Shadow Slave

Sunny was mostly interested in the details of what each of the two feuding clans had prepared for Antarctica... but those plans were tightly guarded by those who had been entrusted with them.

He suspected that learning the specifics of their strategy would become easier when the main forces of Valor and Song arrived in Antarctica - the more people involved in something, the harder it was to keep things secret. However, for now, only a handful of emissaries were here, all busy with rather transparent preparatory work.

That did not mean that he had failed to learn anything of use, of course.

Knowing the enemy’s next move was immensely valuable, but knowing the enemy themselves was much more important. By observing his four marks, Sunny was slowly becoming familiar with how they acted, felt, and even thought.

When Beastmaster was standing on the city wall, observing a horde of Nightmare Creatures assaulting it with an eerily serene expression on her exquisitely beautiful face, Sunny’s shadow was there, watching.

When Whispering Blade stopped to look at the mundane soldiers, a hint of detached pity finding its way into his calm eyes, Sunny’s shadow was there, watching.

When Morgan practiced her swordsmanship, moving with grace and speed that would make the most famed warriors feel heavy in their hearts, Sunny’s shadow was there, watching.

And when the bleak, unassuming Ascended Bast spent hours doing nothing, sitting like a corpse in a dark room, his shadow was there as well.

Of course, the small nuances of their personalities were not everything that Sunny learned. He gained a much better understanding of their abilities, as well.

Beastmaster was, indeed, a frightening being. Her powers lay in mesmerism and manipulation. From what he could tell, simply looking her in the eyes could be a death sentence. She could make her enemies defenseless by luring them into a state of deep trance, or bedevil them with insidious illusions. And, above all else, she could completely dominate someone’s mind, making them an eternal thrall.

Whispering Blade was just as fearsome. Even though his powers were not as fiendish, they were just as deadly. His quintessential Ability was to make all weapons he wielded invisible - and his Saint Transformation was to be unseen, as well. Since Saint Madoc was not nearly as mysterious and secretive as his counterpart from the Song clan, it was widely known that when he fought, it was as though the world itself was slicing the bodies of his enemies apart.

There was no escape.

Morgan, on the other hand, had a rather strange Aspect. If Whispering Blade possessed an Ability that made the sword he wielded deadlier, then Morgan... was the blade itself. The feeling of sharpness she emanated was not a coincidence.

The Princess of War did not need any weapons, because her body was the absolute weapon. She could cut through armored alloy and the flesh of even the most powerful Nightmare Creatures with her hands, and rend their bodies with her feet. It was both strange and terrifying, as though she was not a human, but a living sword.

...In retrospect, it made a lot of sense that she had easily cut through the adamantine breastplate of the Mantle of the Underworld with her bare hand.

’Wouldn’t it mean that she cheated? She promised to only use a dormant weapon...’

That thought, strangely, led Sunny to discover a hint of what Morgan’s Flaw was.

While observing her, he noticed that Morgan preferred clothes that revealed as little of her skin and body as possible... she even wore gloves, never appearing without them. Sometimes it was the gauntlets of her armor, and sometimes it was the slim, stylish leather gloves that went well with her tailored mundane clothes.

Because of that, Sunny started to suspect that the Princess of Valor was not in control of what her hands cut. Or rather, that everything she touched was doomed to be sliced and severed, as if carved by a sharp blade.

Perhaps the Flaw was not as powerful as her Ability - otherwise, her own armor would not be able to withstand it - but it was certainly a cruel extension of it.

Sadly, Sunny had no such luck in deducing the Flaws of Whispering Blade and Beastmaster.

And then... there was Bast.

Actually, Sunny had not learned anything about him at all. The bleak man was like a corpse that someone was wearing as a suit. He was quiet, dull, and devoid of much emotion. He never did much of anything, but was nevertheless treated with strange courtesy... deference, even... by Seishan, Beastmaster, and Dire Fang.

Bast did nothing, just waiting and biding his time.

But Sunny could swear that there was a menacing malevolence hiding behind the placid dullness of his eyes.

’What are you doing, bastard? What are your reflections doing? When are you going to strike?’

Sunny was not the only one who paid close attention to Bast. Even though they did not show it, Morgan and Madoc were tracking the movements of the bleak Master as well.

In fact, he learned a few things about Mordret from the fragments of their conversations about the man.

For example, he learned that Anvil had personally crafted the enchanted talisman that protected Ascended Welthe from being possessed by her ward. He also learned Anvil’s title... the King of Swords.

Apparently, the King of Swords had prepared a few more tools to trap and destroy his eldest child. However, both Whispering Blade and Morgan were hesitant to use them yet.

They were unnerved by Bast’s inaction, too.

...Just like that, a few days passed. Sunny had been gathering information like a spider sitting in the middle of a vast web. He had not made any earth-shattering discoveries in that short time, but it was a good start. In truth, he was more concentrated on finding safe ways to get closer to his marks, for now, than on actually stealing their secrets.

Once he truly learned how to slither through their defenses, the secrets would be revealed as a result.

On the fourth day... it was time to say his goodbyes to Jet. Both Song and Valor were leaving the siege capitals to travel to the respective port fortresses and meet the arriving reinforcements.

After that, they would proceed to other cities, and the clandestine war would start in earnest.

Sunny was leaving with the emissaries of Valor, and Jet was leaving with the emissaries of Song. Chances were, they would not meet face-to-face for a long time.

He would have been worried if it was anyone else, but there was little doubt that Soul Reaper would be able to keep herself alive. He had already warned her to steer clear of the man who called himself Bast, just to be safe.

Really, the person Sunny had to worry about... was himself.

’I’ll survive, too.’

But that was the thing... simply surviving was not enough. It had not been for a long time.

And that was what could get him killed.

With a sigh, Sunny called back the shadows that had been watching the emissaries of Song, and went to find Nephis.

It was time for the two of them to travel side by side once again.