Shadow Slave

The Shadow Legion engaged the vanguard of the wraith army on the Palace Island, making the ground quake and the lake swell with towering waves. The Dutchman loomed in the distance, drawing closer and closer.

On the eastern shore, Nephis landed gently at the very edge of water and leaned on the Blessing, looking across the lake at the ruined vista of the Eternal City. The mysterious being hiding somewhere among the rubble had not revealed itself yet, slowed down by the Crushing, but it was going to arrive soon.

Cassie stood on the wall above the gates of the Dark Castle, resting her head on the hilt of the Quiet Dancer. She had removed her blindfold and was now facing the battlefield, the dying light of Naeve’s flames reflecting in her gorgeous blue eyes.

Far in the distance, beyond the lake, the repulsive rivers of crushed flesh were slowly converging on a single point.

‘Ah... I don’t like it.’

Standing in the dead darkness of the gateway of the Palace, Sunny glanced around with a complicated expression. He had an ominous feeling that the Flesh of Kanakht had not shown them its worst, yet.

“We should hurry.”

Nightwalker raised an eyebrow.

“Hurry where?”

The Palace was immense, taking up most of the island. More than that, it was incredibly tall, with countless spires bound together by a complicated maze of aerial bridges.

The spacious corridor they were currently in resembled an enormous metal tunnel, with no seams between its walls, floor, and ceiling. It was in a state of dire disrepair, with deep scratches covering every surface and an eerie dark mold growing in vast patches here and there. Ghastly black flowers bloomed in the mold, and the air was thick with dust and pollen.

It was as if something enormous had made its way through the corridor once, smearing its walls with blood. The blood then dried up, and eventually gave birth to the sinister mold.

If Sunny could unleash his shadow sense, he could have scouted the entirety of the Palace in an instant. But just like everywhere else in the Eternal City, his senses were suppressed — more so here than outside. He could barely perceive what was a hundred meters ahead of them, and did not feel what was behind the walls at all.

Giving the swirling wisps of pollen a wary look, Sunny ceased breathing and answered in an even tone:

”You’re the Nightwalker. Your people are known to be excellent guides, so why don’t you guide us to the very heart of this damn place?”

Nightwalker summoned a Memory that resembled a square piece of deep blue fabric embroidered with silver thread, folded it once, and tied it around his neck. Pulling it to cover the lower part of his face, he inhaled deeply and shrugged.

“No problem.”

Sunny blinked a couple of times.

“Wait, really? I... was joking”

Nightwalker chuckled.

“I think I mentioned that my Aspect allows me to get to places.”

Sunny remained silent for a few moments. “Lead the way, then.”

He had almost expected Nightwalker to sit on the floor, meditate for a while, and then open some kind of mystical portal, but instead of that, the youth simply started walking. Sunny hesitated for a moment, then followed, careful not to step on the disturbingly thick mounds of mold growing on the floor.

He was observing their surroundings with utmost caution, ready to repel any kind of attack. However, even after a few minutes, no abominations lunged at them from the darkness.

Instead, he suddenly heard Cassie’s voice in his ears:

[Sunny...]

He frowned faintly.

[Did you learn something about the Dutchman?]

There were a few moments of silence, and then she spoke again:

[No, although I can perceive it clearer the closer it comes. It is about the Flesh of Kanakht.]

Sunny pursed his lips, suspecting that he was not going to like what she was about to say.

[What is it?]

Cassie’s voice sounded glum:

[It’s evolving.]

Hearing that, Sunny almost stumbled.

[It’s what?]

She seemed to sigh.

[I think it has been on the precipice of evolution for a long while. Perhaps it gained something while battling the Dutchman, or perhaps resisting the Crushing served as a catalyst. In any case, it’s in the process of evolving from a Great Terror to a Great Titan. And the evolution is rapid... we don’t have much time.]

Sunny cursed out loud.

As if he had not already had enough on his plate.

‘A damn Great Titan, damn it!’

His expression darkened.

Sunny had yet to battle a Great Titan, let alone kill one. He had spent a long time staring at the Dark Sea of the Forgotten Shore and planning to slay it one day, but that day still remained in the far future.

‘It’s going to be fine. I killed a Cursed Tyrant once — surely, a Great Titan won’t be any worse. Surely. Even if... even if it’s immortal...’

His expression fell.

Nightwalker glanced at him in confusion. ”What are you cursing for?”

Sunny exhaled slowly.

He remained silent for a moment, then said in a low voice:

”The Flesh of Kanakht. Apparently, it’s evolving”

Nightwalker stared at him for a bit, then glanced away.

“Ah. Makes sense.”

Sunny gaped.

”Makes sense? How the hell does it make sense?”

His guide coughed, then shrugged.

”Well, it’s how things go. There is usually a pattern to how Nightmare Creatures evolve, you know? A Demon has to develop unnatural powers to become a Devil. A Devil has to gain authority over lesser creatures and claim a territory to become a Tyrant. A Tyrant...”

Nightwalker paused for a second and grimaced.

“You know how Tyrants usually rule over minions, but abominations of higher Ranks don’t? That’s because they don’t need to exert their authority outward. Instead, they internalize it and become a complete being —a force in and of itself, self-contained and self-sufficient. Anyway, Tyrants usually consume their minions to fuel their ascension to Terrors. That’s why Terrors and Titans rarely have servants.”

Sunny stared at him in puzzlement, wondering how this First Generation fossil had a better understanding of Nightmare Creatures than people of the Third Generation. In fact, those who had become Awakened after the Chain of Nightwares were already being called the Fourth Generation, and they did not know any better either.

In hindsight, what Nightwalker had said made a lot of sense, though. It also correlated with Sunny’s own observations. ‘Consume their minions, huh...’

”What about Terrors, then? How do they usually evolve into Titans?”

Nightwalker grimaced.

”Terrors usually have only one goal — to spread, to grow. But once they spread and grow enough to reach critical mass, they must do the opposite. They must consolidate themselves and evolve. That is how they become Titans — only, naturally, very few ever do. And they need to fuel the final stages of their evolution with an enormous amount of soul essence, so it’s usually a massacre of harrowing proportions.’

Sunny tilted his head a little.

‘Consolidate themselves?’

Strangely enough, it reminded him of how stars were born. Diffused clouds of gas and dust — of matter — had to reach a threshold of density to initiate gravity collapse. Then, ina terrible conflagration of heat and light, a star was formed by nuclear fusion.

As Sunny pondered that, Nightwalker grimaced.

”The Flesh of Kanakht spread to the entire population of the Eternal City thousands of years ago. I think it only lacked fuel to evolve, and the Dutchman delivered just that to this damn place.”

Sunny glanced down, fuming.

‘That damn Dutchman...’

Taking a few more steps forward, he sighed. ”What the hell. That’s cheating. I had to literally descend into the Shadow Realm and kill a dead god to become a Titan.’ Nightwalker chuckled.

“Ha. You’re a funny one.”

Sunny smiled bitterly.

“I’m not joking, though? I wish I were...”