Shadow Slave

Breaching the surface, Sunny relaxed his body and drifted in the cold water for a long while, doing nothing but breathing deeply. His mind was empty, and a languid, comfortable stillness overcame his entire being.

The utter darkness that surrounded him, the cold water that soothed his bruised body, the weightlessness… all of it was so peaceful. As if he were drifting in an endless, tranquil void.

Sunny allowed himself to remain in that pleasantly numb state for some time, knowing from the movement of shadows — or rather, from the lack of it — that there were no threats around him.

Now that the danger was gone, both his body and mind needed to rest. It was no surprise, really… he had been under tremendous pressure for a long while now, and that pressure culminated when he returned to the Hell of Ariel.

Those past weeks were unlike anything he had ever experienced. Sunny had visited some truly terrifying places over the course of his eventful life — places that no human was ever meant to endure. The Death Game, the bottom of the Stormsea, the Eternal City…

But nothing had tested him quite like the Nightmare Desert. Not on that scale, at least.

It had taken three powerful Supremes to make it to the heart of Hell, and even then, they had only survived by the skin of their teeth. There had not been a single night that failed to leave them with deep scars, and not a single battle in which their lives had not been at stake.

“How the hell did Daeron make it inside?”

Sunny’s voice sounded quiet in the vast silence.

He knew that the Serpent King had been the only Supreme of the Storm Realm. He also knew that Daeron had been both powerful and ingenious… still, he couldn’t quite imagine how the ancient Supreme could have made it inside the Tomb of Ariel alive. He would have been far away from his natural element, after all, since there was no water anywhere in the boundless desert. Then again, the desert had been the bottom of an ocean once. So, perhaps Daeron was quite comfortable here.

After drifting in the comfortable darkness for a while, Sunny came to the conclusion that there was little point in contemplating the Serpent King’s power in relation to himself or Nephis — because the very nature of power had changed since the days of the Twilight Sea.

The three of them simply existed in different realities.

It was not even about who was stronger, but more about the source and foundation of their strength.

Sunny did not know the order in which the Nightmare, and therefore the Nightmare Spell, had consumed the Divine Realms. What he did know, however, was that the War Realm was unique — it was unique because its laws rejected the existence of all things that went against the mundane.

It was a sanctuary for humans, and a place where humans could freely express their intellect and ingenuity, safe from the tyranny of transcendent Wills. A world of immutable reason… a beautiful world where no one, not even the gods, could dictate how mortals lived, and people were free to choose for themselves what path to take. Even if those paths often led them to bloodshed and strife, they had achieved so much, invented so much, built and created so much — more than any other realm had. But their isolation also made them different from those who had inhabited the Twilight Sea once.

Unlike people of Earth, who had to discover the vast and dreadful world that lay beyond the boundaries of their cradle from the position of utter ignorance, Daeron the Serpent King had been born into it. He had been born into the legacy of knowledge they were still trying to learn or had no idea about.

Awakened, soul essence, Corruption, the Void, Shaping, sorcery — Daeron had possessed an innate understanding of all these matters, and many more, while Sunny and Nephis were merely novices to them. He had inherited the knowledge, disciplines, and skills developed by countless generations of Awakened over the course of thousands of years, from the dawn of time till the end of the world…

And past it.

No matter how much Sunny and Nephis learned, fathomed, and invented themselves, the accumulation of their knowledge could not compare to such a fundamental, civilizational legacy — even if the Spell was there to help breach the gap. Not yet, at least, and not for a long while. That was their disadvantage when compared to the great giants of the ancient past… but it was an advantage, as well. Because they lacked a foundation in all things having to do with the sublime, they were left no choice but to do with what they had. Theirs was a much harsher world, a world where the stakes were much more stark, much more absolute… it was always all or nothing, do or die. Nothing stood behind the people of their world, so they could only rely on themselves.

As a result, they had been forged into much sharper blades.

So, it was not that Daeron had been far stronger than they were, or that they were far stronger than he had been. It was just that the ingredients of their strength were different, and so, its nature was different as well.

Daeron had probably been capable of doing many things that Sunny and Nephis couldn’t do, and they, in turn, were capable of many things he would have never been able to accomplish.

That said…

“I still killed him, though. So who’s the meanest bastard of them all, in the end?”

Sunny chuckled.

Granted, he had killed the Nightmare version of Daeron while the poor man was already Corrupted, completely insane, and almost dead… but then again, Sunny himself had only been a Master at the time, so that had to count for something.

Having finished contemplating the astonishing fate of Daeron, the Serpent King, Sunny sighed and finally emerged from the state of pleasant relaxation, deciding that it was time to start thinking about the present again.

First, he assessed his condition.

His condition… wasn’t great. It was terrible, really.

Six of his seven incarnations had suffered such catastrophic damage that he could not manifest them at the moment. His soul was in shambles, barely held together by Soul Weave. The Shadow Legion was completely eradicated, and at least a week would have to pass before it was mended to full strength.

Saint, Slayer, and even Serpent were wounded so grievously that he could not call upon them, either.

Thankfully, all seven links of the Curse were augmenting the dark flames of his soul, so the rate at which his shades and Shadow recovered was greatly enhanced. Saint especially would be back on her feet soon due to her own powers, so…

All things considered, he had escaped Hell in good shape. Despite how hurt and battered Sunny and everyone he commanded were, nothing was irrevocably lost. Everything could be repaired and brought back, eventually.

Which brought him to the next point on the agenda.

Assessing the world around him.

‘Right.’

Something was seriously wrong with the world.