Shadow Slave

The monarch of the cursed warriors, the Deathless Sovereign himself, was bound to the Death Tree’s colossal trunk, wrapped in myriad chains. His struggles were the most furious, the chains snapping and shattering as more and more of them were manifested from the deep darkness at the roots of the Soul Devourer to replace them. The eerie shade was already working its vile magic, poisoning the minds of the Deathless. However, even augmented by six incarnations of its master, it could not handle the boundless Will of Azarax, the Plague of Steel.

Unseen, his Will crashed into the trunk of the colossal tree, aiming to break and shatter it. Of course, what it collided with instead was Sunny’s own Will, which protected the Soul Devourer like an invisible aegis.

Driven mad by the Call of Nightmare, straining to contain all the Deathless and their ruler with the help of Shadow Manifestation, and resisting the Will of the ancient tyrant, he could not help but let out a silent wail of mental anguish.

‘Just… stay still… for a bit more!’

Of course, Azarax was not going to heed his command.

The Deathless Sovereign strained against his chains, gnashing his teeth in boundless fury. More and more of those chains snapped, allowing him to move a little.

At first, he could only move his skull. So, Azarax bit into the chains, shattering them with his black teeth. Then, he slammed the back of his head into the trunk of the Soul Devourer, making the entire tree shudder. Deep cracks appeared on the bark of the colossal shade, grey fog flowing out of them like sap.

‘Can’t hold much longer…’

Azarax struck the Death Tree several more times, cracking its trunk while at the same time shattering his own helmet.

Then, he managed to free one of his arms. When that happened, Sunny realized that his time had run out.

‘Crap.’

Nevertheless, the Soul Devourer had served its purpose well. It stalled the Deathless Sovereign, while at the same time binding his undead warriors.

Sunny escaped the shade of the Death Tree just before Azarax called upon his axe. The fearsome weapon flew through the air, spinning, and landed into his hand — a moment later, the glass blade flashed, and the remaining chains that bound him shattered.

The ancient tyrant fell, landing on the sand with a resounding boom.

As the sand that was thrown into the air by his landing was carried away by the wind, Sunny and Azarax found themselves facing each other, separated by no more than a hundred meters.

The terrifying conqueror of the ancient past gazed at Sunny with mad, boundless fury boiling in the depths of his empty eye sockets.

Sunny, meanwhile, remained expressionless.

He inhaled deeply.

“That should be enough time, I think.”

And as soon as he spoke it — before Azarax could lunge at him — the empty space behind him was suddenly not empty anymore.

Instead, there was a magnificent black temple there, its towering pillars supporting the ancient black edifice.

The temple that was almost as old as existence itself, built at the time the Dream God had not yet become the Forgotten God…

The Nameless Temple.

Not long before, the seventh incarnation of Sunny summoned the shade of the Soul Devourer behind Azarax. Then, he closed his eyes and delved into his Soul Sea, walking up the steps of the replica of the Nameless Temple to enter its great hall.

Using the replica to connect to his Citadel, Sunny then flooded it with his essence and summoned it to his side, bringing it to the heart of Ariel’s Hell from the eternal darkness of the Forgotten Shore.

That incarnation was inside the Nameless Temple now, rushing to its underground part, where two items were contained within expansive runic circles, each emanating a chillingly malevolent aura.

His target was one of those items.

Azarax finally lunged forward…

But he never reached Sunny.

Instead, it was as if he struck an invisible wall. The fearsome great axe froze in the air, and the ancient tyrant himself staggered. He glanced up, a hint of wariness finding its way into his empty eyes… and then, his towering figure soared into the air, as if something enormous had grasped him and raised him up.

That was the invisible Guardian of the Nameless Temple — the last of them, and the only one that remained. Sunny still did not know anything about the nature of that being, including the true limits of its power. What he did know, however, was that it had existed from the dawn of time, having served the gods themselves once.

During Sunny’s First Nightmare, the Guardian allowed him entry into the Nameless Temple because of the [Mark of Divinity] etched into his soul — because it recognized the familiar scent of the gods upon him.

It was for the same reason that it allowed the Mountain King inside, as well… because the soul of the holy king who was corrupted by the Worm of Doubt thousands of years ago — the chrysalis of the Puppeteer — had been infused with the Flame of Divinity too, once.

Azarax, however, had nothing to do with the gods despite being a Supreme being of immense power. If anything, he had actively antagonized the gods and all that was of them, deeming himself more worthy to sit on the throne of Divinity than they.

The invisible Guardian served Sunny now, anyway. So, if Sunny wanted it to stall Azarax, it would do so without fail.

The figure of Azarax was rising higher and higher, having long soared higher than the roof of the Nameless Temple. His indestructible glass armor was cracking and crumbling, sharp shards raining down like falling stars.

Deep inside the transparent helmet, a thin fracture appeared on the black skull.

Then, something flashed in the ancient tyrant’s empty eye sockets, and he suddenly brandished his fearsome axe.

There was a gust of hurricane wind, and the sandstorm was parted, revealing the ghastly battle between Nephis and the vast swarm of Nightmare Butterflies high above them.

…The sky was on fire, having turned into a blinding inferno of white flames.

Suddenly free, Azarax fell to the ground and landed on one knee, using the great axe to support himself.

Still motionless, Sunny pursed his lips.

“You just refuse to give up, do you now?”

Azarax glared at him, his killing intent potent enough to extinguish the life of lesser adversaries, and rose to his feet.

It did not matter much, though…

Because at that moment, another avatar of Sunny walked between the pillars of the Nameless Temple, carrying something in his hands.

He descended the black steps, stopped near Sunny, and carefully placed the item on the sand in front of him.

Now, there was something between Sunny and Azarax — something that could stall the Deathless Sovereign for a long while, or perhaps even destroy him completely. Something that Sunny was very reluctant to use, but could not help but use now.

The unsure way to deal with Azarax he had come up with.

It was an old, intricately built dollhouse. The dollhouse he had taken from the Jade Palace and sealed in the underground hall of the Nameless Temple, deeming it too dangerous to be left in a city as populous as Ravenheart — or any city where mundane humans lived, for that matter.

Sunny sighed.

“Look what you made me do.”

He had been contemplating a way to deal with Azarax for a long while now. Sadly, the ancient tyrant was both immensely powerful and immortal, so there were not a lot of tricks that could help Sunny get rid of him.

Initially, he had hoped to set the Wandering Archon on Azarax. Who was better suited to deal with the Deathless Sovereign than a Deathless Spirit, after all?

However, the most likely reason Sunny would have needed to deal with Azarax was the curse of Shadow God — if the ancient tyrant lost himself to the curse, fully becoming one of the Deathless, he would cease to be an ally and turn into a terrible threat.

But that would also mean that the Archon and Azarax would be united in their impulse to destroy the invaders of the Hell of Ariel. If Sunny summoned the Deathless Spirit, they would attack him together instead of turning on each other.

Which would constitute a suboptimal result. So… this was the next best option.

Or rather, the next worst option.

As Azarax lunged at him from a distance, Sunny smiled darkly.

“I would tell you to go to hell, but… you know. We are already here. So just go screw yourself, bastard. Meet the original Ash Tyrant!”

With that, he raised the Serpent, poured all his Will into its blade, and brought it down on the Dollhouse, severing it in half. Suddenly, his hair stood on end, and a cold chill crept up his spine.

The Cursed Tyrant was being set free to fight a cursed tyrant…

That was quite ironic, actually.

Unwilling to stay and see what would happen next, Sunny did something that he had never attempted before — he strained his soul and pulled the Nameless Temple into it, replacing the replica of the ancient Citadel that stood in his Soul Sea with the real thing.

Then, he stepped into the shadows and fled without ever looking back.

The last thing he heard before disappearing from the vast expanse of white dunes was an eerie, chilling sound that made every bone in his body tremble, and every fiber of his being scream.

Something told him that not looking back was a very wise and prudent decision on his part.

‘Have fun, Azarax.’

The next moment, Sunny stepped out of the shadows onto the deck of the Chain Breaker.