Shadow Re: Slave

The next day sunny was watiting in his room till he felt seishan nearing. Then he stepped through the shadows appearing right besides her. She fliched and than said while smiling. The silence inside the dark cathedral was almost sacred—until it was shattered by the soft rustle of robes.

Sunny was already waiting, perched on a broken parapet of the ruined cathedral. As Seishan neared the building, he vanished into the shadows and appeared soundlessly at her side.

She flinched. Again.

"Could you please stop doing that?" she said through a tight smile. "You scare the shit out of me every time."

Sunny grinned. "I could. But it's far too entertaining to stop."

He turned, the black cloak of shadows rustling lightly behind him. "Come on. Want to see how I live?"

Intrigued despite herself, Seishan followed.

Inside, thr room over the cathedral was far more luxurious than expected. A pristine king-sized bed. Clean silver plates. Cooking utensils. Neatly stacked supplies.

She blinked. "You live here like a small king."

Sunny chuckled. "No rent, no rules… and the best bodyguard money can't buy."

Then his voice grew wistful. "Shame I'll have to move soon. The sword is going to die, after all."

She raised an eyebrow.

Sunny gestured toward a heavy rucksack near the wall. "Take that. Use it in your next negotiation with Changing Star."

She peeked inside. Soul shards. Hundreds—no, thousands—of them.

"…How many?"

"Two thousand, give or take," he said nonchalantly.

Her voice lowered, cautious but composed.

"And what do you want in return?"

Sunny blinked.

Then smirked, as if she'd reminded him of something amusing.

"Ah. Right. I forgot to mention that, didn't I?"

He scratched his neck, casually leaning against the stone wall.

"Thanks for that—I've been rambling about your negotiations like you could read my mind."

A pause. A glint in his eyes.

"I'll tell you… after the fight."

And then he jumped.

Straight down into the heart of the cathedral, where the Fallen Devil awaited.

Seishan gasped.

"You're insane," she muttered. Because even if he was an Awakened she knew of only verly less Awakened that actually managed to kill an Fallen Devil alone.

Sunny landed in a crouch, his shadow spreading around him like a living storm. As he stood, the black armor of the Fallen Devil shifted and stirred—recognizing its old adversary.

This time, Sunny didn't hesitate.

He surged forward, his essence flowing with surgical precision into the exact muscles he needed. Years of experience—both past and reborn—sharpened every motion. And with Serpent acting as a conduit, that experience wasn't just memory.

It was mastery.

His essence control, refined through tireless training and layered understanding, it was already on par with a top-ranked Master. In one smooth motion, he dashed to the side, evading the greatsword that came crashing down with apocalyptic force. The ground cracked.

The Midnight Shard flashed in his hand. Sunny's blade met the black steel of the devil's weapon.

A thunderous clang exploded through the cathedral. Dust rained down. The walls trembled.

…but the sword remained unbroken.

Not surprised, Sunny grinned.

This wasn't the moment for brute strength. It was a dance.

The Shadow Dance.

They clashed again. And again.

Sunny mirrored the devil's movements, studied the flow of his attacks, learned the rhythm of the monster's ancient killing art. The second step of the Shadow Dance had taught him balance and flow.

But now…

Now came the third.

He stepped into the storm of steel, every movement refined, distilled into absolute clarity. He became not a shadow of the Forsaken Knight…

But its reflection.

Strike met strike.

Step mirrored step.

Blow by blow, Sunny grew faster, more precise. Time seemed to blur. His blade moved with lethal elegance, echoing every motion of the devil—but sharper. More deliberate.

And then… after he forgott who he was

The Spell whispered in his ear:

[You have mastered the third step of Shadow Dance.]

Sunny froze for a heartbeat, the world flickering as realization settled in.

Then he summoned them.

Saint.

Serpent.

From the darkness came the familiar forms. The towering figure of the Stone Saint landed beside him, ruby eyes glowing.

When Seishan first saw the two shadows emerge behind Sunny, her heart tightened.

Stone Saint, silent and towering.

Serpent, coiled like a curse at his heels.

For a moment, her instincts flared—battle-honed reflexes screaming that the situation was escalating beyond control.

He was strong. Unnaturally so. But even he was facing a Fallen Devil alone.

And for all his arrogance, for all the pressure he'd placed on her—forcing her into this tenuous partnership—Sunny was still her only way off the Forgotten Shore.

He couldn't die here.

Not yet.

Her fingers brushed the hilt of her weapon, ready to leap down if needed. Ready to intervene.

But then… she paused.

Because what she saw next didn't look like desperation.

It looked like control. Then she realized it were his Echos. From his skin, the tattooed serpent peeled off, unraveling into a vast shadowy creature wreathed in darkness.

Together, they attacked.

The Saint's gauntlets clashed against the devil's armor. Serpent slithered around, binding and striking. They were not here to defeat the Forsaken Knight—they were here to open him.

And Sunny?

He focused his will.

Channeling all of it into the Midnight Shard.

When Serpent and Saint created an opening, Sunny struck.

One hit.

Two.

Three.

Each blow chipped at the devil's weapon, tearing through shadowsteel and essence. The fourth cracked it. The fifth fractured it.

On the sixth—

CRACK.

The greatsword shattered, pieces of obsidian metal exploding outward. The Forsaken Knight staggered.

Saint moved without hesitation.

With a flash of crimson eyes, she drove her hand into the devil's chest. Her stone fingers pierced rusted armor, sinking into the core of living darkness.

And pulled.

A gem of impossible blackness emerged, pulsing with crimson flame.

The soul of the Fallen Devil.

Seishan, watching from above, could hardly breathe.

Saint turned the soul toward her face, lingered for a moment, and then—with calm, predatory finality—swallowed it whole.

A moment later, the armor crumpled. The devil's body turned to smoke and vanished.

The voice of the Spell whispered:

[You have slain a Fallen Devil, Forsaken Knight.]

[Your shadow grows stronger.]

Sunny let out a long breath, lowered his blade, and looked up toward Seishan.

"…Well," he said, voice casual.

"That was satisfying."

Then Sunny fell.

The final clash had ended. The Forsaken Knight was gone—nothing but scorched stone and fragments of broken armor left behind.

But the aftermath remained.

Sunny's knees hit the ground with a dull thud, the Midnight Shard slipping from his hand. He was breathing hard now, shoulders rising and falling with ragged rhythm. The adrenaline was fading. Pain was catching up.

Long, shallow gashes ran across his arms, his sides, upper body—reminders of the strikes he hadn't dodged in time. His armor was cracked. His tunic torn.

But to Seishan's surprise, and her reluctant relief…

There was no blood.

Not a single drop.

She hadn't even realized she'd been bracing herself until the tension in her jaw eased slightly. If he'd been bleeding…

If his scent had filled the air…

She wasn't sure she could have resisted.

Thank the gods, she thought grimly. Or him.

Because even if she didn't like being cornered into this alliance, even if part of her still imagined ways to break free from his shadow…

She needed him alive.

After a moment of silence, once his breath had evened out and the pain dulled to something manageable, Sunny spoke.

"I'll give you an advance in trust," he said, voice low. "And show you something… interesting."

He pushed himself off the cold stone floor, wincing slightly, then straightened. With a small gesture, he motioned for Seishan to follow.

Curious, and still not entirely sure why she was letting this half-mad boy drag her deeper into the abyss, she complied.

They moved across the cathedral floor in silence. At the far end, hidden behind a collapsed pillar and stacks of rubble, Sunny began to shift debris with a practiced ease—like someone who already knew exactly what he was looking for.

A few moments later, a nearly invisible crack in the stone revealed itself.

An entrance.

Seishan's eyes widened slightly. He hadn't hesitated once.

How many people on the Forgotten Shore would even know something was buried here? she thought. And how could he have found it so easily?

She said nothing.

They descended a narrow stone stairwell, carved centuries ago and long since forgotten. The darkness swallowed them, save for the dim glimmer of Sunny's shadowlight flickering behind him.

Eventually, a faint glow appeared at the bottom of the stairs. Two pale, burning torches flanked the entrance to a sealed chamber.

Seishan shivered.

The light was wrong.

Not comforting. Not protective.

Binding.

She knew that kind of flame. It wasn't meant to ward off intruders—it was meant to contain something.

Sunny didn't slow down.

"This was supposed to hold it," he said over his shoulder, casually. "The seal broke a while ago."

He pushed open the door and stepped inside.

The air grew heavy.

A corpse lay at the center of the chamber—ancient, preserved through unnatural means. Its skull was still crowned with a strange, utterly fearsom mask.A mask of black lacquered wood carved to resemble the face of a ferocious demon. Its teeth bared with four fangs protruding from its mouth. There were three twisted horns rising from it like a crown. Inside the black chasm of its eyes was nothing but pure darkness with three horns. It sent a shiver down Seishan's spine.

Sunny knelt before it.

Not out of reverence.

For dramatic effect.

"You're about to witness something rare," he said, glancing up at her with a slight smirk. "A divine Memory. Handmade by the Demon of Fate."

Then he reached out and touched the mask.

The moment his fingers made contact, the relic began to unravel—its form dissolving into a swirl of white sparks, drifting upward like fading snow.

Seishan froze.

Her breath caught in her throat.

She had access to sacred vaults. Had seen rare treasures passed down through generations of legacies. But this?

This was different.

A divine Memory. Forged not by mortals, but by a daemon.

And he had found one.

She wanted to ask how. How. But she remained silent. Not because she lacked the will, but because something in the room told her that she wasn't prepared to understand the answer.

The moment the mask materialized in Sunny's hand, the air changed.

The atmosphere grew denser, oppressive. Shadows twisted unnaturally. And for just a moment…

She couldn't tell how tall he was anymore.

Like reality had blurred around him.

Then, just as calmly, he dismissed the Memory.

The weight lifted.

Sunny looked up at her and smiled faintly. "Don't bother trying to read the runes," he said. "You won't be able to. But… I'll make you a deal."

She raised a brow.

"You can ask me questions. But only open ones—onec I can decide whether to answer or not. Fair?"

She hesitated.

This has to do with his Flaw, she thought.

But still… after everything he had just shown her—his vision for the future, his unnatural strength, and now this…

She nodded. "Fine. I'll ask like that from now on."

She wasn't going to push. Not yet. She didn't want to spook him. Whatever Sunny truly was, she was starting to realize…

He could've done all this alone.

And yet, he had invited her to see it.

To share it.

That kind of trust… it wasn't weakness. It was deliberate.

She glanced toward the white sparks still drifting upward from the center of the room, then back at him.

"Do you mind telling me what they read?" she asked quietly.

Sunny's eyes gleamed in the darkness.

Then, softly, almost reverently, he recited:

[Thus spoke Weaver

"They will open the Gates"

And they did

Calling forth doom and destruction upon us

Now, in the ruins

Gods lay dead

And the daemons have fallen

The Forgotten One comes

Wide awakeTo consume them]

The words echoed in the chamber like a curse.

Seishan stared at him for a long moment.

He didn't explain. He didn't need to.

She couldn't process all of it. Not now.

So they parted without another word.