Chapter 2702: Shadow Seamster |
How had the Demon of Repose separated living beings from their shadows?
Sunny had no idea.
That shouldn't have been possible. She was not Shadow God, after all. In all Sunny's years, he had only witnessed something similar once: he had met the lost shadows that belonged to the companions of the First Lord of the Bright Castle at the boundary of the Underworld.
Sunny still did not know what exactly had happened to them. All he knew was that it had something to do with either Nothing or Nothing Creatures... come to think about it, there were wisps of nothingness drifting in the central hall of the Palace, as well. Perhaps that had something to do with it. In any case, Sunny was uniquely suited to resolve the fate of orphaned shadows — both back then and now.
The shadows severed by the Demon of Repose were being drawn into the Shadow Realm at the moment. There, they would return to the natural cycle and be reduced to pure essence... which meant that the immortals of the Eterrnal City would become mortal again.
Actually, no. That was not right. They would not become mortal — they would die.
All the bodies that comprised the Flesh of Kanakht would perish. Sunny doubted that it would bring the Great Titan down, though. He did not believe that it cared whether its flesh was dead or alive, after all — it never had. The immortals made for perfect hosts for the malevolent parasite not because they were alive, but because they were undying.
Similarly, the Flesh of Kanakht itself was not going to die. That was because it had never died in the Eternal City, and its shadow was not in the void chamber as a result. The sorcery of the Demon of Repose was not holding it back... or rather, the sorcery that had held it back was long gone.
The barrier built by Daeron did contain it, though. For now, at least — it had been created to prevent a Great Terror from being unleashed upon the world, not a Great Titan.
That was the extent of his current concerns about the shadows drawn into the Shadow Lantern. One shadow remained, though... The shadow of Nightwalker.
Unlike the rest that had to be returned into the embrace of death, that one had to be returned to its original owner instead. But since Sunny did not know what sorcery the Demon of Repose had used to sever it, there was no clear way to reattach it.
It was not like he had no relevant experience, though.
Surprisingly enough, Sunny had done something similar to what he wanted to achieve once. It was during the creation of the Blessing. Back then, he had sewn the shadow of the sword to the shadow of its wielder in order to connect its physical vessel to its spellweave.
It had not been easy, considering that he had to bend the world to his will to succeed However, Sunny had indeed succeeded. Mostly because his Will had already been tyrannical enough, but also because he used Weaver's Needle and possessed authority over shadows.
After all, he was the Lord of Shadows. Sunny had been a Transcendent Terror back then. He was a Supreme Titan now, and his Will was therefore far more terrifying.
So, if he wanted to sew Nightwalker's shadow back to its owner, no one could tell him that it was impossible. It was in his purview to decide what was possible and what was not, to begin with.
‘I doubt it will be effortless, though...’
Laying the shadow of Nightwalker over the inanimate shadow that followed him around, Sunny peered into his soul and saw the splendid radiance of his starlike core. Then, he reached forward and pierced Nightwalker's soul with his needle. Nightwalker gritted his teeth, then let out a curse so dirty and inventive that Sunny almost blushed.
‘What the hell. I did not know those words went together?’
"Settle down. It's just the first stitch. There was far more coming."
Nightwalker glared at him silently.
"Then get on with it!"
Smiling faintly, Sunny did.
***
While one of his avatars was busy reattaching an orphaned shadow to its other half, four incarnations of Sunny were supporting the Shadow Legion in its desperate battle against the wraith army. ‘To be honest, I am a bit... disappointed: Sunny had hoped that his legion would be able to repel the myriad of souls unleashed by the Dutchman. However, the actual outcome was somewhat expected.
After all, the captain of the Dutchman had spent thousands of years accumulating his forces. Sunny, meanwhile, was not even thirty yet.
‘What will I become in a few thousand years I wonder? How vast will my legion be?’
Well, by then, he would not be the Sovereign of Death anymore. He would simply be Death. So, his legion would presumably consist of everyone who had ever died.
If he were to survive at all, naturally.
‘The situation is troubling.'
The number of shades was dwindling. His Shadows were wounded. The formation of the Shadow Legion was pressed against the walls of the Dark Castle, barely wide enougt to defend it.
Nephis was still fighting the Madness of Kanakht, but Jet was nowhere to be seen, which meant the Cursed Wanderer was free to wreak havoc.
However... Sunny had just a plan in mind to turn the situation around.
It required him to make a little sacrifice, but promised a bountiful harvest in return.
‘No sense in wasting time, then.'
A second later, three of his incarnations abandoned the Shadow Legion, leaving only the one augmenting the Puppeteer behind. Robbed of their support and of the dire boon granted by the Curse, the silent shades suffered. More of them were being killed now under the onslaught of wraiths, and fewer enemies were vanquished. The inevitable defeat of the Shadow Legion was brought closer.
But that was, hopefully, alright.
The three incarnations manifested black wings and soared into the air.
They were flying toward the Palace, whose walls were torn and split open by then.
A few moments later, the incarnations dove into one of the rifts and disappeared from view.
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