Shadow Slave

1512 Chaos and Mayhem

Somewhere far away, Mordret was in a similar situation. Of course, he did not possess the physical strength, speed, and resilience of Changing Star of the Immortal Flame clan… however, he did possess his own arsenal of tricks.

'I wonder…'

He had escaped into a section of the city where the ground had been broken by some titanic blow. Shallow water covered the cracked cobblestones, with ruined buildings rising from it like islands. The twilight sky reflected in the water, turning it into a beautiful painting of soft colors.

Mordret was using the reflections to stay ahead of his pursuers.

Countless human figures were surrounding him, their weapons hungry for his blood.

'If I try to possess one of them, what would happen?'

Usually, he would have to bet his life against the soul of his victim, armed only with their reflected power. But these warriors had no souls — they had long been destroyed by Soul Stealer… that impostor. So, would Mordret have to battle against the soul of the Defiled Saint? Or the reflection of the dead victim's soul? Whose power would he be able to reflect?

He was both curious and reluctant to find out.

'Not just yet, at least.'

Dodging a swift sword, Mordret pierced the attacker's throat, dodged another strike, and jumped back. A subtle frown appeared on his face.

'Inconvenient…'

The worst part about slaughtering these hollow vessels was that they were just that — vessels. There were no souls inside the bodies of the taken warriors, and so, he was not growing stronger from killing them. Otherwise, Mordret would have been able to slowly restore his Monster Core… maybe even the Demon Core, if he was diligent and lucky.

With those, he could create a new Reflection or two. Without them, things were proving difficult.

He would have preferred slaughtering actual people, instead.

'What was it that Sunless likes to say?'

He emotionlessly cut down a young woman wearing an archaic garment and sighed.

'Damnation?'

them with one hand… all Mordret could do was flee. Stepping into the reflected sky, he appeared a few

has

Stealer taken these

as he finished off a lumbering monstrosity. Finally, he felt his

the souls of those already taken by the Defilement was harder? No, it wouldn't be… Mordret had slain plenty of Nightmare Creatures that way himself. So, it had to be because it was

Why?

He lingered suddenly.

'Don't tell me…'

Ascension could be infected by the Defilement during the soul battle, all but dooming

facing Soul Stealer. Becoming Defiled? Mordret wanted none of that. Because it ran contrary to his goals,

of power that Mordret struggled to fathom. However, he

tenth of his skill with the sword. Gone were his cunning, his foresight, his resolve… and those were much more valuable than

— or perhaps splitting his soul between countless beings, both humans and abominations alike — had rotted Soul Stealer's mind, turning him

the carapace of another Nightmare Creature. He had killed a few already, using the rest to stall the Soul Stealer's vessels, but this

'Ah…'

the water. Then, he pulled a human body out of it

ignited with sinister intelligence. A moment

familiar body of Squire Warren, and wielding his Aspect, he dove

a few dozen more… and I'll become

dashed away, escaping before the dying Nightmare Creature crushed him with its weight. It was okay if Warren's body was destroyed — he had plenty

what was

coldly kill the Defiled, his expression grew

them? So what

survive, let alone win. Even his usual path of escape was cut off, since Soul Stealer was

we all going to die here, in

bit too ironic? Poetic, even.

kept Mordret's spirit up, though. It

might have had others fooled, but he knew that the blind witch was not as simple as she looked. Someone like her had to have something planned, without a doubt… she

them was easy to perceive through divination… how else would that monster have escaped Torment's gaze and

'Ah… I don't know.'