Shadow Slave

Chapter 1233

Not paying the Sin of Solace any attention, Sunny bent down and studied the rune.

It was carved into the wood, but not with any kind of instrument. The grooves were deep, but crude and uneven, with rough and shaky edges. It was as if someone used their nails to scratch the rune into the wooden surface in a fit of madness.

The rune was a familiar one, too.

"Wish."

It had other meanings, too - desire, yearning, longing, aspiration... even hope, sometimes, depending on the context. Sunny knew that rune all too well. How could he not, after spending so much time on the Chained Isles?

But its most fundamental meaning was just that, a wish.

He stared at the rune for some time, thinking.

Who had carved it into the ancient wood? And why?

Had it been carved before the piece of wood he was using as a raft ended up as flotsam, or after?

What did it mean?

Sunny hesitated for a bit, then tentatively scratched at the wood with his nail. It was really tough - much tougher than mundane wood would have been. This raft of his turned out to be really sturdy. He wouldn't be able to leave a scratch on it without losing a nail or two...

"What are you doing?"

Sunny glanced at the Sin of Solace, who was looking at him with a bewildered expression.

'Playing dumb, huh?'

He pointed to the rune.

trying to hide

its

"Hide what?"

on Sunny's face, and he

You have been standing here this whole time, as if trying to prevent me from noticing

Was... was he now seeing things? Was the rune not

of Solace

priceless. What about the rune? So there is a rune. Why would I care? In fact, why

silent for a while, then let out a

Yeah, it might have possessed some meaning, like hinting at something about Hope. But a single rune was

that he

he was just trying really hard not to think about

fate of East Antarctica. Or

Or himself.

sprawled on the ancient wood

was an appalling tragedy and a personal wound for Sunny. For the first time in

and government soldiers. But with the great abominations now rampaging across the Southern Quadrant, how many of those people he had saved

this feeling...

to never have such desires again. To never have the nerve to try and force his

'So childish.'

cut perfectly, and instantly gave up on wanting to learn swordsmanship. How many thousands of swings

failure, no matter how painful, was not a

he somehow overcame his disillusionment and

years the destruction of the waking world would take - a couple, a dozen, or a hundred

this truth was so vast that

the end of the

Or was it?

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