Shadow Slave

Sunny was not sure that he was buying what Ananke believed... but at the same time, he couldn't completely discard it.

'Damn Weaver...'

Just why did the creator of the Spell have to be a nebulous and elusive creature - not only surrounded in mystery, but also obsessed with lies? Could there be anyone more untrustworthy? Even though Sunny had inherited Weaver's forbidden Lineage, wore Weaver's Mask, and had a high affinity to fate, which was Weaver's Domain... he still knew close to nothing about the Demon of Fate.

Where had Weaver come from? Who hid behind the fearsome black mask? What motives had guided them? What goals had they pursued?

He shook his head with resignation and looked at Ananke, frowning.

'Whatever. If I can't learn about Weaver, I should at least learn everything else.'

Sunny collected his thoughts before asking the next question.

"Grandmother, you said that the purpose of the Nightmare Spell is to save the future from the doom of the great war between the daemons and the gods. To be honest... I am not entirely sure what that really means. What exactly is that doom? What made the war so terrible?"

The old woman gazed at the flowing expanse of the Great River, lingered for a moment, and sighed.

"It was indeed terrible. Of course, I have not experienced the horror of those days myself. What I do know was passed down to me from my elders, who had... granted, they escaped the war before the end came, so even they didn't know how and why the true devastation happened."

catch her breath, then continued in her

really knows what resentment pushed the daemons to rise against the gods. It happened soon after the Demon of Desire escaped her chains. The youngest among them, the Demon of

the steering oar a little, her frail hand as dark as the polished

But, truly, things weren't going well long before their rebellion. Most of the gods had grown... distant, and people quarreled with each other, forgetting the days when everything stood together against the

distant, as if the old woman was imagining the wide world that

that war... was that they were not immediately defeated. After all, there were many lesser deities, but none of them were as feared as the daemons - let alone if six of them united. Others

The old woman trembled.

and merciless. Many realms had become battlefields and were devoured by flames. But... the worst was still to come. Because instead of coming to a conclusion, the war only continued to grow fiercer. Those loyal to the gods took up arms, and in response, the Demons recruited more allies - mortal champions who had suffered the tyranny of

waters of the Great River and remained silent for a

the fields turned to deserts, the rivers dried up. A passing blow from the fighting deities could destroy entire cities. Over time, countless humans were displaced or lost their lives. That was when we started calling it the Doom War, believing that it would become the end of everything... it was also when

from the sky. Was that radiant creature one of the soldiers in the dreadful war between the six daemons

Or... an actual angel?

Shore was happening all across the Dream Realm, then it was no

Ananke sighed.

the followers of the gods, the followers of the daemons, and even those who did not want anything to do with the war. We, the priests of the Nightmare Spell, were despised as well. Few listened to us... still, some did. The

Sunny tilted his head.

"...Alluring?"

The old woman nodded.