Shadow Slave

Chapter 440 Merciless Stars



Chapter 440 Merciless Stars

Chapter 440 Merciless Stars

After more than three weeks of falling into the Sky Below — at least Sunny thought that it had been that long — he sighed and stood up, balancing on the dangerously swaying treasure chest.

His hair was wet with sweat, and his skin glistened in the piercing white light of approaching stars. By now, they did not resemble white dots in the boundless darkness of the abyss. Instead, each was the size of a fist, surrounded by a furious, blinding halo.

The heat permeating the void was suffocating.

Sunny stared down, at the ocean of white flames beneath him. If this was what remained of the inferno of heavenly fire after thousands of years of burning in an empty void… he shuddered to imagine what it must have looked like right after the hammer of divine punishment had fallen on the ancient land.

His gaze was locked on a small empty space between several radiant stars.

The rift.

This was his goal.

As Sunny stared darkly at the tiny patch of emptiness amid the vast field of flame, the void suddenly spoke:

"Have you… huh? Is that a… uh… what a large tattoo you have."

Sunny glanced at the darkness, then shrugged.

"What about it?"

Mordret lingered for a few moments, as though not sure what to say, then asked with amusement:

"Sunless… are you sure that you are a research assistant?"

Sunny grinned.

"Of course I am! Do you know how many contribution points they give me every month? I scribbled a few words about this and that, and that bought me a house. An entire house! Maybe being a researcher is not as swell as being a prince, but it's still a sweet gig… with all due respect, of course. Your Highness."

The void laughed.

"You are such an interesting person."

Sunny stared into the void with an incredulous expression.

"You are a bit of an enigma yourself, are you not?"

Mordret remained silent for a bit, then asked:

"Are you ready for what is about to come?"

Instead of answering, Sunny pointed to the ocean of merciless stars.

"Look there."

When the lost prince spoke, his voice was strangely regretful:

"I can't really see that well. What is it?"

'Oh… right.'

Sunny hesitated for a few seconds, then said:

"I think I found the rift you told me about."

Mordret asked with surprise in his voice:

"...Really? You found it?"

Sunny shrugged.

"We'll see. You said that it should be somewhere under the Tear, right? Since I fell right into the Tear, there's a chance that I'm right."

The void lingered, then said in a somber tone:

"What if you're not?"

Sunny smiled.

"Then it has been nice knowing you. Anyway… anything else you want to tell me before you go? I doubt that we'll have the opportunity to speak again before I reach the stars."

Mordred thought for a few seconds, then said:

"I might not be able to reach you at all after that. So… good luck?"

Sunny raised an eyebrow.

"Really?"

The voice of the void answered after a long pause:

"Yes. Why?"

He shook his head.

"Nothing, really. I just thought that you are stuck somewhere out there, beyond the stars."

Mordret chuckled.

"...No. I am stuck somewhere else."

His voice grew strangely distant. Then, an almost inaudible whisper reached Sunny's ears:

"I hope… survive… Sunless…"

Then, the lost prince was gone, leaving Sunny alone in the darkness once again.

He sighed.

"Me too. I hope I'll survive, too."

***

After Mordred disappeared, Sunny waited for a bit, and then broke the rule he had set for himself for a second time since starting this expedition — he summoned another Memory that should have been tied only to Mongrel.

The Mantle of the Underworld.

The intricate onyx armor weaved itself from sparks of darkness and covered him from head to toe. Sunny was not accustomed to wearing its closed helmet, since he was usually using Weaver's Mask instead, but it was not uncomfortable. His field of vision, however, became slightly constricted.

'Hopefully, no one will be able to see me this far into the abyss.'

Out here in the Sky Below, he felt as though no one, not even those who were attuned to revelations, could peer into his secrets and glean anything about them.

…The only exception to the rule was the Prince of Nothing himself. But he was gone now.

The Mantle possessed two enchantments that would most likely prove themselves to be extremely helpful soon. The [Stalwart] trait of the armor imbued it with high resistance against various types of elemental damage, including fire. Just seconds after donning it, Sunny felt the suffocating heat retreat, replaced by a pleasant coolness.

How long would that coolness last, he did not know.

The [Living Stone] enchantment, on the other hand, allowed the Mantle of the Underworld to repair itself while being worn. This trait would come into play later, helping Sunny protect himself even after the divine flame became intense enough to damage the onyx armor.

After that, Sunny summoned the dark longbow and the quiver of black arrows. By now, his hand had recovered enough for him to be able to draw the mighty bow… he just hoped that he would not need to.

Finally, he summoned the Cruel Sight and attached it to his belt.

…All preparations were now done.

Looking down through the narrow slit of the visor, Sunny sighed…

Now, everything depended on his resilience, luck… and how deep his reserves of shadow essence were.

***

In the stark darkness of the empty void, deeper than even the memories of a blue sky could reach, a cracked treasure chest was plummeting toward an ocean of searing white flames.

Its underside was bathed in the furious light, while its lid was drowning in the deepest of shadows. Wisps of smoke were slowly rising from its smoldering wood, and the strips of iron reinforcing it were slowly starting to glow as they turned orange.

Sunny, who had become a shadow and was once again hiding on the lid of the dead devil, felt fine… for now. Until the treasure chest was destroyed, he was protected from directly touching the light of the divine flame.

But how long would the corpse of the mimic last?

He was thinking about something else, though… something far more dreadful.

'The rift… the damned rift! I am going to miss it!'


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