Before the black greatsword could descend upon Saint, a flash of sky blue flames intercepted the strike. She did not shield her eyes from the sudden wave of essence. She dodged to Sunny's flank, spinning the Prowling Thorn in a tightening circle and wrapping it in a single, dense shadow.
Saint materialized her shield and fell into a solid stance. Behind her, white sparks coalesced into the form of a grand bird. She intended to prevent the Silvershade Harrow from becoming a pile of ash due to the proximity of Sunny's unholy power.
Sunny was significantly stronger than her in this state, and the chilling cold of his blue flames passed through standard defenses. It was only the presence of the [Dyad of Shadow] that shielded her from the freezing lethality of his aura.
The Forsaken Knight did not possess such a connection.
But unfortunately, neither did the Silvershade Harrow.
As the great owl took form, its owl-like head tilted under the force of a sudden shockwave. Saint charged forward with her shield positioned to intercept the Knight's focus.
Sunny's subconscious appeared active. His movements mirrored the mastery he had honed in the Nightmare, transcending basic swordsmanship. He moved with the precision of one who had mastered every weapon and the art of channeling essence through the body.
He was capable of controlling his essence, after all, having assimilated the core attribute of the shadow Serpent; he possessed [Shadow Guide].
The Knight twisted its blade to slash Saint, but Sunny acted. He leapt, mid-air, and used his feet to grapple the flat of the black blade. A blue ring of light appeared above his head, and the pressure of the Knight's strike vanished, absorbed by Sunny. He delivered an ice spike from his knee into the Knight's chest, infused with a condensed point of blue flame. The resulting explosion sent the Devil flying into the stone wall.
Sunny landed. His abyssal eyes peered into Saint as small motes, resembling a nebula, appeared at his feet.
He was learning to use the Miracle of the Storm God.
The Forsaken Knight rose, its injuries mending within the sanctuary of the True Darkness. Cloaked in that darkness, the Knight was an engine of silent slaughter, its body repairing every fracture rapidly.
Saint spoke, her voice pleasant and enthralling.
"Milord, if you can understand me, then listen. In the coming moments, Silvershade is going to fly around this hall and damage all the support pillars. While doing so, I need you to cover it. I'll try my best to but… fighting in this body is still a new experience for me."
She smiled at him.
"Can you do that, for me?"
Sunny stared at her for a moment, then at the pillars. He began walking toward the Knight, providing Saint no answer.
'It seems due to being in a state of slumber, his flaw doesn't require him to answer.'
Saint commanded the Silvershade to strike the supports. She required the pillars to be ruined so she could utilize them as weapons.
She… she intended to bring the entire cathedral down upon the Knight.
After all, there was no plan to return to this place. Their destination lay elsewhere on the Forgotten Shore, where Nephis and the others should be. Or well, last she remembered.
She wasn't actually sure of their current situation. But regardless…
Saint blocked the Knight's stray attacks, shielding the Silver shade. Simultaneously, she threw the Prowling Thorn from pillar to pillar, weaving a spiderweb of wire through the grand hall.
Sunny took the front. He intercepted every slash intended for the owl or Saint. He possessed Soul Flame and was devoid of fear. His flame recovered all damage as he fought in his unconsciousness.
Throughout the battle, Saint observed the shifting tides of the engagement as she continued to weave the spiderwebbed trap with the Prowling Thorn.
It appeared that Sunny's subconscious was still acclimating to the sheer breadth of his powers. His movements had been formidable before, but it was only now that his past mastery truly began to surface, rising like a leviathan from the depths of his soul.
'No. Something is not right…'
She could not yet place her finger on the source of her unease.
Ahead, Sunny coated his fingers in a layer of extremely dense ice, raising a hand to catch the descent of the black blade. The Forsaken Knight, sensing the trap, twisted the weapon away and instead delivered a solid, bone-crushing punch.
Sunny was significantly smaller than the knight, though he stood taller than he once had. He dismissed the ice upon his digits and suddenly utilized a power he had kept hidden throughout the struggle.
Multiple black veins emerged upon his skin. It was as if a new tide of dark blood had been born within him, flowing down his leg to deflect the knight's strike.
Saint's breath hitched.
'Liquid Darkness?'
It appeared hauntingly similar to True Darkness. It explained his perfect clarity within the cathedral's gloom.
Using that darkness, he focused his intent upon his fingertips as he vaulted over the knight's subsequent swing. The Knight's crimson eyes widened in surprise as Sunny drove his hand forward. Wreathed in blue flames, his hand pierced through the monster's neckplate.
Before the knight could react, the power within Sunny's hand erupted. Blood sprayed outward, freezing instantly in the air. The armor did not merely freeze; it converted into ice before shattering like fragile glass.
Saint paused in her work.
'Should I even continue?'
The sheer competence Sunny displayed made her question if her intervention was even necessary. He was proving himself more than capable of contending with the Devil. He was adapting with terrifying speed, merging the characteristics of his affinities — placing the weight of his ice upon the lethality of his Soul Flame while mixing both into his raging shadows.
He was manipulating the literal nature of pressure, weakening the knight's force only to strike back with that same stolen momentum.
It was magnificent, yet Saint's expression twisted with concern.
Something… something was running out.
As the support pillars cracked under the careful strikes of the Silvershade, Saint neared the completion of her trap. But Sunny was slowing down. His arm was healing with less speed, and the golden hue of his hair was receding, revealing more of his natural black.
The transformation was beginning to come undone.
Even the abyssal darkness of his eyes flickered, threatening to return to a human white.
The Forsaken Knight performed a violent, full-body twist, swinging its greatsword in a wide circle to force Sunny back. When he landed, he performed a sudden, jarring movement, driving his hand into his own chest.
His hand turned spectral, passing through flesh without drawing blood. He pulled out the familiar white sentences of a Fable.
Saint's face fell as she realized the script was fragmented and broken.
'D-DAMMIT!'
She screamed inwardly, her alarm reaching a fever pitch.
"SUNNY! DON'T—"
It was too late. The white sentences, carried by his starlit hand, began to emit a dissonant sound. It was the voice of the 'Story'. He was forcing the frequency to erupt from his very fables.
Saint cursed her own helplessness. She knew the consequences of attempting to narrate an incomplete story; it was information forced into the mind of any being capable of perceiving the 'Story'.
Through her link to him, she heard the Spell's voice ring out through the hall.
[The Fragmented Giant Story, 'Hell of Eternity', has begun storytelling!]
[The Fragmented Myth, 'Paradise of Despair', has begun storytelling.]
[The Fragmented Myth, 'Season of Light and Darkness', has begun storytelling.]
[The Fragmented Myth, 'Supreme King of Formless Arts', has begun storytelling.]
Hell of Eternity— the story created during three thousand years within the Eternal Nightmare.
Paradise of Despair — the tale of giving one's self to godhood and still failing to defeat Avarice.
Season of Light and Darkness — a myth created after his True Name, a divine art allowing gods to impose themselves upon the world in otherworldly manners. It unleashed the Flame and Shadows within him to an unforeseen limit.
Supreme King of Formless Arts — the record of every technique, skill, and art he had mastered across his eternity.
Saint's face went pale as the sentences flowed out of his being. They emitted a frequency that rattled the cathedral before wrapping back around his core, fusing with his existence once more.
The repercussions manifested with a sudden, violent clarity. Sunny spat out a thick clot of blood; more began to stream from his eyes, ears, and nose, staining the gold-tinged strands of his hair.
'No… the Probability won't allow it.'
Forcing the stories of a version of himself that had lived for thousands of years upon a body that remained merely a Dormant was an act that defied the logic of the world. Such a feat should have required him to recite his 'Story' for weeks, perhaps months, for the physical body to even begin to adapt.
Furthermore, those stories were broken.
The physical body of the world is a world of 'Story'. There are no exceptions, whether you are a God, human, otherworldly, or Void Being. All beings breathe through a 'Story' and exist through a 'Story.'
When a 'Story' is fragmented, however, parts of that existence simply fade away like incomplete ink upon a page. By attempting to storytell these incomplete fables into being, Sunny was presenting the world with a fatal contradiction.
He was claiming to exist and not exist at the exact same moment. The Law of Mysteries, designed to protect the integrity of the world lines, reacted to this abnormality with the cold efficiency of an executioner.
Saint felt her heart plummet. White sparks of Probability began to rage around Sunny's form, assaulting him with the intent to erase him from the Memory of Gaia.
The white sparks were moving to banish him to the Etheric Sea or strike him from existence entirely. Saint plunged the Prowling Thorn into the stone wall, anchoring her trap and hoping the spiderweb of string would hold.
The tide of the battle had turned. Saint dove toward Sunny as he succumbed to what looked like a violent seizure. His body was being wracked by the attempt to ground his history in the present. While the records of the Hell of Eternity and Paradise of Despair were being violently rejected, the story of his arts — the fragmented fables of his training — was successfully taking root, imbuing him with skills his physical body was never meant to hold.
The Forsaken Knight, a Devil of high intelligence, saw exactly what she did. It recovered from the shock of the frequencies and rushed forward, the black blade lifted to finish the boy.
"Augh—!"
Saint shielded Sunny with one arm, raising her cracked shield with the other. The impact sent them both tumbling through the rows of shattered pews. The air was knocked from her lungs as she struggled to maintain her grip on him.
She lay on her back with Sunny draped across her chest, the Knight looming over them like a specter of death.
The exit was too far. The Silvershade was waiting, but the timing was lost.
She moved to shove Sunny aside, preparing to take the hit with the Midnight Shard, but… a firm arm gripped her waist.
With a burst of speed that blurred her perception, she was pulled away. The ground where they had just been was obliterated by the Knight's greatsword.
Saint looked up as the movement ceased. Sunny stood before her, his skin a map of glowing white cracks and starlight. His True Body was struggling against the 'Counter Force' of Gaia, fighting the world's desire to erase him.
His hair had flickered back to a brilliant gold. His eyes were once again twin abysses, but now they held a golden light within the darkness — the terrifying radiance of divinity.
His face was distorted by a smile so wide it tore at his own flesh to reveal a row of white teeth. He looked horrifying. He looked… delighted.
His voice emerged as a dual echo, overlapping in the dark air.
"I'll devour you… I'll devour that darkness of yours whole! Tehee!"
Sunny raised his left hand and clenched his fingers. The spatial fabric within the cathedral rattled.
In the blink of an eye, the True Darkness the knight had unleashed throughout the hall was sucked away, pulled into a condensed ball within Sunny's palm. The Forsaken Knight fell to its knees as the visceral loss of its power struck it down.
Inside Sunny's hand, the coiling darkness converted into black flames, weaving itself into the shape of a bow. His crazed eyes snapped toward the webbed trap Saint had created.
He grabbed Saint by the waist, pulling her flush against him. Utilizing the Divine Miracle of the Storm God, he leapt backward through the air. In the same motion, his intent dismissed the Silvershade — unfettering the grand owl from existence.
As the Forsaken Knight struggled back to its feet, sensing the absolute loss of its advantage, it turned its gaze toward the boy.
If the creature had been capable of turning pale, it would have done so in that moment.
Sunny's arms clapped together with a resounding crack, and he drew something apart with a violent, straining motion.
The heavy, blue sky-flames stretched between his hands, solidifying into the shape of a straight arrow. Paradoxically, the projectile began to coil and drink from his very essence, expanding in size until it was a monstrosity of flickering abyssal cold and gravity.
Without a single word of warning, he loosed it.
The recoil alone unleashed a shockwave that acted as a propulsion, boosting their flight and sending both Saint and Sunny soaring backward through the grand cathedral doors.
Inside the hall, the Forsaken Knight faced its final moments. It attempted to weave through the path of the bolt, only to realize too late that the arrow was not aimed at its heart.
The projectile struck the tip of the knight's black blade, shattering the tempered darkness into a thousand fragments, before connecting with the web of Prowling thorn.
The trap, which Saint had wrapped in her own shadow, ignited instantly. The support pillars, already groaning under the stress of the battle, were suddenly overwhelmed by a surge of raw, volatile essence. They exploded in a chorus of thunder.
The entire cathedral lost its structural integrity. The vaulted ceiling, a ruin of stone and history, succumbed to gravity and collapsed upon the Forsaken Knight.
The creature's final sight was a beautiful, devastating mosaic of multi-colored stars bursting in the dark.
Cruelly deprived of its True Darkness and its primary weapon, the knight was grounded into the earth. The massive weight of the cathedral buried it entirely.
Outside the entrance, having tumbled and come to a rest upon the stone steps, Sunny and Saint lay in the settling dust as the Spell delivered its cold, final message.
[Your memory has been destroyed.]
[You have slain a Fallen Devil, Forsaken Knight.]
[Your shadows are stirring...]
—
Saint kept her eyes shut for a long while, simply holding onto the Sunny's limp form as his body went slack.
Whatever that final, desperate exertion of his had been, it had literally knocked him out. Though, considering his subconscious had been waging a war alongside whatever otherworldly, unholy shadow possessed him, he had been asleep to begin with.
The collapse of the majestic cathedral did not remain a local affair. Sunny's blue flame had traveled through the spiderwebbed trap she had created, igniting a chain reaction of raw, volatile essence.
Saint had not anticipated this. She had imagined the Silvershade merely tugging at the supports; yet this lunatic Sunny had instead chosen to set the world ablaze and blow it all to hell!
It took some time for the tremors to subside. Saint remained motionless, utilizing Shadow Sense to perceive the settling debris. '
When she finally sat up, she surveyed the ruin.
The cathedral was gone. What had once been a towering monument was now a jagged pile of sharp wood and splintered stone.
The Spell's cold voice informed her of the Forsaken Knight's death. She could not help a flicker of surprise. When she had felt Sunny's visceral mental command for aid, she believed him to be in mortal danger — a feeling that had only intensified upon realizing the caliber of his opponent.
Now, having witnessed him in the throes of that transformation, she realized he had been more capable than she had given him credit for. Even without her, he could have survived for a long while against the towering Devil. His Soul Flame would have seen to that.
But two factors ensured he would have eventually lost.
Sunny was a Dormant Devil, while the Knight was a Fallen one. Despite his massive pool of shadow essence, he was burning through his vitality at an unsustainable rate. In a battle of attrition, he would have eventually flickered out.
And second, he was unpracticed. He had just emerged from the Reverse Side of the World, only to be thrust into a gruesome, high-stakes conflict before his soul could even find its footing.
Perhaps a third factor existed — the fact that his body was still actively evolving. His subconscious, realizing the transformation was nearing its limit and that defeat was looming, had instinctively reached for his Fables.
Calling upon one's own Fables was a technique reserved for the Divine. A mortal could only grasp it through a state of incarnation or by having stood among the Gods themselves. Sunny had fulfilled both criteria.
But his situation had just descended into a different kind of hell because of that action, now. Saint knew that when he finally truly awakened, his worldview would be fractured.
Forcing broken fables to emit their frequencies in such a way carried a heavy price.
'Oh dear… he might see things he wished he did not.'
The best-case scenario involved a state of dissonance. He might perform actions belonging to his other self or see glimpses of a thousand-year torment he wasn't yet meant to.
The worst-case was self-destruction. Sunny's identity could split and shatter under the error of conflicting lives. If he could not reconcile who he was with who he had been, his very mind would break, causing his body to disperse into nothingness.
Saint felt a sharp pang of frustration at her own incompetence.
'Just how did I not account for this…'
It was not improbable for him to act so recklessly while unconscious. He was a cornered beast seeking an edge. The only boon was that the fragmented myth of his arts had taken root; when he woke, he would possess the skills of a veteran of a thousand wars. He would be an even better fighter than she was.
Looking at the boy in her arms, Saint made a silent, cold vow. She would never allow such a desperate measure to be necessary again. This had occurred because his subconscious believed he would die without it.
Next time, she would be stronger.
Saint looked up, her expression hardening with determination. She summoned the Silvershade Harrow once more. The massive bird materialized behind her, its silver mask gleaming in the dust.
She gave it a sharp command to dig through the rubble.
She required the dark gem — the Black Soul Shard — produced by the Forsaken Knight's death. She knew exactly what was halting her own evolution, and she would not remain an Awakened for much longer.
If the [Inheritance] attribute provided any reliable indication, Saint should have possessed her full range of abilities in this moment.
Yet, she remained merely an Awakened Monster. She could feel two additional cores within her struggling to manifest, only to falter because a fundamental piece of her existence was missing.
That piece was the black gem — the piece that granted her [Weapon Sage] and [Underworld Armament]. These were the pillars that allowed her other aspects to flourish.
For some reason, [Inheritance] had not restored them.
Perhaps the probability was insufficient. The realization was baffling, considering that only she, Abaddon, Lethe, and Sunny had crossed into this world. Whatever the cause, the attribute only accounted for the boons of her alterations and her two affinities. It was unable to restore her status as a Devil or return her lost abilities.
She would reclaim them once she held what was missing. The Silvershade Harrow continued its labor, tearing through the debris to locate the prize.
Sunny remained in her lap. Saint looked at him for a long while, her worry competing with a clinical analysis of his body.
It was rare to observe him with such a calm expression. The quiet was a luxury they seldom shared.
"Milord…"
The difference between the Sunny of her shared dreams and the boy before her was striking. His hair was shorter; he lacked the maturity of the man he had been in the nightmare. The body in that trial had the appearance of a man of twenty-eight, while the one before her was seventeen.
Yet the nightmare had left its mark. Sunny had been five feet six inches tall his entire life, but the boy now measured at least five feet eight. His frame, once refined and slight, carried a denser musculature. The training he had gone through in the nightmare had successfully integrated into his physical form.
She brushed her fingers through his hair and realized it was longer than it should have been. This change had occurred during the stasis of the nightmare, even though the world outside had been frozen.
Saint felt a flicker of surprise at the sensation. His hair was unnaturally soft. She touched her own and realized the texture was identical.
'An effect of our Shells?'
On his right arm, stretching from the wrist to the elbow, a silver tattoo glowed faintly. It appeared as a collection of runes wrapped tightly around his limb.
'The Silver Weave.'
It was the archive of spells the original Sunny had created throughout billions of lives. Saint felt a surge of gratitude for the gift, tempered by the sorrow of what it had cost him to create.
'…At least he's at rest now.'
On his left arm was the mark of Soul Serpent, obtained the moment the nightmare ended. Sunny had fulfilled the requirements for his Aspect Legacy by experiencing the necessary dreams and possessing the knowledge of the first step.
Yet, a grim thought occurred to her.
'Is something preventing him from mastering the third step?'
Her face hardened. If he could not progress, it was likely a result of his fable damage. His mind had been affected to such a degree that the Spell determined he had failed to master the subsequent steps, despite the knowledge contained within his fables.
Her peaceful observation ended as the Silvershade emitted a sharp hoot. The owl had found the dark gem. It landed before her, balancing the prize upon its silver mask.
Saint took the gem and whispered a quiet thanks to the creature.
…But she hesitated before absorbing it. She looked toward the horizon, where the nameless sun cast its light across the ruined landscape.
'Evolving in such an open space is unwise. I am no longer a pure creature of shadow.'
She placed the gem in the sleeve of her mantle. She still needed to address the garment, for it possessed the enchantment known as [Graceless Dusk].
That single enchantment was the entirety of the [Shroud of Graceless Dusk], fused into the seventh enchantment of her [Marble Shell]. Both her and Sunny's shells now possessed thirteen enchantments, the result of a master Weaver and a divine builder working in tandem. Fusing two separate enchantments to create a seventh that held six more within it was a feat of impossible craft.
The presence of [Graceless Dusk] was the reason her mantle, which should have been a set of luxurious and black armor, manifested instead as a fusion of plate and silk. A more accurate description was that it consisted of silk, yet the armor had been broken down to an impossible, infinitesimal level and woven directly into the fabric.
Each magnified the other, forging a synergy that made both far stronger.
Despite the fact that Saint did not appear to wear a full set of heavy plate, the black and white silk was far more durable than it could ever be without that enchantment. Her appearance seemed significantly less protected, but her actual resilience was far greater.
She was thankful for the craft.
She then signaled the Silvershade, and the great bird lowered one of its many colored wings to allow her to board.
Saint decided she would undergo her evolution mid-flight. She was uncertain how the process would unfold; it would not be a mere retreat into Sunny's Soul Sea to fall into a deep slumber. Now that she existed as a phantasm — an "other" granted illusionary life — she was closer to a human than a Shadow Creature.
She lifted Sunny's limp body in a bridal carry and climbed onto the expansive back of the owl. The creature hooted once, the sound echoing through the ruins, before taking flight. It rose into the sky with a powerful surge, turning toward the horizon.
'The Bright Castle is not far. This trip will be short.'
She let out a quiet sigh. She had delayed the inevitable long enough. She checked on Sunny one last time; the feathers of the Silvershade began to ripple, drawing Sunny into their camouflage and shielding him and Saint from the eyes of anything below.
They were secure in the sky. Only a high-class Fallen or the specific Corrupted creature that had previously ambushed Sunny would have a chance of detecting them.
…Saint felt a cold interest in teaching that particular abomination the meaning of despair.
Mid-flight, Saint lifted the dark gem to her lips.
[Your evolution has resumed.]
She bit down, the gem yielding with a sharp crack. It crumbled into fine black dust which she swallowed. She was surprised that darkness possessed any flavor at all.
'It does not taste bad.'
The luxury of surprise vanished instantly.
[Your shadow is overflowing with power...]
[Your shadow is overflowing with power...]
A shearing, spiking agony she had never before encountered tore through her existence, and she screamed.
She clutched the center of her chest, keeling over against the Silvershade's back. She fell forward, her breath coming in ragged, heavy gasps as she fought to suppress the groans of pain.
'I… understand…'
[Your shadow is taking shape…]
[Your shadow is taking shape…]
Since she was an altered type of the "others," her body was human enough to experience the same visceral torment Sunny did when forming a new shadow core.
But ascension was happening simultaneously. Her fragments were already at a surplus, held back only by the absence of her core gem.
Having attained it, both her rank and her class began to shift. Saint endured the dual sensation of becoming an Ascended and the agonizing birth of two new shadow cores.
She bit her lip, drawing a trickle of blood that was quickly lost to the wind. She kept herself from squirming, her discipline holding firm against the shock of the unexpected pain. She had gone through far worse across the spans of time; this was merely a temporary tax on her new life.
The Silvershade was a fast creature, likely among the swiftest of its rank. It wouldn't be a stretch to say its maximum speed rivaled that of the Corrupted. Time passed, and the evolution reached its conclusion far faster than she had anticipated.
In normal circumstances, such a change would have required days of slumber.
Her rank ascended and her new cores formed in a mere three minutes.
As the pain receded, she let out an involuntary whimper of relief. She felt a new level of sympathy for the struggles Sunny and Nephis had faced with their own cores.
[You have evolved.]
[...Your shadow is complete.]
[...Your shadow is complete.]
Saint lay upon the owl's back, feeling a lethargy that made movement seem like a distant chore. She turned her gaze to Sunny to ensure his stability remained unchanged.
Once satisfied, she allowed herself to relax.
'There is nothing more to do but confirm my abilities have returned.'
She summoned her runes.
Shadow: Phantasmal Saint.
Shadow Rank: Ascended.
Shadow Class: Devil.
Shadow Attributes: [War Master], [Onyx Shell], [Flame of Divinity], [Inheritance], [Heart of Darkness], [Vessel of Nothing], [Living Phantasm], [Diamond Weave], [Shadow's Grace], [Dyad of Shadow].
Shadow Abilities: [Awakened], [Shadow Control], [Weapon Sage], [Underworld Armament], [Mantle of Darkness], [Blade of Darkness], [Shield of Nothing].
Shadow Fragments: [0/200.]
A sense of satisfaction filled her. Though her [Shield of Nothing] was currently a shadow of its former potential, its utility remained grand. There were few creatures on the Forgotten Shore capable of contending with Nothingness. Her defense was once again among the best in this realm.
Her only lingering concern was the abomination that had attacked Sunny in the air. She had not been present for that encounter, having retreated to his Soul Sea to recover from the exhaustion of protecting him against a relentless influx of nightmare creatures while he slept following his battle with the Silvershade.
Saint had been forced to recover further after fending off the Fallen Tyrant, the lord of the dead. Even within the waters of the Soul Sea, she had sensed a presence.
For a Corrupted Nightmare Creature, its aura seemed weaker than it should have been, yet something about it was undeniably eerie.
'I cannot put my finger on it.'
Her face twisted as she navigated her thoughts.
That flying Nightmare Creature certainly was not a Titan, but calling it a Devil did not feel right. The classification of Terror or Tyrant seemed ill-fitted as well. It was a moving cloud of crimson energy, manifest as bursts and thunder. That cloud had engulfed Sunny and the Silvershade before the creature itself had even made contact.
More importantly, it had not been hunting them; it had simply been passing through. It had no intention of killing Sunny because it had found better prey.
Saint went pale. She sprung up, her mind ringing with alarm.
…The direction in which that creature had flown was the same direction as the Bright Castle — the very place they were about to reach.
She tried to calm her racing heart. For all she knew, the creature had departed. A weakened Nightmare Creature would be hunting for easy sustenance and would have no reason to linger.
'But every Sleeper located at the Castle would be dead in such a scenario.'
Saint remained on the Silvershade's back, but a bad premonition took hold of her spirit.
'If a Castle even remains.'
They were about to drop upon the site of the Bright Castle, but she noticed a change in the great owl's behavior.
The Silvershade was not descending. It was not… landing?
Saint let out a tired sigh, wondering if she would already have to face a harrowing Corrupted Nightmare Creature. She was uncertain of its specific strength, but if it were truly weakened, she believed she could fight it alone.
As an Ascended Devil possessing both Nothingness and True Darkness, she was far stronger than she had been during the war in Antarctica. The gap was vast.
However, her worries were founded on a different horror. As she crawled to the edge of the feathers and looked down, she wished she were facing a monster instead of the devastation below.
What she saw was not a hunting ground, but pure and utter ruin. From her height in the sky, every detail was visible.
The blood was… everywhere.
Where a magnificent castle once stood upon a hill, with towering walls of radiant white stone, there was now only a large, gaping hole. Significant sections of the hill had caved in, consumed by some great force.
The rubble was mostly gone; some fragments had fallen so far they were sinking into the nearby sea.
Worse still was the lingering crimson energy. It hung in the air like a foul mist, making her stomach churn.
She spoke, her voice hoarse and thin.
"It's… all gone..."
She was not certain if Nephis, Cassie, Kai, or Effie even existed in this world anymore. She could not use the history of her old world to measure this one.
She had never anticipated a catastrophe of this scale occurring so soon. The Bright Castle was not merely ruined; there were barely any traces left to suggest it had ever existed.
There was practically nothing but that void in the earth. Even utilizing her Shadow Sense, she detected no moving, living shadows. Either the Sleepers had retreated, or the only living souls remaining on the Forgotten Shore were her and Sunny.
She dismissed the latter thought rather quickly. Nephis and her cohort were not the type to die so easily.
Yet, a Corrupted had done this. It was a creature that should be far stronger than the Crimson Terror — and even that Terror had been a nightmare they could not hope to defeat on normal terms.
Somber and quiet, she gave the command.
"Silvershade… fly away. Fly into the cathedral's direction…"
The owl turned at her word, banking away from the ruin.
Saint had no desire to set a camp amidst that lingering, eerie energy. Her plan was simple: Sunny had to wake first.
They could make no real decisions until he returned to himself, now that the Bright Castle was wiped from the map. Her hopes of finding his companions had vanished into the ruins of it all.
There was simply nothing to be done.
Saint looked down at Sunny's peaceful face and prayed that he would not join the dead. She hoped his broken fables would not distort further and claim him while he slept.
Because… she really wouldn't know what she'd do if he left her like this.