shadow slave, Echoes of the forgotten

"Oh no."

The words escaped Sunny's lips in a breathless whisper, heavy with exhaustion and dread. The entire cohort turned to face him, their expressions morphing into masks of fresh terror as they registered the tone in his voice. The air grew thick with tension, making each breath feel like a struggle.

"Sunny," Effie's voice cracked, so unlike her usual self. "Please tell me your shadow managed to kill the Great Tyrant. Because I don't think we're capable of taking one down in our current state." Gone was her characteristic laughter, replaced by raw fear for survival. The transformation in her demeanor only served to heighten the group's anxiety.

Among them, only Nephis maintained some semblance of composure, her face a carefully crafted mask of stoicism. Yet Sunny, who knew her better than anyone, caught the subtle tightening around her eyes - a minute tell of her inner turmoil. He kept this observation to himself, understanding the importance of maintaining their collective resolve.

"She killed it," Sunny confirmed, his voice hollow. "And another twenty with the impact alone." He paused, drawing in a deep, shuddering breath before delivering the worse news. "But now that it's dead, all of the minions it controlled are running towards us." His words hung in the air like a death sentence.

He managed to find a small silver lining. "The good news is that all the awakened, masters, and saints are no longer under the mind attack."

Jet clicked her tongue in frustration, her mind racing through their dire odds. How could they possibly stand against more than nine hundred Great beasts and monsters? Beside her, Effie stared ahead, her keen eyes already picking out the grotesque forms of approaching abominations through the haze.

"Sunny," Effie's voice carried an unfamiliar note of desperation, shocking coming from such a seasoned huntress. "Please tell me you have a way to get us out of here."

He shook his head slowly, the weight of their situation evident in his bearing. Despite the vast repository of memories at his disposal, none held the key to their escape. Just as despair threatened to overwhelm them, Nephis moved to Sunny's side, their faces nearly touching as she whispered something in his ear.

The effect was immediate and dramatic. Sunny's eyes widened, understanding dawning across his features like the first rays of sunrise. His lips curved into a knowing smile as he began summoning previously untapped memories.

The manifestation took precisely seven seconds, materializing out of brilliant sparks of silver light. The spectacle left the onlookers transfixed, their fear momentarily forgotten in the face of such beauty.

What emerged was extraordinary - a leaf-shaped blade attached to a peculiar wooden hilt. The weapon seemed to capture and reflect Sunny's unsettling smile, its surface gleaming with an otherworldly polish that suggested an edge sharper than rational physics should allow.

The blade was notably shorter than conventional swords, perhaps fifty centimeters in length, but its presence commanded attention. The hilt, crafted from what appeared to be ancient wood, possessed an unnatural darkness that seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it.

But Sunny saw far more than his companions could perceive. His enhanced vision revealed the memory's intricate weave, causing his smile to deepen. He had successfully upgraded the Cruel Sight, transforming it from its original state as a fourth-tier ascended rank memory into something far more potent - a seventh-tier transcendent rank weapon now known as the Abyssal Glaive.

Seven soul shards blazed with intense light, and the weave had evolved beyond mere strings of light. Now it incorporated countless shadowy threads that seemed to defy the natural order. With practiced skill, Sunny extended the hilt, transforming the short sword into a deadly spear.

His shadows, freshly returned from the Tyrant's corpse, merged with him, amplifying his capabilities beyond their previous limits.

His shadow companions - saint, nightmare, saint, and nightmare - gathered around him, all now elevated to transcendent rank, though of varying tiers. Fiend remained in its evolutionary state, while serpent focused on recovering Sunny's essence and protecting rain.

Even with his enhanced abilities and transcendent shadows, Sunny harbored no illusions about defeating over nine hundred Great beasts and monsters alone.

The surviving saints would help, but their contribution would be limited in the face of such overwhelming odds.

He surveyed the approaching horde of abominations, his unsettling smile never wavering.

His shadow sense filtered through the chaos, providing precise numbers: three hundred beasts, forty-eight monsters, and three demons. The odds were astronomical, but something in his expression suggested he knew something his enemies didn't.

A crucial detail suddenly surfaced in his mind. He turned to face Nephis, lowering his weapon as he stepped closer. Their eyes met in silent communication, his gaze clearly conveying a simple message: 'do it.'

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, his reflection in her eyes adopted an even wider smile before erupting into maniacal laughter.

Time seemed to freeze, but Sunny remained unperturbed, having prepared for this moment.

He found himself transported to the spell-created soul sea, its familiar landscape unchanged save for one crucial addition - an intruder.

The man, Mordret, stood opposite him, but only briefly. In the next instant, he charged toward Sunny with frightening speed, enhanced by seven Shadows. Yet Sunny remained motionless, his mad smile unchanged.

As Mordret closed the distance, reality itself seemed to shudder. Fear flashed across Mordret's face as he attempted to retreat, only to find himself trapped. Sunny's relentless pursuit of power, his constant experimentation with weaving and his soul sea, had led to this moment. Despite the spell's attempts to constrain him, he had always found ways to grow stronger.

He had discovered the spell's secret - the soul sea was merely an illusion. Breaking it required only the will to do so.

And break it he did.

The ground continued to quake, but Sunny's smile never faltered.

Mordret's growing anxiety was evident as he found himself unable to escape, though the reason for his imprisonment remained unclear to him. That would soon change.

When the tremors finally ceased, the soul sea had transformed. A second black sun hung in the void, while thousands of new shadows populated the landscape. Mordret's attempted escape revealed the trap he'd already fallen into - a shadowy arm wrapped around his leg, soon joined by countless others, along with chains and tentacles.

These shadowy constructs bore intricate runes that glowed with an impossible dark light, as if the illumination itself was formed from shadows. Sunny's mastery of runic sorcery, learned from Cassie, had exceeded even her expertise. She had used him, so he had returned the favor, extracting every bit of knowledge he could before their inevitable parting of ways.

The shadows completely engulfed Mordret, transforming him into a dark statue while the soul sea's shadow inhabitants watched the battle unfold.

Without hesitation, Sunny launched himself at the immobilized prince of nothing, his fist piercing straight through where Mordret's heart should have been.

In one fluid motion, he used the same arm to decapitate his opponent, denying him the luxury of a slow death. Throughout the execution, Sunny's smile only grew wider, his eyes alight with pure joy. Nothing could taint this moment of triumph.

The spell's whisper caressed his consciousness, its message clear and triumphant:

[You have slain an ascended titan: Prince of Nothing]

[Your Shadow grows stronger]

Before Sunny could fully comprehend the transformation within his soul, reality yanked him from the soul sea.

Unlike previous transitions, only his consciousness returned to the physical realm; his body remained perfectly still, frozen in the moment he had begun his battle with the Prince of Nothing.

As awareness flooded back, he felt gentle hands cupping his face, drawing his attention to Nephis's captivating eyes. Without hesitation, she pressed her lips to his, and in that singular, perfect moment, Sunny deepened the kiss, pouring months of unspoken emotions into the connection.

When Nephis pulled away too soon, disappointment flickered across his features before reality's harsh demands snapped back into focus.

In one fluid motion, he spun around, gripping his spear with both hands as he vaulted onto nightmare's back. Saint mounted the other nightmare while his counterpart melted into the shadows. Both shadowy steeds followed suit, carrying their riders into the approaching chaos.

Behind them, Effie, Kai, and Jet stood frozen, their jaws slack with shock at Nephis's bold display. She remained unperturbed by their reaction, calmly summoning her memory-weapon.

A long sword materialized in her grasp, its silver surface gleaming with an otherworldly sharpness. She tested its weight with practiced precision, her movements speaking of years of expertise.

One meaningful glance from Nephis was all it took to snap the others into action. Even Jet, the newest addition to their team, understood the unspoken command.

They summoned their own weapons - all transcendent rank, tier 7 armaments that Sunny had crafted for them through months of relentless experimentation with memory weaving.

These weapons represented Sunny's greatest achievement in the art of weaving. He had spent countless sleepless nights perfecting his technique, pushing the boundaries of what was possible until he achieved the seemingly impossible: weaving enchantments without patterns.

Those months of exhaustive practice had finally paid off, each weapon a testament to his dedication.

As Sunny reached the front line of abominations, he launched himself from nightmare's back. The shadowy steeds joined the fray immediately after depositing their riders.

The monsters, though fearsome, proved surprisingly vulnerable without their guardian's amplifying presence. Previously, the tyrant's power had enhanced their strength fivefold, but now they fought with only their natural abilities.

The creatures possessed an unsettling approximation of human form - bipedal with two arms and a head, yet clearly alien in their construction. Their bodies, composed of straw-like material, belied their durability.

Stone-like claws protruded from their arm-endings, and their legs, while humanoid in appearance, possessed impossible speed and strength.

Most distinctive were the cloth coverings draped across their faces, varying in size among the horde.

Sunny noticed a grotesque hierarchy in their presentation - the strongest among them wore shorter cloths, proudly displaying more of their horrific visages, as if their power earned them the right to be seen.

Wielding the Abyssal Glaive, Sunny ignited its divine blade with his essence. The weapon's edge burst into supernatural flames, and with his first swing, an abomination erupted into fire, its straw-like body becoming its own funeral pyre.

His shadow companions worked in perfect synchronization - saint and saint tearing through the monsters while nightmare and nightmare trampled and crushed them beneath shadowy hooves.

The battlefield became a symphony of destruction. Abominations fell in waves - some consumed by divine fire, others ripped apart by shadow-forged claws, and still more cleaved cleanly in two by precise blade-work. Each passing second added to the growing pile of monstrous corpses.

Sunny's essence depleted rapidly as he maintained the divine flames, but each creature that succumbed to fire meant one less threat to his companions. Though his pride yearned to eliminate every threat himself, protecting his cohort, he acknowledged his limitations.

Many abominations slipped past his guard, only to be intercepted by his paired shadows. Those few that evaded even them met their end at the hands of Nephis, Jet, Kai, and Effie, who fought with unexpected effectiveness against the otherworldly horrors.

Then, at the periphery of his awareness, a presence emerged that Sunny had sensed approaching from over thirty kilometers away.

A woman materialized at his side, clad in formidable armor of master-forged metal. Her crimson cape billowed dramatically in the wind, threatening to take flight.

Her hair, nearly as dark as Sunny's own, flowed like liquid midnight behind her as she moved.

A dark smile graced her features, expressing an almost predatory joy at finally being unleashed upon the abominations. There was no mistaking her identity – Morgan, daughter of Valor, had joined the fray.

Her very presence seemed to shift the battlefield's energy, promising that the true battle was only beginning. The smile that played across her lips spoke of both nobility and savagery, a perfect reflection of her legendary heritage.

As she stepped forward, her armor catching the light like freshly spilled blood.