Shadow Slave

Observing the motions of two shadows that followed Nephis, Sunny was finally able to understand the foundation of the elusive shadow style.

Before, he only sensed a hint of its essence. He knew that just like the shadow, the hidden battle art was insidious, shapeless, and everchanging. But this was where lay the problem: a battle style was, by definition, a structured framework of patterns and principles, a doctrine that dictated how one should act to defeat an enemy.

That doctrine was used as a foundation and expanded into a variety of specific movements to create a style.

But If something didn’t have a shape and its form was constantly changing, how could it ever be stable and structured? Sunny had no idea how the concepts he felt were at the core of the shadow style could create something even remotely applicable to practice.

Insidious, shapeless, everchanging. What was he supposed to do with that?

But now, he understood. The key to it all was so simple and evident that he almost laughed. Why had he not guessed earlier? It was so obvious.

The idea that tied everything together was as innate to the nature of shadows as formlessness and elusiveness.

It was imitation.

After all, what were the first two things that came to mind when one thought about shadows? That they lived in the dark and imitated the things that hid them from light.

The foundation of the shadow style was indeed insidious, shapeless, and everchanging. Its core concept was to steal that which made the enemy strong and use it to destroy them.

To master that style, he had to learn how to behave like a shadow.

Sunny stared at Nephis and Caster, but didn’t see them. His mind was consumed completely by the sudden revelation. He had no time to pay attention to their fight anymore.

This style… this style had endless potential. If he managed to master it, he would be able to counter any style or technique used against him, not to mention become an immensely unpredictable opponent.

What could be more unpredictable than a formless shadow?

Of course, it was easier said than done. To begin with, while the ability to imitate the enemy was incredibly powerful, it also demanded an incredible amount of talent, experience, and insight from the user. You couldn’t imitate that which you didn’t understand, after all.

More importantly, this was just the foundation of the style. He still had to expand it into the actual collection of specific principles… and retrain himself accordingly.

That was a mammoth task.

Creating a complete style from scratch could take a true battle master years, if not decades. Sunny had not even scratched the surface of this ambitious underetaking.

However, this was alright. It was a start. Personal battle arts were not created in an instance, anyway. It was a long and arduous process, with endless iterations coming and going while being tempered by the crucible of combat.

It’s not like the style would be useless until it became perfect.

Sunny just had to get it to the point where it could be applied in battle in one form or another. That alone would tremendously enhance his technique.

He smiled, congratulating himself. However, the next moment, a deep scowl appeared on his face.

‘Uh… but how, exactly, am I supposed to do that?’

***

A while later, when the sun was already touching the western horizon, Sunny was sitting by himself and staring at his shadow. He was motionless like a statue and deep in thought. On his face, there was a troubled frown.

When someone approached him, Sunny lingered for a few moments and then slowly looked up to see who was disturbing him.

To his surprise, it was Nephis.

The leader of their cohort stood there for a bit, her graceful figure illuminated by the setting sun. Then, she sat down near him.

Sunny blinked.

“Uh… hey Neph.”

Npehis gave him a nod.

“Hey, Sunny.”

He waited for a few moments, and then asked:

“…Did you want something?”

The corner of her mouth slightly curled upward. With a sigh, Changing Star glanced at him and said:

“It’s nothing much. I just wanted to say that I saw you fighting in the catacombs. You have improved a lot in these three months. Well done.”

Sunny smiled.

“Ah, that. Well, it’s not like there’s a lot of opportunities to lead a peaceful life in the Dark City. I was bound to improve a little, no?”

She shook her head.

“Don’t sell yourself short. You really did well. Very few would have been able to grow so much and as fast as you. Especially without a teacher.”

After hesitating for a while, Sunny shrugged.

“You said it yourself. One real battle is worth more than a thousand hours of training. There was… a lot of battles. In those three months.”

Nephis nodded, and then asked:

“That firm and grounded style you weaved into your technique… where did it come from?”

He scratched the back of his head and, remembering the hellish training sessions with his pet monster, held back the urge to shiver.

“I just observed how the Stone Saint fought and tried to replicate it.”

Changing Star smiled:

“As I thought. I’ve seen her fight, too. It’s a very formidable Echo. One of the finest I’ve ever seen.”

Coming from a Legacy, this meant a lot. Sunny was indeed really lucky to be in the right place at the right time to get the Echo of the Stone Saint. If the Fallen siblings of the iron spiders had not brought her to the brink of death, he would never have been able to survive a battle with the living statue, let alone defeat her.

He was even luckier to have a Divine Aspect that allowed him to turn Echoes into creatures that were even more fearsome.

All in all, Sunny was extremely fortunate.

His fortune was exactly as incredible as his misfortune.

He grinned.

“You know my Attributes. I do get lucky a lot.”

She lingered for a few moments, and then said:

“I’m glad that you were able to understand the true design of the battle style I taught you.”

So he was right on this point, too. The style Changing Star had given him was indeed designed to be as adaptable as possible and seamlessly incorporate elements of other styles. It was a perfect foundational battle art… for those talented enough to make use of it, of course.

Which were, most likely, extremely few and far between.

Sunny glanced at Nephis and, after some deliberation, asked:

“That style of yours is truly unique. Where did it come from?”

He had been too inexperienced to realize this at the time, but what Neph had taught him could have been considered a rare treasure. The style he took for granted was, in fact, a work of pure genius. It deserved to be famous and ubiquitous.

But it was not. Which suggested that this treasure was a secret one.

Changing Star lingered for a bit, and then said:

“It’s a part of my inheritance.”

Sunny blinked and stared at her, stunned.

‘Then… then why the hell did she teach it to me?!’