Shadow Slave

A wide street was shrouded in darkness, framed by the burning buildings and billowing smoke. The ground was littered with rubble and broken vehicles. Here and there, human bodies lay in the pools of blood, covered with dust.

A woman with raven-black hair and icy blue eyes was standing in the middle of the ruined road, holding a black sickle sword.

In front of her, a towering figure was moving slowly across the rubble, each of its steps exerting an invisible pressure on the world. The creature was surrounded by a haze of swirling sand, with only a vague silhouette of a gaunt human visible behind its veil.

A thousand screaming souls shrouded the ancient devil like a mantle.

Jet looked at him coldly.

«I hear that you are called the Heart of Kanakht… nice to meet you. I am called Soul Reaper Jet.»

A dark smile appeared on her pale face.

«This is my city. So, prepare to die.»

The Great Devil halted, looking down at her through the veil of sand. The whirlwind of souls surrounding it parted, revealing two gaping pools of darkness, Ghostly flames ignited in their depths, piercing her with a gaze of indescribable malice.

And hunger.

Then, a rustle of a myriad of whispers rose like a tide, enveloping her in a cold embrace.

Jet did not know the words of the ancient language the fiend spoke, but understood them regardless with the help of the Spell:

«…Broken… thing… bow, submit, surrender. Succumb…»

She felt a powerful compulsion press her into the ground, as if a thousand invisible hands were pulling her soul down.

However…

The weight of her shattered soul was too great for them to move it even by a millimeter.

Jet's smile widened.

She raised her sword and took a step forward.

«…In your dreams.»

A split second later, her ghostly figure dashed toward the Devil.

to form a jagged sun. Her radiant essence constantly leaked through the gaps between the shards… but, in return, the more living beings she killed, the more her

slaughtered countless beings over the years, since

furiously in the cold darkness of her desolate soul. Not only that, but her dead flesh could absorb much more essence than that of someone who was truly

might also translated to the dire

ghost, Jet appeared in front of the Great Devil and lashed out with her sword. All of it happened in an instant, too fast to be discerned

the Great Devil were not at all mundane. The figure hidden in the sand shifted, raising a hand to swat

blade was not swept

the sand and

exploded into a cloud of dust, obliterated by the giant

one of the myriads of souls subjugated by the Heart of Kanakht dissolved into nothingness, receiving the cut on his behalf. The abomination sustained no damage at all. It was only affected a little by the lethargic power of the black khopesh,

figure, moving too fast to

damage, as well. She jumped back, knowing that this

sand tilted its head slightly. Then, the sand settled back onto

souls flowed forward like a raging river, threatening to tear her

«Soul attack.»

Jet gritted her teeth.

was going to

perception, the jagged pieces of torn alloy and shattered concrete were

furious battlefield. Two wraiths- one made of mist, the other of sand — clashed in

rustled as it brushed against

disturbed by their battle. The pillars of smoke were not torn apart by the hurricane

because Jet was intangible, and so were her attacks. The harrowing storm of phantoms pursuing

had been happening on the material plane,

into a smoldering ruin… like many

«Damn it…»

Her insidious power, which had served her splendidly across countless

had consumed. And they were indeed legion… there must have been millions of people living in the outskirts, where

of the victims had Joined the whirlpool of souls, Jet would have to land thousands

direct damage to her own soul. It was vast and tenacious, true, but in this war of attrition, Jet

bastard have to

of haze and slashed at it

of the Great Devil —

losing all of their essence simply meant enduring a period of powerlessness and not feeling well. But to her, it meant death —

Jet wasn't sure that she would be able to control herself when facing this slow and excruciating dissolution. The few times she had come close

pushing her the limits to battle a Great Devil consumed an ocean of

five powerful souls were bound to her mist blade — if push came to shove, she would consume