The Academy in the final days before the solstice was a pressure cooker of grim anticipation.
The casual buzz of learning had vanished, replaced by a focused, heavy silence that clung to
the hallways. You could feel it in the air—a sharp, electric tension that had even the most
arrogant Legacy kids dialling back the bravado. This was it. The final countdown.
The instructors shifted gears completely. No more theoretical deep dives or philosophical
debates about Essence theory. Their lessons became brutally practical, stripped down to bare
essentials. A grizzled Awakened from the War Department drilled us on field triage, his voice
a gravelly monotone as he described how to staunch a wound caused by acidic venom or
psychic backlash. "Your first priority isn't to fight," he'd barked, scanning our faces. "It's to
survive long enough for your Aspect to kick in. Don't be a hero. Be a survivor." Another
instructor, her fingers tracing glowing runes in the air, outlined the most common types of
minor Nightmare Creatures—the Scavengers, the Lurkers, the Swarmlings. "Memorize
these," she commanded, her voice leaving no room for argument. "Knowing what's trying to
kill you is the first step to killing it first."
The cafeteria, usually a place of scattered chatter and occasional laughter, became a sombre
mess hall. Sleepers I'd barely spoken to all year gravitated together, forming quiet, grim
huddles. We didn't talk much. There was nothing left to say. We just sat, eating the excellent
food that suddenly tasted like ash, stealing glances at each other. You'd see someone and
think, Will they make it? and then the darker, more selfish thought: Will I see them again? It
was a room full of people silently saying goodbye.
But the strangest change was in the Legacies. The ones who usually lounged with an air of
bored superiority were suddenly… awake. Their eyes, usually half-lidded with disinterest,
now held a sharp, predatory glint. You'd see them in the combat sims, not going through the
motions, but tearing into the holographic monsters with a vicious, joyful intensity they'd
never shown before. This wasn't training for them; it was a preview. They weren't afraid of
the monsters. They were excited. For them, the Dream Realm wasn't a death sentence—it
was a hunting ground, their birth right, the place where they would finally get to unsheathe
the legendary Memories they'd heard stories about since childhood and prove their clan's
worth. Their quiet conversations were no longer about avoiding danger, but about efficient
killing fields and teamings. For a Legacy, death is more of a shame than a fear.
The whole place felt like it was holding its breath. Every lesson, every meal, every glance felt
weighted with finality. We were all standing on the edge of the cliff, and in a few days, thepush was coming. The only question left was who would fly, and who would fall.
Reality really set in when an Awakened-Roche, or maybe Rouge-called the for one last
assembly, in a room full of Hollows. "Take a goof look around you," he started, his voice and
face as solid as stone. "You may recognise some of these people, you7 might even know
them personally. All of them were Dormant or Awakened, novices or those with a hundred
battles under their belt. And each and every one of them is dead."
Despite knowing his speech beforehand, it still sent a shiver down my spine. These people
were Hollows, Awakened whose souls had been destroyed in the Dream Realm, never to
wake up again. The opposite, those who died in body while exploring the Dream Realm,
were called the Lost, and Nephis' own mother was one of them. Of course, whether or not she
was really dead was still contested in some theories, but it was generally accepted as canon,
just like how Broken Sword was indeed dead. Hmm, didn't Valour also send a whole division
of Lost to guard Mordret in the Chained Isles?
Below me, my shadow flickered. "What, are you planning to add the Prince of Nothing to
your little retinue of misfits and madmen? I approve, if you feel like holding it up to a
vote."
'Come now Sasrir, I might have some grand ideals and expectations for myself, but no way in
hell do I have what it takes to convince that psychopath to work alongside me. Hell, even if I
became a true Hypnotist he could probably brute force his way through it with his will.
Mordret basically has Main Character inner strength.'
"So no Mirror Man, got it. In that case, you want to kill him?"
'Well, I wouldn't say that either...who knows, I'll take things as they come. I'm definitely
heading to the Chained Isles after Awakening, if only to steal from the Ebony and Ivory
Towers. but getting Bone Weave or other stuff like that will take more planning out.'
After giving us his talk, the Awakened led us to our sleeping pods, prepped and ready to
become our coffins at any given time. Charming. The air in the preparation bay was cold and
smelled of antiseptic and ozone. The low hum of machinery was the only sound, a stark
contrast to the frantic energy that had buzzed through the Academy just hours before. Now, it
was all business.
Instructors moved with a grim efficiency, doing final check-ups on our pods. A woman with
fingers that glowed with a soft, diagnostic light ran a scanner over my chest, her expression
unreadable. "Vitals are stable. Essence levels are optimal for a Dormant. You're as ready as
you can be, Sleeper."
As ready as I can be. The words echoed in my head. It was a coin toss. Half the known
Dream Realms could kill you in days. Some, like Godgrave, could do it in minutes. All the
training, all the theory, it all came down to the luck of the draw. I tried to channel a bit of that
cold 'Justice' logic—statistically, my preparation had to improve my odds—but it was hard
to feel statistical when your mortality was on the line.I caught a glimpse of Ben being sealed into his pod, his face pale but set in determination.
Lena was already inside hers, her eyes closed in meditation. I wondered how many of them
would be here when—*if*—I woke up. The thought was a cold stone in my gut.
My pod hissed open. Time to get in.
I lay back on the cool, contoured surface, the lid beginning to lower. The drowsiness hit
almost immediately, a warm, chemical wave that promised to pull me under. It was a fight to
keep my eyes open, to hold onto the waking world for just a few seconds more.
Well, this is it, I thought, the mental words slurring. No turning back now.
"Finally," Sasrir's voice was a clear, sharp thread in my fading consciousness, a welcome
anchor. "I was getting bored. This place has terrible acoustics for brooding."
A weak laugh bubbled up in my mind. 'You're just excited to finally use your powers on
something that isn't a punching bag.'
"A man can only pummel synthetic leather for so long before he yearns for a more…
organic crunch." His tone was dry, but I could feel the underlying current of readiness. He
was poised, a drawn blade in the shadows of my soul.
The lid was almost shut. The world narrowed to a sliver of light.
'Hey, Sassy… try not to let us get eaten by a Great Titan in the first five minutes, okay?'
"Please. I have standards. We're holding out for at least ten minutes before being
devoured by an unspeakable horror." A beat of silence, then his voice softened, losing its
edge for just a moment. "Relax, Adam. I am literally a part of you. My only purpose is to
ensure our survival. I will take care of it. Of us."
The promise was simple, absolute. It was the least friendly and most comforting thing I'd
ever heard.
'Thanks, man.'
The lid sealed with a final, soft hiss. The light vanished, replaced by utter blackness. The last
thing I felt wasn't fear, but a strange, shared resolve.
Then, I slept. And my second adventure began.
**************************************
....
....
…The Fool.....Era...
.....Omniscient Lord....Everything....Calamity...Origin of.....
...Endless Disorder...
...Singularity...All
...Deviants...Source of...
...
...
...
...Who am I?
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I knew something would go wrong. I knew it from the start, and I'm not just talking about the
Dream Realm exploration. The last thing I remembered hearing was the cold, mechanical
voice of the Spell welcoming me, then nothingness. I felt like I was slowly falling down, or
maybe sinking, as layers of soft and warm obstacles broke away when I made contact with
them on my way down. It was...relaxing, to be honest, and I almost desired to stay longer.
But that wasn't meant to be, it seemed, because the feeling vanished as suddenly as it arrived,
and then I was awake and aware once again.Consciousness returned like a slow, muddy tide. My head throbbed, a dull ache behind my
eyes, and my thoughts felt wrapped in thick cotton wool. The transition was never pleasant,
but this was different. This was a deep, unsettling wrongness that I couldn't quite place. I was
lying on something cold and slightly damp, and an oppressive, salty darkness pressed in on
me from all sides.
"Ugh," I groaned, pushing myself up to a sitting position. My limbs felt heavy. "Sasrir. You
awake?"
A shadow peeled itself from the deeper blackness around me, coalescing into his familiar
form. He looked more solid here, more real. "Unfortunately," his voice was a welcome
anchor in the disorienting void. "I feel your headache. And your confusion. What is this
place? The air is... thick."
"That's what I'm trying to figure out," I muttered, rubbing my temples. "Something's off. I
can feel it." I squinted, trying to pierce the absolute blackness. Nothing. It was like being
locked in a closet. "Can you see anything?"
"No more than you. But I can hear..." He went perfectly still, his head cocked. The usual
sarcasm drained from his expression, replaced by a sharp focus. "Waves."
"Waves?" I repeated, a cold knot beginning to form in my stomach. "Like... ocean waves?"
Yes. Crashing against stone. Not a gentle shore. It sounds violent. And there's... a smell.
Rotten salt and something metallic."
The pieces clicked into place with a horrifying, sickening finality. The fog in my brain
evaporated, burned away by a surge of pure, undiluted dread. The cold stone. The salty air.
The violent sea.
"No," I whispered. Then louder. "Ah fuck, you have got to be kidding me."
I shot to my feet, my heart hammering against my ribs. I shouted a string of curses into the
oppressive dark that would have made my old college roommate blush. This was bad, this
wasn't where I had wanted to bae Sure, I arguably knew the most about it, but this place was
still one of the worst in the Dream Realm.
"Forgotten Shore," I spat the name like it was poison, finally sinking back to the ground in
defeat. I angrily bit the knuckle of my thumb, the sharp pain a petty distraction from the
monumental disaster unfolding. "After all that... after six months of prep, of thinking I'd
beaten the odds, thinking I could outmanoeuvre the story... I end up right where the story
fucking starts."
"Does this place seem more familiar to you?" Sasrir asked, his voice low and serious now, all
mockery gone. "Can you tell where? This chamber feels enclosed."
"I can't see a damn thing," I growled, frustration boiling over. "It could be a cave in the
Crimson Labyrinth. It could be a basement in the Dark City. It could be a hole in the ground
for all I know!" I let out a harsh, bitter laugh. "Honestly, at this point, I don't care. Just as longas we're not right under the Soul Devourer Tree or in the nesting grounds of those Spire
Messengers. Anywhere but there."
The irony was so thick I could taste it. All my jokes about stealing Sunny's plot, about
knowing the script—the universe had apparently decided to call my bluff. Fuck, this was
honestly driving me mad right now. I didn't need this on my plate. At least I was two years
early-I didn't have to worry about stepping on a stone, rocking the timeline and making the
Trio get eaten by their first Scavenger Centurion.
"Effie should already be here, but I wonder about Kai...and Gunluag, Kido, Gemma, Seishan
and the rest of the guys at Bright Castle. I can't remember how long they were here before
Nephis led them out of the Dream Realm" Sasrir muttered, more to himself than to me.
"The witch was here for about ten years if I recall, but I don't know about the rest. Heh,
should have asked for the Wiki as my golden finger instead" I laughed, brushing away the
gloom and darkens in my heart. It would have been far harder, had the majority of it not been
absorbed by Sasrir.
"Glad to see you're feeling better" he smiled towards me.
"No use moping about. This is actually a great chance for me to use..." I concentrated and in
seconds, a cluster of silver light motes formed the shape of a crucifix in my hands, "...this!"
"The Unshadowed Crucifix?" Sasrir raised an eyebrow. "I thought you hate pain and blood?"
"I do," I confirmed with a small grin, tossing the Memory towards Sasrir. "That's why you're
going to be using it instead! Only activating the Demigod -level abilities requires my own
blood, you can use the rest."
"I don't have a Rose Bishop's regeneration you know" he sighed, but dutifully caught and
held up the cross. "Close your eyes, this will probably be bright."
I did as I was bid, and even then I hissed as a wave of golden light pierced through my
eyelids. I waited for several seconds for it to dim, and then opened them to see Sasrir
frowning at me. "We're stuck in a ridge, surrounded by red coral. It seems we got the Coral
Labyrinth, though I can't tell how close we are to the Dark Sea. Since it's night but we haven't
drowned yet, I think it's safe to say this place is relatively high up though, high enough the
Sea can't reach us."
"The question is, how do we get out?"
After a moment of silent contemplation, Sasrir spoke up. "If you don't mind being left alone,
I can transform into a shadow and go up. My vision will be limited to block and white, but its
better than pure darkness like it is here. And if anything happens, you can just recall me back,
though it will take time depending on the distance. I can leave the Crucifix or bring it with
me, if you wish."
"Haah, just go out for a couple minutes, bring the Memory. And don't lead any abomination
back to the hole.""Right."
With that, the Unshadowed Crucifix vanished into silver light once again, settling into Sasrir
this time. During our months together, we had discovered that, if I consented, Sasrir can
summon or dispel any Memory or Echo despite being classified as an Echo himself, and he
even has his own Soul Sea, though I couldn't enter it. According to him though, it was just a
sea of churning and filthy black mud. Watching Sasrir vanish, I felt the distance between us
gradually grow larger until I could only tell his rough direction.
All by myself, I nestled against a wall and tried to conserve energy. The mood swings and
frequent pondering had taken a lot more out of me than I expected, and sleep actually began
to encroach on my mind. I vaguely opposed it at first, but with Sasrir nearby and myself
hidden in a cubbyhole, I deemed it safe enough to nap for twenty or so minutes. Yet even as
my eyes began to close, I still couldn't shake that clinging discomfort, like an itch right in the
middle of my back I can't reach.
...I swear I was forgetting something.Chapter 14: Dream Realm II-Tracing the Path
An hour must have passed in a blink, because the next thing I knew, a cold hand was shaking
my shoulder. I jolted awake, the deep, instinctual fear of sleeping in a nightmare realm
snapping me to alertness instantly.
"It's me," Sasrir's voice was a low whisper in the dark, barely audible over the distant,
ominous crash of waves. He was crouched beside me, his form a deeper black in the absolute
gloom. "You were out. We need to plan."
I scrubbed a hand over my face, forcing the sleep away. "Right. What did you find?"
"We're perched high. Extremely high," he began, his voice all business. "The coral here is
like a jagged red mountain. I could see for miles... not that there's much to see but more
nightmare coral and that cursed black sea. But I did spot one of the Seven Statues in the
distance. A dark speck on a high plateau. Couldn't tell which one from here."
That was something, at least. A landmark. A potential goal.
"Good. That's good," I said, the planner in me latching onto the information. "What's the
situation? Can we move?"
"That's the problem," he said, and I could hear the frustration in his tone. "My Listener
powers are... jumbled. It's not just sounds anymore. It's like the entire Labyrinth is
whispering, a constant static of hunger and madness. It's hard to pick out immediate threats.
And moving now?" He shook his head. "The Dark Sea is still high. Even if we could navigate
the paths without falling to our deaths, the things that swim in those waters... I heard them.
Splashing. Screeching. It's not worth the risk."
My hope deflated. Trapped. Of course we were trapped.
"But," he continued, and I perked up. "There's a path. It's narrow, and it looks treacherous,
but it's there. It winds down from our perch to a lower ridge. When the sea draws back in the
morning, that path should be clear. It's our best shot."
A grim choice. Wait here, a sitting duck in our little cubbyhole until dawn, or risk a
nightmarish climb in the pitch black with unseen horrors lurking below.
"Alright," I sighed, the decision made by pure survival logic. "We wait for first light. No
sense in giving the local wildlife an easy meal."
Sasrir gave a grim nod of agreement. "I'll keep watch. Try to get more rest. You'll need your
strength for the climb."
He melted back into the shadows, leaving me alone with the oppressive darkness and the
distant sound of the hungry sea. Rest felt impossible now. Every distant screech, every
splash, sounded like it was right outside our hole. We had a plan, but it was a thin thread ofhope over a very deep, very dark abyss. The Forgotten Shore was already living up to its
name.
Despite Sasrir's advice, I didn't go back to sleep immediately, as I realised something
extremely important-I was naked. The Spell didn't let you bring anything on you when you
first entered the Dream Realm, and that included clothes. Sasrir had been wrapped in black
robes from the moment he appeared, but I was as bare as the day I was born. It was a good
thing this hole was dry, otherwise I might just catch hypothermia trying to sleep in it. I
wondered if I could ask Sasrir to weave my clothes from the shadows, but I couldn't
remember if the Shadow Ascetic had to power to grant materiality to shadows.
The short rest hadn't enabled me to have any epiphanies over what was troubling me either. I
knew something was wrong, whether with me or the environment, but I just couldn't place it.
I wasn't a Seer, I couldn't just use Divination to see what was wrong with me, and that was
frustrating. Checking my Runes revealed nothing new either though, so I had no choice but to
pack it up and settle myself once again, drifting off into another slumber.
*********************************************
The first ray of light was a physical thing, a sharp, crimson blade that sliced through the
darkness and directly into my eyes. I groaned, throwing an arm over my face. Sleeping
wedged in a coral crevice had left me stiff and aching in places I didn't know could ache. A
proper bed felt like a luxury from a past life.
Yawning, I tried to stretch out the kinks, my elbows knocking against the rough, unyielding
walls. Sasrir was already there, a patient silhouette against the brightening entrance of our
hole. "Ready to face the music?" he asked, his voice dry.
"More like face the nightmare coral," I grumbled, pushing myself up. "Let's just get this over
with."
He went first, flowing up and out of the hole with an unnatural grace that still weirded me
out. A moment later, his hand—cold and solid—reached down. I grabbed it, and he hauled
me up with surprising strength.
And then I saw it.
The Forgotten Shore. The Crimson Labyrinth.
For a long moment, I just stood there, my jaw slightly slack. Reading about it was one thing.
Seeing it was something else entirely.
It was a nightmare of architecture carved from a living hell. The labyrinth was vast, a multi-
tiered insanity of jagged, blood-red spires and twisting pathways that stretched out to a hazy,
horrifying horizon. Paths wound between massive coral pillars, some broad enough to march
an army through, others so narrow you'd have to turn sideways. They snaked and twisted
without any rhyme or reason, undoubtedly leading to dead ends or worse, just circling back
on themselves to trap you. And some didn't just wind around the mounds—they plunged
directly into them, becoming dark, gaping tunnels that promised nothing but deeper terror.There was nothing else. No trees, no grass, no soil. Just the endless, cursed crimson coral
and, far below at the bottom of the chasm we were perched above, the sluggish, oily black
water of the Dark Sea receding from the lower paths. Above, the sky was a bruised purple,
hiding swarms of dreadful flying abominations in its cloud cover.
The descriptions from the novel didn't do it justice. The scale was suffocating. The coral itself
wasn't right. It wasn't just rock; it had a weird, almost fleshy texture in places, a sinister gloss
under the red sun. Knowing the speculation—that this entire place was part of a colossal
living creature, a giant maw for the Crimson Terror to feed on soul essence—made my skin
crawl. Every scrape, every drop of blood spilled here, was just feeding the monster.
"Cheery place," I finally muttered, the words feeling utterly inadequate.
"Paradise, according to Effie," Sasrir deadpanned beside me, his eyes scanning the dizzying
drops and treacherous paths. "Shall we? That 'somewhat safe' path I mentioned is already
looking less appealing in the light of day."
He pointed to a narrow ledge that wound its way down the sheer coral face. It looked like it
had been carved by a madman. One wrong step and it was a very long, very final drop.
"Lead the way," I said, my voice tighter than I wanted it to be, something I tried to rectify
with a joke. "And try not to feed the Labyrinth."
The easy chatter died as we moved deeper into the canyon-like corridor. The oppressive
weight of the place demanded silence. Sasrir walked slightly ahead, his head tilted, his entire
being focused on the subtle currents of sound I couldn't hear. I could almost see him
manually filtering out the Labyrinth's background psychic scream, narrowing his focus down
to the immediate hundred feet or so around us.
"It's like a radar, but made of whispers," he finally murmured, his voice a low hum in the
stagnant air. "I can hear the scrape of chitin on coral. The drip of water. Nothing close. For
now."
A relief. It meant we wouldn't be blindsided by a Scavenger leaping from underneath us like
Sunny had been. Small victories.
"An Azure Blade," I whispered, more to myself than to him, my eyes scanning the eerie red
walls. "That's the first thing I want to claim here. A real Memory, not just this." I hefted the
Unshadowed Crucifix. It was powerful, but it felt... borrowed. An Azure Blade would be
mine.
A sudden, damp chill seeped through my naked heel and foot. I shivered, the cold and the
clammy moisture a constant, unpleasant reminder of where we were. It sparked a thought.
"Hey, Sassy," I said, keeping my voice low. "You're made of shadow, right? Can you, I don't
know... make things? Like clothes?"
He glanced back, a flicker of amusement in his dark eyes. "Shadow Shaping. A basic
application of the Hanged Man's authority. In theory, yes. I am... not particularly proficientyet. The results may be... minimalist."
"Minimalist is better than hypothermia. Give it a shot. Just a simple cloak or something."
He nodded, stopping for a moment. He held out a hand, and the shadows around his feet
seemed to stir, flowing up his arm like liquid darkness. They pooled in his palm, churning
and coalescing. It was a slow, deliberate process, like watching a spider carefully spin a web.
After a moment, he was holding a jet black cloth and he handed it to me.
It was a simple, hooded cloak and a set of form-fitting underclothes, the robe matching his
own. They were cool to the touch, not with the damp cold of the Labyrinth, but with a
neutral, soothing coolness. As I pulled them on over my gear, the shivering stopped instantly.
The shadow-cloth was surprisingly light and moved without rustling, perfect for stealth.
"Whoa," I said, running a hand over the impossibly smooth material. "This is... actually really
good. For a novice."
"Do not get used to it," he said, though I caught a hint of pride in his mental tone. "More
complex shapes are currently beyond me. And it is still just concentrated shadow. It will not
stop a blade."
"Doesn't need to. It just needs to stop me from freezing my ass off. Thanks." It was a small
thing, but in the soul-crushing gloom of the Labyrinth, a small comfort felt like a major
triumph. We were adapting! Take that, Nightmare Spell, Dream Realm!
The walk continued on uneventfully for some more minutes. Whether it was my luck or not,
we seemed to have landed in a section with few inhabitants, but I knew they would be a few.
The Starlight Legion wasn't just a fancy name: they were a literal legion, with probably
hundreds of members at one point. I couldn't remember if Nightmare Creatures had the
ability-or the physique-to reproduce, nor how many were Corrupted here, but I wasn't keen to
find out. Actually, what were the Legion doing here? The Seven Heroes committed suicide to
fuel to Artificial Sun, but why was their Legion scattered here, rather than in the Dark City?
Hmm, very strange now that I think abut it.
"Trouble ahead" Sasrir suddenly spoke out.
Sasrir went rigid beside me, his hand snapping up in a silent signal to stop. The casual air
vanished, replaced by a predator's stillness. "Thirty meters ahead. Around the next bend.
Something... feeding."
My grip tightened on the Unshadowed Crucifix. "Plan?"
"I go first. You hang back. Be ready with the light."
I nodded. It was the smart play. He was the scout, the ambusher. I was the artillery. As he
melted into the shadows on the wall, becoming a two-dimensional smear of darkness, I
focused on the Memory in my hands. I could feel its potential, a dormant sun waiting to be
unleashed. With my current strength, I couldn't access its true, demigod-level wrath—thatrequired a blood price I wasn't willing to pay yet. But I could channel a lesser echo of its
power, the powers of a Sequence 7 Solar High Priest, for just a meagre tribute of blood.
Creeping forward, I peered around the jagged coral edge.
The scene was grotesque. A Carapace Scavenger, its beetle-like shell glistening wetly in the
dim light, was hunched over another of its kind. The rending and wet chewing sounds were
nauseating. Cannibalism. Charming. It was completely focused on its meal, unaware of us.
A patch of darkness on the ground near it shifted. Sasrir, in his shadow form, flowed across
the ground like spilled ink, impossibly fast and silent. He reached the shadow cast by the
feasting abomination and didn't hesitate. He didn't emerge; he simply lunged into the
creature's own shadow.
The effect was instantaneous and horrifying.
The Scavenger's shadow on the coral wall suddenly writhed and bubbled like boiling tar. The
beast itself stiffened mid-bite, a choked gurgle escaping its maw. Then it shrieked, a sound of
pure, agonizing torment that echoed off the narrow walls. Thick, putrid black blood began to
seep from its eyes, its mandibles, its joints—every orifice it had. It flailed wildly, claws
scraping furrows in the hard coral, crashing into the walls in a blind frenzy. The struggle was
violent but short-lived. After a dozen horrific seconds, its movements became jerky, then
ceased entirely. It collapsed onto the remains of its meal, utterly still.
At the same moment, a familiar, coldly efficient notification appeared in the corner of my
vision.
[You have defeated an Awakened Beast: Carapace Scavenger.]
[You have received a Memory: Azure Blade.]
The shadow pooled beneath the dead creature for a moment before flowing back across the
ground and rising to form Sasrir next to me. He looked... pleased, if moderately drained.
"Efficient," he remarked, glancing at the corpse. "The Hanged Man's Pathway has its uses."
I gaped in shock for a moment before the sight settled in. "Jesus Christ, you just slaughtered
that thing in seconds?!"
"My Shadow form allows for soul attacks," Sasrir reminded me. "It takes more out of me
than you might think, but as long as it's not much stronger than an Awakened Demon then I
should be able to Curse it through its' own shadow. Still, attaching myself for too long can
cause Corruption: if I can't beat it in twenty seconds, I need to detach and escape. Thankfully,
most things here lack the ability to actually harm me in that state."
"Still, that's bloody amazing" I praised, and Sasrir allowed himself a faint smile .
I looked down at my hand and summoned the Memory I had just gotten, the staple weapon
for any Sleeper in the Forgotten Shore-the Azure Blade. Since Sasrir was counted as an Echoby the Spell, his kills were also mine. "Fetch the Soul Core and start cutting the better bits of
meat. I want to check this baby out."
Sasrir scoffed at my selfish command but did as bid, forming a dagger from shadow and
beginning to cut huis way through the dead monster's body for the glimmer of light. Paying
him no mind, I admired the beautiful blade and the milky starlight contained within, reading
the description gleefully. My first true Memory, earned by myself!...Well, by Sasrir
technically, but he was just another me, right?
[Memory Name: Azure Blade.]
[Memory Rank: Awakened.]
[Tier: I]
[Memory Type: Weapon.]
[Memory Description: [On this forgotten shore, only steel remembers.]
{Enchantments: Wishing Star, Milky Blade]
[Wishing Star Description: Lights up when pointed in the direction or in the vicinity of your
targeted wish.]
[Milky Blade Description: Blade grows stronger when light is shun upon it, including
starlight and moonlight.]
"Did we get the abilities in the novel?" I called out to Sasrir, reading the Runes in
contemplation.
"Not that I recall, though maybe Guilty three just...forgot to put them in. I don't think there
was ever a Memory or Echo that lacked Enchantments entirely, right?"
"Well, maybe Sunny just received a dud," I shrugged. "Anyways, this sword isn't too bad at
all. It can serve as a glowstick so long as my desires are strong enough, and the light from the
Crucifix can improve it. Should make things easier for fighting and exploring. Now let's see
if we can get another for you to use. While you shadow weapons deal soul damage, you're
still just a Dormant, so this will still be useful."
"Alright-ah, found it!" Sasrir pulled his arm back, wrenching out a fistful of gore and blood,
with a small and glimmering crystal held in his fist. A Soul Core.We weren't like Sunny, for whom Soul Cores were useless. We filled up our Soul Core the
same as standard Awakened, and so we needed to scavenge from the dead after each fight.
"Alright, let's get moving," I said, sheathing the Azure Blade at my hip. Its cool weight was a
comforting promise of power. "We're burning daylight, and this place is only going to get
more active."
Sasrir nodded, wiping his shadow-made dagger clean on the Scavenger's carapace before it
dissolved back into darkness. He tossed the glistening Soul Core to me. I caught it, feeling a
faint pulse of warmth as my Demon-Tier Soul Core absorbed its energy. The progress was
infinitesimal, a single drop in a vast ocean, but it was progress nonetheless.
"We need a plan beyond 'wander and hope we don't get eaten,'" I muttered, my survivor
instincts kicking in. I looked around the twisting coral corridors. "The Wishing Star
enchantment. Let's test it."
I focused, pouring my intent into the Azure Blade. My wish wasn't complex: Safety. A
defensible location. I held the blade out flat on my palm. I didn't bother asking it to lead me
straight to the Dark City, such a thing would be beyond a mere Awakened Memory of the
First Tier, but settled for something smaller.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then, the milky starlight within the blade seemed to swirl,
coalescing towards one edge of the blade. It glowed slightly brighter, and the blade itself
tilted ever so slightly, pointing down a specific fork in the path to our left.
"It works," I said, a grin spreading across my face. This changed everything. We weren't just
blindly lost. We had a compass.
"A compass that points toward vague concepts," Sasrir pointed out, ever the pragmatist.
"'Safety' could mean a dead-end cave with one entrance. It could also mean the lair of a much
larger predator that has eaten all the competition."
"Hey, optimism, remember?" I chided, though I knew he was right. The enchantment was a
tool, not a guarantee. "We'll be careful. You scout ahead in shadow form, I'll follow with the
compass. We move fast, we stay quiet, and we avoid anything bigger than us."
It was a simple plan, but in the Crimson Labyrinth, simple was best. With a shared glance, we
fell into our roles. Sasrir melted into the shadows on the wall, becoming a silent sentinel
moving ahead. I followed, my grip tight on the Azure Blade, its soft glow pointing the way.
We were no longer just survivors; we were hunters, however inexperienced. And we had a
direction now. I could use the Enchantment in bursts to slowly make my way out of the
Labyrinth, towards the Bright Castle...where I would have to put up with a savage tyrant
wielding a Transcendant Echo and a hundred madmen for loyalists. Yes, I sighed, Gunlaug
was going to be a problem. Not that I had any intention to challenge the man, and in fact,
planned to work my way up as one of his lieutenants. Still, casual brutality was something I
deemed irredeemable, and how much exactly I could ignore, even I didn't know.
"Worry not about Bright Castle, Adam, just focus on the present" Sasrir spoke from
within my mind. "And keep your heart focused: the Enchantment is flickering."I corrected it as he instructed, paying attention only to my immediate surroundings and the
present. After what felt like thirty turns but could have been only ten, we came to a mound
that spiralled upwards. I didn't recognise it as anything, but it seemed to be a place where we
could rest. It was high enough to allow us to spot any approaching monsters, but not nearly
high enough to escape the Dark Sea, so we couldn't stay here during the night. "Seems your
sword can only point to immediate solutions" Sasrir remarked, manifesting beside me. I
nodded thoughtfully, glad to have figured it out so soon. "Well then, let's rest for a bit for
your to get back your energy, then start hunting any stragglers or loners."
The small hill we'd claimed as a temporary lookout was a jagged tooth of crimson coral,
offering a sweeping, sobering view of the Labyrinth's scale. From up here, the moving
shadows below were clearly Scavengers—some in skittish packs, others solitary hunters. We
watched their patterns for a long moment, two predators sizing up the competition.
"That one," I pointed with the Azure Blade toward a lone figure shuffling slower than the
rest, its movements slightly off-kilter. "Looks like it's lagging. Easier pickings."
"Isolation is its own weakness," Sasrir agreed, his voice a low hum in the settling quiet. "The
blade will guide us."
I focused my intent on that specific Scavenger, and the milky light within the Azure Blade
swirled and brightened along one edge, pulling insistently toward a specific canyon mouth.
"Got a lock. Let's move."
The hunt was methodical, almost clinical. The Wishing Star enchantment led us on a direct
path, bypassing dead ends we would have wasted precious minutes on. We cornered the lone
Scavenger in a narrow fissure. It barely had time to turn before Sasrir flowed into its shadow.
The familiar, gruesome process unfolded: the choked shriek, the seep of black blood, the
sudden collapse.
[You have defeated a Dormant Beast: Carapace Scavenger.]
No Memory this time, just another faintly pulsing Soul Core. Sasrir retrieved it while I kept
watch. "Three down. We're getting the hang of this."
"Efficiency is key," he remarked, tossing the core to me. "Their numbers are their greatest
weapon. Removing them while on their own is the optimal strategy."
We repeated the process twice more, falling into a seamless rhythm. It was on the return
climb up our lookout hill that I saw it. The sun was beginning its slow descent, casting long,
distorted shadows across the labyrinth. But one shadow didn't move. It was too regular, too
geometric.
"Sasrir. Look." I pointed toward a high plateau in the middle distance. A stark, dark silhouette
stood against the fading light. A statue.
"Sanctuary," I breathed out, the word itself a wish. I held up the Azure Blade, telling it my
new desire, and it dutifully pointed the way. My Essence was quite drained by this point, so I
turned it on and off intermittently to avoid too much expenditure."We can make it before full dark if we move with purpose."
The journey was a focused trek, not a panicked run. We used the Azure Blade's guidance to
choose the fastest route, scrambling over obstacles with the practiced ease our months of
training had granted us. We reached the base of the plateau as the sun dipped low, painting
the sky in shades of deep orange and violet. The statue loomed above, its back to us, a
monolithic guardian of dark, featureless stone. I still couldn't see which Hero it belonged to.
"Sunset's in less than an hour. Up we go."
The climb was steep but manageable. The stone was rough and offered plenty of handholds.
About halfway up, my boot slipped on a loose fragment, sending a shower of tiny pebbles
skittering down the face. I grunted, re-establishing my grip.
"This is taking too long," Sasrir stated flatly. Before I could reply, his form dissolved into a
patch of living darkness that flowed onto the statue's surface. I felt a strange solidity
wherever I placed my hands and feet next; the stone itself seemed to grip me, offering perfect
purchase. It was like climbing a ladder instead of a cliff face.
"Show-off," I muttered, but I didn't complain. With his help, I scaled the remaining distance
quickly and hauled myself over the edge onto the flat top of the plateau just as the last sliver
of sun vanished. True darkness fell, deep and absolute, but we were safe atop our stone
sentinel. I looked down across the Coral Labyrinth is in all its' horrific glory, and watched the
last rays of the sun drip away, hiding behind the horizon. Then came the black waves, the
churning darkness born from the death of an unholy angel. "Wonder if such a thing will be
born if Nephis ever dies" I spoke idly, watching the process of the land being swallowed once
again.
"I believe it would be closer to a Godgrave situation, where blazing heat will randomly
descend from the heavens" remarked Sasrir.
"Huh. Wonder if that Nephilim served the Goddess of Stormy Seas then."
"I believe the Dark Sea is more "Dark" than "Sea" denied Sasrir. "The water is merely how it
presents itself: the true nature of this thing should align with the True Darkness spilt from the
Unholy Titan during the Age of Heroes. Maybe the Shadow God or Nether have a connection
with it, with both of them controlling the Underworld."
Before long, the water had reached only twenty meters below us, swishing against the rock
with choppy waves. Sasrir enveloped us both in a covering of shadows, and we lay down to
sleep. "First real night in the Dream Realm," I muttered.
"With monster meat for breakfast in the morning" Sasrir added.
Despite everything, I felt like maybe things wouldn't be so bad. …Hell, the feeling that had
been bugging me hours earlier was finally gone as well.