Shadow Slave

1520 Dreadful Soul

'What a sight…'

Mordret watched as Nightingale, picturesque despite being bloodied and covered in dust, drew his bow and let an arrow loose.

He had fled to the floating fortress after noticing the Denial Amulet fused into the Dread Lord's scales — and just in time. Something truly curious had happened in Twilight, destroying all the reflections he could have used to take a look. It was probably Changing Star's fault… or Soul Stealer's fault. In any case, Mordret would have been burned to a crisp if he had not left the city.

After traversing the still water and reaching the fortress, he hid in the reflections and observed what was happening inside. Sunless was fighting like a madman… more of a madman than he usually was… while the Dread Lord viciously mauled and battered him.

Truly, it was a miracle that Sunless had been able to battle the tyrant of Verge for so long, and even deliver countless wounds to the mighty dragon. What other Master could have done the same? That guy really boggled the mind.

Nevertheless, there was something strange about their fight. The Defiled Saint could have gone for the kill a long time ago, but he was restraining himself. Probably because he wanted to capture Sunless alive.

And make him a slave again.

That made sense. Although Mordret mostly knew about the Six Plagues from the records he had spied in the frozen reflection of Twilight, the Mad Prince seemed to have been the deterrence the tyrant of Verge used to keep the other five Defiled champions in check… especially Soul Stealer.

Now that Soul Stealer had finally turned on him, Sunless and his sinister soul were the best weapon the Dread Lord could use against the rebellious fiend.

Mordret studied Nightingale for a while, amused.

'...Have I really submitted to that naive fool?'

Well, he must not have remained naive for long after becoming Defiled. Still... how had Soul Stealer missed the chance to become the master of the Mad Prince himself, after Changing Star was gone? The impostor... was really a disappointment.

Regardless, Mordret had spoken to the Nightingale — the original carrier of the Denial Amulet — just before Twilight went up in flames. The charming archer had a part to play…

And now, it seemed that he had played it brilliantly.

A red arrow whistled through the air and struck the small scale on the chest of the giant dragon, cracking it.

'What a shot.'

How hard would it be, to hit a target so small, and a moving one at that?

Mordret allowed himself to admire the precision of the Ascended archer for a split second.

dove into the Dread Lord's corrupted

'Here we go…'

found himself surrounded by

darkness extended its revolting tendrils, trying to catch him. A forest of them rose from all sides, slithering like snakes. Trembling slightly, he evaded the grasp of Corruption and dashed

hate invading

and weapons of the master of the invaded soul, not use his own. And since the Dread Lord had surrendered to Defilement and was

by the Spell, and

were other things

did often, but he had experienced it before

covered by impregnable scales. Two mighty wings sprouted from his

He became a dragon.

but he had stolen bodies of Nightmare

his eerie gaze pierced the vile darkness and found a figure standing in the heart of it, lonesome and

its human appearance… he must not have surrendered

twisted

'Time to die…'

going to die, but was eager to find

now, while the Dread Lord… there were five repugnant masses of Corruption hidden in the boundless darkness of his defiled soul, so he had to be

were more powerful than him… more experienced than him, more knowledgeable about the nuances of their Aspects than him, more proficient in using their Memories than

them had been as resourceful as him, as resolute as him, or as

but naive fool… so how much better could his

of, though, it was the knowledge of the Defilement

a gamble, even more so than every other soul battle

have to kill him before he has time to say anything,

the distance, the lonesome figure moved, finally

mad light ignited in the

***

from the epicenter of the blast to not be reduced

witnessed the birth of the radiant star had been turned to ash, but piles of smoldering corpses still remained

hand rose from the water among

air. Then, she collapsed and lay

iron locket was still with her,

girl, seemingly concerned. Cassie concentrated on it, feeling her

"Go…"