in equal measure.

The fourth shadow was with Sunny himself.

chamber where Morgan had gone a dozen or so minutes ago. Usually,

was

give battle to a large horde of migrating Nightmare Creatures

was because today, Saint Madoc had returned from his clandestine mission in the territory of Clan

vessel of Mordret, one of his reflections, or simply a diversion meant to sow confusion among

was going to dispel his doubts once

but it did

the ocean, noticing a disaffectionate expression on Saint

trap from the very beginning. Which would not have been too inconvenient if Ascended Bast was, indeed, the abomination. However, he was not.

leaned back and sighed. "Still. It couldn't be helped. We had to eliminate

lingered for a few moments, then asked: "How

face. Throwing a quick glance at the young woman, he chuckled. "You don't have to worry about this old man, Morgan. Silent Stalker and Dire Fang were there… I could not leave without saying

tilted his head a little.

arrogance if Madoc was powerful enough to back up his words, and lethal enough to make each of them

question remained. If Ascended Bast had nothing to do with

that person with a truly powerful obscuring

has something to do with that… you can't forget what Rank his Aspect

closer than we think, too. These strange attacks we suffered recently — weren't our diviners strangely unable to ascertain anything about them? It can't be a