Shadow Slave- Back in time.

Ch. 32

By the time four months had passed, the outskirt resembled a well-functioning village.

Those who had been considered weak were organised in hunting groups. They were able to hold their own in a fight even against creatures that outclassed them in rank, speed and strength.

It was all thanks to Sunny. He had managed to turn starved weaklings into a quite fearsome force, by pointing out the flaws in their movements, stances and correcting various other mistakes.

He was respected, although all those who had been instructed by him thought he was a real Devil!

Sitting on his bed, Sunny stared at his runes.

Name: Sunny

True Name: Lost From Height.

'What?'

Sunny blinked and rubbed his eyes.

True Name: Lost From Light

'Uh.'

He must've seen wrong.

Rank: Dreamer

Shadow Cores: [4/7]

Shadow Fragments: [18/4000]

He was, in fact, a real Devil.

He looked at Changing Star's runes, quite satisfied. He was still- kind of- keeping up with her, despite the numerous factors that allowed her to raise in class much more easily than him, such as her Innate Ability and the fact that she could get hundreds of fragments from killing another Sleeper. Not that she had murdered any fellow human. Yet.

Soul Fragments: [2347/4000]

She was more than half-way to becoming a Tyrant.

'Speaking of the Devil' Sunny thought as her voice invaded his mind.

Caster is back. The meeting is just before dawn.

I'll be there. See you.

See you.

So, the bastard had come through. Not that he had expected anything different. Even if he had been in the Dark City in the original time-line, it must've happened at some point. Sunny would be there this time.

----------------

The trashing of the Dark Sea could be heard from the Dark City as the Sun disappeared into the horizon. Finally, the last remnants of light were snuffed out, and the endless dark waters grew motionless like the surface of a black mirror.

Six figures felt a chill crept up their spines as the noise of the expanding sea finally ceased.

They were humans, armed to their teeth. They were donning heavy armours; one carried a longsword, another an axe. Their faces were hard and ugly. They were clearly members of Gunlaug's guard. Not high in the ranks, though: while their equipment seemed imposing, the quality was barely decent for the Bright Lord's minions.

A strange lantern appeared in the hand of the man leading the group. It cast an eerie blue light, faintly showing the path. Its eerie light would not lure any monster.

They traversed the streets of the godforsaken city in silence, the only noise their steps on the cracked terrain.

Suddenly, one of the man huffed. He wasn't armed. Instead, a curiously shaped bag was slung over his shoulder like a damsel being carried by a running prince.

"Hey, Mark, it's your turn now. This handsome son of a bitch may not look like it, but he's pretty heavy."

The guy wielding a longsword, who must've been called Mark, scowled.