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.

you trying to hide it from

its head in

"Hide what?"

on Sunny's face,

bastard! You have been standing here this whole

hint of doubt. Was... was he now seeing things? Was the rune not really

Sin of Solace

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

frowned, remained silent for a while, then let out a

meaning, like hinting at

was just so bored that he made a big deal out

just trying really hard not to think about

fate of East

Or himself.

sprawled on the ancient wood and stared into the

and a personal wound for Sunny. For the first time in his life, he had tried to act upon his

civilians and government soldiers. But with the great abominations now rampaging across the Southern Quadrant, how many of those

feeling... how

want to never have such desires again. To never have the

'So childish.'

gave up on wanting to learn swordsmanship. How many thousands of swings had it taken him to

matter how painful, was not a

his disillusionment and numbness... the cruel truth remained

did not know how many years the destruction of the waking

so vast that he could not even really comprehend

was the end of the

Or was it?

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