The night had indeed been long.
The poison had run its course at some point, but he hadn't managed to catch a single minute of sleep. Hard to, with the chaotic mix of emotions raging inside him, every single one of them roaring for attention.
Why? they asked. Why did he do it?
Why trust? Why love? Why open himself to more suffering? Didn't he have enough of that already?
The most vexing part? He didn't know the answer.
And he hated it.
Just not as much as he hated the pitying stares that Gloomy and Happy were giving him. At least Saint wasn't here—if she pitied him too, he didn't know what he would do.
Nothing good, that was for sure.
Just like how nothing good would come out of sulking in the cave; he couldn't sleep, so he might as well go back out and keep searching for a way out. Decision made, he ate a quick breakfast and left the cave.
The rain was still as omnipresent as before; it only took a second to go from dry to completely drenched. It did not help his already poor mood, not at all.
Doing his best to ignore the dark mood that had yet to disappear—these moods were more numerous nowadays, and they also took longer to recover from—he started walking along the right fork of one of the rivers that covered the valley.
Civilizations tended to settle along rivers, so he was hoping that by following it, he would eventually find some hint of the existence of one. Considering that he couldn't remember a place like this among the many regions he had studied back in the academy, he doubted that there would be any humans around, but he hoped to find some ruins or an undiscovered citadel.
"Sunny the Great, he survived the Forgotten Shore and then went on to explore a completely unknown region and became the master of it. I can already hear the film companies begging me for the rights to the story!"
As usual, the only answer he got was silence. Well, that was wrong—the sound of raindrops hitting the ground was there too. Progress, right?
"Great, now I'm happy to be rained on. I'm leaving this part out when I write the script for the movie."
He kept planning the script of his movie—the first of a trilogy that would develop into a franchise—as he walked along the river. On the outside he might look casual, but he was paying extreme attention to his surroundings.
Appearing unguarded worked quite well on the less intelligent nightmare creatures, lulling them into a false sense of safety that made them all the easier to kill. At least, it was working on the creature that was stalking him from the river.
Which is why, when a dark shape erupted from the water, he was ready. The massive pincer missed his face by a hairbreadth, and just as planned, the proximity made it so that the massive crustacean couldn't evade in time when the [Moonlight Shard] manifested instantly and punched through its brain.
[You have slain an Awakened Monster, Azure Claw]
[Your Shadow grows stronger]
[You have received a memory, Pincer of the Deep]
A quick peek at his runes told him all he needed to know—the memory was useless. Normally it would annoy him, but this time he was happy.
[Shadow Name: Marble Saint
Shadow fragments: 197/200]
With the new memory, along with another he had saved for this purpose, Saint would finally saturate her core. Not willing to wait any longer, he dove straight into his soul sea and fed them to Saint.
The result was glorious. Saint became an Ascended—just like that, his hopes of escaping the Dream World had skyrocketed.
And yet... he couldn't stop bitterness from rearing its ugly head. She already was a far better fighter than he was, and now that distance had become an unbridgeable gap.
Was he going to languish as a Sleeper while everyone else kept growing stronger? Were they all going to leave him in the dust? Why would Saint stay at his side when he was so weak? There was no greater sin than being weak, after all.
"By the time I get out, even Cassie will be stronger than me. The shame alone will kill me."
Naming the seer had been a mistake; his mood was already bad, and remembering her only made it worse. He clenched his teeth in anger to stop himself from thinking further and instead began taking deep breaths while putting to use the relaxation techniques that Teacher Julius had made him learn.
It took a while, but he managed to settle himself. Anger was a great motivator in battle, but in the current situation it did nothing but make things worse.
Ah well, it wasn't like he couldn't handle being the sidekick; pride was a useless thing that he would never be caught having. And yet, his traitorous mind was all too eager to remind him of how things had ended with the last woman he had played sidekick for.
He steeled his heart. Saint would never abandon nor betray him; of that he was sure.
"You thought the same thing about Her, didn't you?"
His traitorous mind never missed a chance to pour salt over the wound, did it?
-------------------------------------------
Hours later, he was approaching another fork in the river. This time, there were three directions he could follow. Left and right went further into the valley, without any discernible landmarks on the horizon. The one in the center, on the other hand, would have him climbing up a small hill. Rather curious, considering that he was following the river downstream. As usual, the dream realm treated the laws of physics as nothing more than a suggestion.
Without a better idea, he decided to follow the center fork. At the very least, it would allow him a better view of the area.
Surprisingly, the climb was completely uneventful. No monsters attacked him and no natural disaster suddenly occurred. Others could think him paranoid, but he had been on the bad side of no fewer than four storms, two hurricanes, and an earthquake in just the last two months. Considering the endless rain, he suspected that the first flood wasn't too far off either.
One could say many things about [Beloved Child of Fate], none of them good, but it certainly made his life interesting.
Wait, didn't Teacher Julius say once that wishing someone to live in interesting times was considered a curse? Hard to tell. The old man had tried to cram so many things into the month they spent together that it was hard to be sure.
Tangent aside, he had finally reached the peak of the hill. Sadly, there wasn't much to be seen—just more valleys and rivers ahead.
Sunny sighed and resumed the march.
-------------------------------------------
[You have slain a Dormant Demon, Brood of the Emotion Eater]
[Your shadow grows stronger]
It was almost scary to witness the massacre that the now Ascended Saint could deliver when facing dormant nightmare creatures. The battle had started with a hundred foes on the opposite side and now, just a few minutes after it started, only a dozen remained. She wasn't even being empowered by shadows yet.
Sunny would have to work really hard if he didn't want to be completely left behind. Mind set, he finally joined the battle, cutting down with ease a creature that had been lagging back, probably awaiting the perfect moment for a surprise attack. Ha, like that was going to work on someone of Saint's caliber.
A slight hiss in the air was the only warning he got of an incoming attack. It was enough.
He took a step back, leaving him right outside the range of the attack; he witnessed, almost in slow motion, how a pair of claws passed millimeters away from his nose—missing him but cutting off a few strands of his long hair. He had to cut it one of these days; it was starting to get in the way.
The attack passed and the claws disappeared once more. It had to be some sort of camouflage or else he would have seen the creature coming. Not trusting his eyes, he closed them and relied instead on hearing and shadow sense.
Just a second later, another attack came, this time from his right side. Instead of dodging, he positioned the pauldron of the [Underworld Mantle] in its way, trusting that it would be more than enough to stop the attack. Sure enough, the claws bounced, leaving his enemy completely exposed.
He empowered himself slightly with essence and delivered a brutal slash that sent the head of his enemy flying.
[You have slain an Awakened Devil, Scout of the Emotion Eater]
[Your shadow grows stronger]
That was new. Up to now, all of them, including the awakened versions, had been called just 'Brood' while this one seemed to be more advanced. It worried him too; an Awakened Devil as just a scout meant that the Tyrant couldn't be any weaker than a Fallen.
Judging it to be future Sunny's problem, he refocused on the battle. Saint had ended the last of the dormant enemies, but another horde was approaching—this time, they were all awakened. Normally, he would have retreated; who knew if there were more coming, after all.
But his own weakness worried him more than the enemy could. If he couldn't face those odds with an Ascended at his side, then he couldn't hope to brave whatever dangers were awaiting him further into the unexplored region.
"..."
Was that...? Yes, it seemed like the command of his dear Master didn't like his odds. Fortunately, it couldn't force him to do anything just yet. He had tested it thoroughly over the past months, after all.
It started as a whisper, annoying but tolerable—usually when he was facing some sort of danger he wasn't quite sure he could handle. The intensity would start to rise until eventually becoming a deafening roar as the danger increased or if he didn't act. If ignored for too long or the danger became great enough, his body would start moving on its own, forcing him to escape at all costs.
Hah, it was like having a personal demon—one who loved nothing more than whispering mockingly in his ear just how weak he was.
So, despite it not being the wisest of moves, he didn't run. Instead, he summoned the [Ordinary Rock] and enhanced it with both shadows, then threw it with perfect precision among the incoming horde.
"WAKE UP!"
The deafening shout produced by the [Ordinary Rock] was enough to stun the unprepared enemies. Not wasting the chance, he called back his shadows—one for him and another for Saint—and slashed at the closest awakened.
[You have slain...]
[Your shadow...]
He didn't stop even for a second; they wouldn't be stunned for long, and he had to cull their numbers while he could. He doubted the same trick would work again, after all. Four more foes fell—a pittance compared to the harvest reaped by Saint—before they recovered. The deadly dance started in earnest; the Brood were as ferocious as they were ugly, and they were very ugly.
"Sur..."
The command was getting louder too. If he didn't win soon, he would be forced to retreat. Refusing to entertain the thought, he focused as much as he could on the creatures and the way they fought. He had been stuck right at the edge of attaining the second mastery of [Shadow Dance] for ages, and he felt like this battle could prove to be the spark necessary to finally achieve it.
He captured the way they moved, the way they breathed, every twitch of their muscles, the movement of their eyes signaling where they were going to strike, the microexpressions—even the way they scrunched their noses, just to be sure.
The one in front of him was going to strike with its claws at his collarbone: step to the left and counter—dead. The one behind was going to try to bite his head off: crouch and impale its eye with the [Moonlight Shard]—dead. Two steps from him, two of the creatures had managed to coordinate a pincer attack that would catch him if he didn't move perfectly: a twist to the right to avoid the worst of the first attack, a twist to the left so that the second would hit the most resistant part of his armor. It hurt, but he survived. The enemies didn't.
His brain felt like a sponge being squeezed dry, but he refused to stop. He needed to become stronger—strong enough to survive, strong enough to escape this hell, strong enough to be no one's slave.
At some point, without Sunny even realizing, he stopped seeing the Brood, and instead he was facing the shadows of his past.
The director of the orphanage, who told him in no uncertain terms that he wasn't going to be adopted before kicking him out.
The lowlife who stole his last scrap of food—that was the first day he starved.
The friend who tried to kill him just for a half-empty synthpaste tube.
The girl he believed he had loved stabbing him in the back to get in the good graces of one of the gangs.
The detective he had paid to find Rain, advising him not to approach her, that she was better off without him.
Hero, so full of self-righteousness and justifications.
Caster, reminding him that no matter how far he got, the world would still see him as a rat.
And Her...
He didn't even know when he started, but he was screaming—a wordless, senseless expression of utmost fury.
At what? He wasn't sure.
All he knew was that he was angry—angry at the Brood, angry at the shadows that haunted him, angry at the world itself. But more than anything else, he was angry at his own weakness. The same weakness that had him stuck all alone in hell; that had him trust despite knowing better.
Why? He kept asking himself that question. The fact that he didn't have an answer only made him angrier.
So he kept fighting. He kept fighting despite the increasing number of wounds he was receiving. He kept fighting when one of the beasts managed to tear a chunk out of his ear, when a brutal stab almost disemboweled him.
He only stopped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. The anger flared and he turned around to retaliate—only to see Saint. They were alone; no nightmare creature remained.
No word was said, no gesture to indicate her displeasure, and yet he could still feel her disappointment.
"You have to control yourself." Had she been able to speak, he was sure those would have been her words. Sunny hung his head low, heart full of shame.
Was he truly so weak that even the taciturn shadow was worried?
"I'm so—"
His attempt to apologize was cruelly interrupted by the voice of the Spell.
[Your shadow is overflowing with power.]
[Your shadow is taking shape.]
The pain hit right after—brutal, relentless, tyrannical in its all-encompassing intensity. It was even worse than last time.
-------------------------------------------
When he came back to his senses, he was under the canopy of a big tree. A look to his side revealed Saint, silently standing guard over him. She must have carried him away from the battlefield.
"Thank you, Saint."
A barely perceptible nod was all the answer he received.
He wanted to talk more, to let her know just how much he appreciated her, but a movement at his feet distracted him, revealing a shadow that was neither Gloomy nor Happy. His hopes had been proven right.
[Shadow cores: 3/7
Shadow Fragments: 3/3000]
He was officially a Demon now. A small speck of hope appeared in his heart. It grew even bigger when he saw another piece of good news in his runes.
[Aspect Legacy: Shadow Dance.
Shadow Dance Mastery Level: 2/7.
First Relic: Claimed.
Second Relic: Claim.]
In the same battle, he had finally mastered the second step of [Shadow Dance], bringing his combat capabilities even further. He was still weak, but he must be closing the gap at least.
...
He shouldn't.
...
It was a bad idea.
...
Whenever he did, a dark mood that would take hours to go away would come over him. But he wanted to know. He wanted to validate that his efforts were not for nothing.
[Master: Changing Star
Soul cores: 5/7
Soul Fragments: 2468/5000]
...Why did he expect anything else? Last month, when he checked, she was still a Devil, and now she was almost halfway to becoming a Terror. He was doomed to always fall behind, to be lesser, a pathetic shadow that couldn't even exist without a master.
Laughter erupted out of him; he didn't even mind the way Saint or his shadows were looking at him.
If weakness was a sin, then he must be the greatest of sinners.