Shadow Slave

Effie sighed and then pushed herself off the ground, where she had been lying in a fetal position. Her entire body was a sea of torment, and as she moved, a few of the sores hidden under the layer of mud broke, black blood seeping from them.

Leaning on the wooden post tiredly, she stretched her legs and stared at the crowd of soldiers expressionlessly.

‘They are really here to kill me, huh?’

But she wasn’t ready to die yet. Despite everything, she still wanted to live... she wanted to live desperately, possibly more than even before.

Effie remained motionless for a few seconds, watching the soldiers working up the courage to lunge at her, and then smiled.

”What, are you waiting for an invitation?”

Her voice was creaky and weak, but they still heard her. Their eyes ignited with murderous fury.

But Effie only laughed.

“Bastards... you don’t seem to understand the situation.”

She leaned sideways and spat a mouthful of black blood into the mud.

“See that? That means that I am infected by the plague. I’ll kill some of you... many of you... before the lucky ones manage to land a blow. But guess what? Even those who get lucky won’t live long enough to enjoy their fortune, because they’ll be infected by the plague, as well. Crowding around a carrier of a virulent disease is not the brightest idea, don’t you think?”

The soldiers paled. Those who stood in the front row tried to step back, but failed, pushed forward by those behind them instead.

Looking at their struggles, Effie grinned.

“But that is not even your real problem. Do you want to know what your real problem is, fools?”

She fell silent for a few seconds, breathing laboriously, then offered in a hoarse voice:

“There must be three hundred of you in that crowd, at least. You morons. How many of the three hundred of you are already infected, do you think? How many will be infected by the time you are done dealing with me? Catching the plague from me is not even the real danger. Who you should really be afraid of... is the person standing next to you...”

That made the warriors of the Steel Horde shudder. Before, they had been looking at her with murderous malice... but now, they were suddenly looking at the soldiers around them, distrust and deep, dreadful fear written on their faces. Effie could not help but chuckle.

That was what she wanted to see... that was what she was aiming for even above the deaths caused by the plague. Mutual distrust, fear, doubt, hesitation — this was the true pestilence that could destroy the Steel Horde.

After all, if Azarax’s soldiers feared their fellow warriors more than they feared the adversary, how could they ever win a war? This was the rot that had to consume the Steel Horde from within.

That was why Effie smiled even as awful pain consumed her insides.

‘That’s right. Look at each other. See? That one doesn’t look so good. Why is he so pale? The one behind him is suspicious, as well. Is that dirt on his clothes, or blood? And the one staring at him from afar, doesn’t he seem too gaunt all of a sudden?’

Her smile widened.

She was still smiling when a javelin shot from the crowd, ripping through the air at astonishing speed.

‘Uh-oh...’

At that moment, Effie realized that she might have committed a tactical error. She had missed the fact that scaring the soldiers by saying that those who approached her could become infected... might give them the bright idea of killing from a distance.

It seems these idiots were not as idiotic as she had assumed.

Effie’s hands were shackled behind her back, and she couldn’t really stand up because her tendons had been cut. She dealt with the previous attacks by using her legs and teeth, but dodging a javelin was a problem — especially because the person who had thrown it was obviously an Awakened, or possibly even a Master...

Or possibly even a Saint. There were plenty of them left in the Steel Horde, and while most weren’t as powerful as the Dread Generals had been, that didn’t mean that they were foolish or incompetent. Azarax wanted to keep Effie alive, but these officers might have had other ideas.

If someone here wasn’t blinded by the same kind of unhinged lust for power as Azarax, they would see her clearly for what she was... a threat.

They wouldn’t dare to kill her openly, but a large crown of angry and scared soldiers was a great cover for a bit of murder... as well as a perfect tool for it, if the unseen assailant used their cards right.

It would be quite difficult for Effie to dodge the javelin...

She still tried, though, awkwardly pushing her aching body to the side.

The javelin failed to deal her a deadly wound, but she had not been quick enough, either — it left a jagged wound on her side, dark blood soaking the dirty rags her red garments had turned into.

‘Argh...’

More pain... honestly, she couldn’t even be bothered to register this source of it, by now.

The worst part was that whoever had thrown the javelin was not done yet — and their actions might have given the rest of the soldiers an idea.

Effie had successfully infected them with doubt and fear, but while the warriors of the Steel Horde were indecisive and fearful, they realized that they could allow themselves to feel these emotions after killing their source.

She could practically see the gears turning in their heads, their wary gazes turning more and more perilous.

An angry crowd was a scary thing.

‘If only I had my essence.’

Chained and surrounded by hundreds of angry men, all of them thirsting for her blood, Effie glanced at the warriors of the Steel Horde tiredly.

If she had essence, she could have snapped her chains and ripped off her collar. She could have called upon her powers and decimated these cowards. Hell, she could have assumed her Transcendent form and squished them like bugs under her feet. Sure, her insides were being consumed by the rotting plague, and she was alone... but she still could have killed them all and avenged herself on the Steel Horde.

But, well.

Dreams didn’t always come true.

More often than not, only nightmares did.