Every second, humans were dying, torn apart by the claws and fangs of the harrowing horde. Their roars, cries, commands, and screams were swallowed by the relentless thunder of combat.
Kai could hear it all from where he stood.
Though he, alongside Cassie, Kido, and the others who remained, had their own problem to deal with.
A Fallen-Beast.
With coordinated effort, it did not take long to bring down the Awakened Devil that accompanied it. Kai took the lead and delivered the finishing blow.
He was bloodied and bruised, barely standing. His face was slick with drying blood, and his vision blurred at the edges. But his aim held steady. He did not falter.
He couldn't help but wonder:
'How much longer is this going to go on?'
He had been fighting for what felt like days. His arms were heavy. His wounds were piling up. Those around him weren't faring much better.
The only ones with little to no injuries were Cassie—and Seishan, who was still unconscious.
Truly, it would be wonderful if she could wake the hell up!
Kai looked ahead. A handful of Sleepers were still attacking the Fallen Beast. More were dying by the second.
He exhaled and stepped forward.
Or rather, he moved into position and raised his bow.
He drew and released.
The arrow pierced the last of creature's five eyes.
With its final eye destroyed, the beast thrashed wildly. It was completely blind now. Its ears had long since been ruptured, and one of its legs was nearly severed. Through sheer coordination, they had brought it to its knees.
"Now!" Kai shouted.
No one hesitated.
Despite their inexperience—especially compared to those fighting in the main hall—they surged forward as one. Spears, swords, and whatever weapons they could wield plunged into the creature's ruined body.
The Fallen Beast collapsed.
The battle was over.
For now.
Kai did not relax.
He descended from the air and landed heavily against the wall, breathing unevenly.
Moments later, a faint warmth spread through his body. He turned his head to see Cassie guiding a young man with a black beard toward him. The man's Aspect was clearly related to healing.
Kai let out a quiet, breathless chuckle.
"Cassie… are you alright?"
She nodded. "I'm fine. Y-You don't sound fine, though."
He huffed a weak laugh. "Trust me. I'm not."
He tried to stand and nearly stumbled, but Cassie caught his arm, steadying him. Together, they made their way back toward what remained of the barricade.
Kai glanced around.
It was terrible.
Bodies lay scattered across the floor. The barricade was barely standing. It would not hold much longer.
They would need to relocate.
Or better yet—get the hell out of here.
The only reason they hadn't already fled was the overwhelming number of Nightmare Creatures outside.
After a few careful steps, Cassie reached the wall and gently lowered him down before sitting beside him.
Under different circumstances, it might have been awkward. Kai did not know Cassie well.
But in battle, sometimes silence was simply better.
Kai thought back over his time on the Forgotten Shore.
He had never fought this fiercely.
He had just led the defense against a Fallen Beast and multiple Awakened Nightmare Creatures.
He had done his best.
He had survived.
His eyes began to close, but he bit his tongue before they could.
He could not afford to pass out. There was no guarantee he would wake again.
Still—
He was so tired…
"Hey! Kai! Are you good to move?"
He turned his head to see Aiko crouched in front of him, searching his face.
Kai managed a weak nod, conserving what little strength he had left.
Once more, he was helped to his feet.
Together, the group began to move.
Kai did not know whether an order to retreat had been given or if they were simply repositioning.
But anything was better than standing still.
—
Things had turned from dire to desperate in the main hall. Gunlang wasn't sure how they'd managed.
The Fallen abominations were dead. The Awakened-Beasts and Monsters—even two Devils—were dead.
He was on his knees, opening his golden helmet slightly to spit out a clot of blood. He turned to see Nephis breathing heavily, her breath uneven. He could even see darkness building beneath her eyes.
Her arms were constantly twitching, but she forced them firm.
Effie was lying on the ground. The battle had been truly intense—even she was exhausted. It wasn't the mere number of Nightmare Creatures, but their rank and class that had drained her energy.
Caster seemed the least worse for wear. Though due to using his Aspect frequently, even he wasn't doing well.
Tessai's frozen body was full of cuts. Gemma had healed most of his wounds—but his energy was another matter.
Overall, the main hall was silent aside from the sounds of breathing and groans.
But… no one spoke.
Because everything felt off.
There was simply no way the Nightmare Creature onslaught would end so soon. If they had managed to reach past the castle gates—what was the cause?
Everyone simultaneously looked toward the broken main gate—
—and went pale.
The mist was… gone.
But what was this sense of terror?
Everyone was on their feet at once, facing the gate side by side.
Both Gunlang and Nephis grasped their weapons and entered their unique stances. At once, everyone began circling and looking around.
Gunlang turned his eyes to the broken gate for a moment.
'Where is Harus?'
Harus had not reported back. Much more, it was utterly silent. Where were his Hunters and Castle Guard?
The air grew heavier.
It pressed down upon them without warning, as though the very weight of the world had shifted. Nephis felt her breath catch. Beside her, Effie's grin had vanished entirely.
Something was wrong.
Very, very wrong.
Suddenly, a red mist surged outward from the gate like a tidal wave. It engulfed the entirety of the main hall whole. Nobody could see anything any longer.
Nephis turned as she felt Effie and Caster grasp her shoulders and pull her back. At least they were together—but Nephis could no longer see Gunlang or his lieutenants.
She kept trying again and again to even her breathing. To calm her body. Yet it was not following her commands.
This wasn't like her. Why was she panicking? Her eyes darted around, looking for the source.
She turned her gaze a moment. Even Effie and Caster seemed off. They—
Each and every one of them was terrified. Then, finally…
They heard a scrape across the ground. And along with it, they could hear the sound of a woman's weeping.
She wept and wept in agony. She was in pain. She was in mourning.
The sound was terrible. It clawed at their minds, sweet and sorrowful and utterly wrong.
As the woman wept, they heard Gunlang yell out. "Keep hold on your mind!"
'What did he—'
The next moment, Nephis got her answer. Her mind began to drift and haze.
So much so that she activated her aspect and felt the agony focus her mind.
Turning her gaze, she saw Effie bite her lip until it bled. Her nails were stabbing into her palm, and she swayed a little as if falling unconscious. Caster was doing better than her, but not by much.
What was going on? What was this? A mind hex?
Suddenly, Nephis felt something bump into her. She nearly slashed at the source before seeing it was Gunlang and his lieutenants. The group was back together.
He whispered. "We need to move. I don't know what this is, but it's far beyond us. It must have already killed all the Castle Guard."
Caster and Effie paled. If the Castle Guard were dead, it had to be a Fallen-Devil at the very least—
The sound of something dragging echoed through the crimson veil.
A sudden gust of wind blew behind them as the crimson mist surged. Caster swiftly dodged it and pulled Gemma as well.
Something enormous was stepping in circles around them. The entire group followed the sound with their eyes.
Then they heard the wet crunching sound of something's mouth beginning to move.
And then—
A laugh.
It started low, fractured—broken into pieces like shattered glass scraping together.
"Ah… ha… hah… ha… haha… ah…"
The laughter didn't resemble anything vocal cords were meant to create. Each syllable trembled, detached from the ones before and after, as though the creature had forgotten how to laugh and was now forcing itself to relearn.
It echoed through the mist, layered and truly terrible. Nephis wanted nothing more than for it to shut up.
But what happened next drained the color from every face:
"Sin… ners…"
The word was drawn out. Even coming from the Nightmare Creature, they could hear the hatred coiled inside it.
"Sinners… sinnerssinners… all of you… sinners…"
Nephis's eyes went wide.
'Can it speak?!'
'Why?'
How?
How could it—
Suddenly, the thought died. Nephis went pale. She felt her heart drop as something moved through the mist.
An arm lifting slowly—or so fast she couldn't tell the difference.
And a blink later, the mist cleared entirely.
It was gone.
Five seconds.
Nephis and Gunlang turned so fast pain flared in their necks. Instinct seized control of their bodies. She ignited her Soul Flame and pushed it through her body, reinforcing her muscles and bones. Gunlang's golden armor shifted, forming a shield over his chest with a metallic shriek.
Four seconds.
They made out the blur. It was terrifying.
The creature, though coiling in crimson haze, was tall and painfully thin. Its pale body stretched over a tight frame that looked ruined. Its skin resembled splintered wood fused with stone, ridged and cracked. A crown-like growth framed its head, asymmetrical. Beneath it, golden eyes burned—and its red pupils were fixed on them.
Not at them—into their souls.
Its wings had become arms, six-fingered and powerful, each digit long and disturbingly dexterous.
Its arm straightened.
Three seconds.
Though they were already in position, Nephis's resolve cracked. She knew, with sudden and horrifying clarity, that the attack would rip through her slender body in a single blow.
Her confidence in defending the sudden attack was all but gone.
Two seconds.
Purple liquid flooded its limb, thick and viscous, clinging like rot. Nephis understood instantly what would happen if that strike landed.
She kicked Effie and Caster, sending the latter flying into the giantess. Tessai seized Gemma and twisted aside.
One second.
The creature's arm moved.
One moment, Nephis and Gunlang stood braced. The next, they were airborne.
Their bodies tore through the broken castle gates, reducing what remained of them to splinters and dust. They flew and collided with debris as they fell through the air—all the way outside the castle.
Hitting the ground roughly, Nephis tried to scream—but she couldn't. Her body would not respond. She could not brace, nor could she breathe.
Gunlang's Golden Echo ruptured on impact. Pieces of it were shattered—though not completely destroyed. The golden liquid that formed a shield and covered his chest cracked deeply. One of his ribs punctured his lung, and his chest caved inward from the terrible force. His sight was blurry. Blood filled his mouth anew.
The ringing in their ears swallowed the world. They tumbled down the castle steps, breaking bones and splitting flesh. Nephis felt something wet strike the ground beside her.
Her eye.
Part of her jaw lay a few feet away, half hidden in debris.
They were unrecognizable. Utterly ruined.
Pain overwhelmed her nerves so completely that it almost felt familiar. Like her flaw.
And then—
Poison. She felt herself rotting from the point of impact. She felt it inside her blood. She was being consumed.
Her mind buckled. The agony was overwhelming and her body was so broken that it was hard to unleash her aspect—but she managed. White flame engulfed her as she began to burn the poison from her body. She sealed her torn flesh—agony layered over agony.
Meanwhile, Gunlang rolled from his back onto his stomach and vomited a river of blood.
"It… It's—"
She barely heard him.
"It's the Disaster…"
Her thoughts froze.
'W-What?'
Even through terrible pain, she heard what Gunlang had said. Her mind began to race.
'NoNoNoNoNoNoNoNoNo'
If it was truly the Disaster—
They were already dead.
A Fallen-Devil would have been catastrophic enough—but a Corrupted-Devil?!
Even crippled, it would stalk them like prey in open water. It was a shark, and they were mere fish.
And it had done this much damage with one casual swing.
Nephis didn't know what was happening inside the main hall. She didn't know if Effie or Caster still breathed.
She did know one thing.
This was unwinnable.
One of the four calamities of the Forgotten Shore had come in person. If they stayed, they would be erased.
Sleepers challenging that thing was like insects charging a god.
She healed herself fully, though her legs trembled beneath her. She turned to Gunlang and hesitated only a moment before engulfing him in white fire as well. His Echo was cracked but intact. A Transcendent Echo. Anything lesser would have been dust.
They forced themselves upright.
Then they looked up the steps.
Bodies.
Dozens of them.
Twisted. Torn open. Limbs bent at disturbing angles. The stone was painted red, and the red was still spreading.
The mist.
It had never been just mist.
It had been blood.
The Disaster had always been here.
Watching.
Guiding the Nightmare Creatures.
Breaching the gates.
Nephis felt fear settle into her bones. Absolute, relentless terror.
This was the first time since arriving on these cursed shores that she truly understood loss.
She could lose her cohort.
She could lose the Sleepers needed to conquer the Crimson Spire.
If they died here, escape would become nothing more than a fantasy.
But overall—
Cassie.
Where was Cassie?
She didn't want to think about what would happen if this thing laid eyes on her.
She had to find her. Gather whoever still lived, and run.
Forget pride. Forget battle. Survival was the only command left.
All these poor Sleepers were nothing but food to the damned Disaster.
And it had only just begun to feed.
High above the drowning streets of the Dark City, Sunny lay stretched along the back of the Silvershade Harrow as it cut through the night air. The wind brushed across his face in steady currents, cool and pleasant to the touch. It tugged at his hair and dried the last traces of water on his skin. A grin lingered on his lips—wide, unrestrained, almost foolish.
But not entirely genuine.
He would have been lying to himself if he claimed there was no tension in his chest. The horizon ahead held a distant, wandering radiance that did not belong in the Dark City, and anything that did not belong here was either a miracle or a catastrophe. Most often, it was both.
Still, he did not look away.
The ruins of the cathedral dwindled behind him, swallowed by the distance. The suffocating maze of crumbling structures and streets flooded with horrors was no longer a cage around him. For the first time since making the foolish decision to separate from Nephis and take refuge there, he was no longer confined to its suffocating grasp.
It was a liberating feeling—like taking a full breath after nearly drowning.
He let his fingers sink into the Silvershade's feathers. They shifted beneath his touch, softening into something like warm fur. The creature's colorful plumage adjusted around him, securing his position while blending their forms into the darkness of the sky. It would hide him as it hid itself, bending light along its scales and feathers so that even watchful eyes below would see nothing but empty air.
A flying echo…
Sunny almost laughed again, though he kept it in.
He had crawled through ruin for this. He had nearly died more times than he could count inside those accursed streets. The memory of cold stone against his back and a blade slipping through his guard returned with unwelcome clarity. The damned knight had moved without a sound, carving open his stomach as though he were little more than prey.
One day, he would return.
He would return stronger.
In a single month, he had gained two echoes and over four hundred Shadow Fragments. He had survived ambushes, hunted creatures far above what he once would have dared to challenge, and endured battles that were entirely unreasonable. The body that had first stepped into the Dark City would not have lasted a day in the place he had just escaped.
There was even a faint, dangerous thought in the back of his mind—that he might now rival Nephis in strength.
It had been a long time since he had seen her, though. Long enough that the comparison felt hollow. Strength on the Forgotten Shore was a shifting thing, forged daily in blood. If she had survived as he had, then she too would have changed.
Either way, it no longer mattered in this moment.
His attention returned to the light on the horizon.
And to the fact that he was riding a massive airborne abomination through the night sky with nothing but instinct and a fragile trust in its obedience to keep him from plummeting to his death.
Fortunately, the Silvershade seemed intent on keeping its master alive. Its feathers curved subtly around him, tightening whenever he shifted too much, adjusting whenever the wind changed. It did not merely carry him; it accommodated him.
Within his Soul Sea, Saint rested amid slow-burning darkness. She had endured far more than he liked to admit. She had fought the Silvershade beside him, then defended his unconscious body against wave after wave of attacks while he lay helpless. Through the count of Shadow Fragments, he knew how many she had slain.
Shadow Fragments: [657/1000]
Truly, she deserved the reprieve.
Sunny let out a slow breath and lowered himself further along the creature's back, resting on his stomach and wrapping his arms loosely around its fur. He gave a simple command—continue forward in a single direction toward the light, and alert him to any threat that approached from the sky. The likelihood of encountering another flying abomination this high above the ruins was slim, but not impossible.
Fatigue crept over him regardless.
His body had healed, but healing was not the same as rest. The tension of constant vigilance, the strain of combat, and the dull ache of accumulated wounds lingered beneath the surface of his willpower. He had not truly slept in what felt like ages.
The steady rhythm of the Silvershade's wings became almost hypnotic.
Wind…
Breath…
The faint glow of the horizon ahead…
His grip loosened.
The last thought that passed through his mind was the acknowledgment that falling asleep hundreds of meters above a ruined city filled with horrors was perhaps not the wisest decision he had ever made.
Then darkness claimed him once more, and he began to dream.
—
"Tell me, Sunless. Do you know what it is that you fear?"
There is a moment before dread settles.
A moment in which the dream is only a dream.
White.
Endless.
Silent.
The corpse of lesser gods lie scattered across the plain, their bodies half-sunk into ice. Rivers of molten gold stream through the cracks, falling soundlessly into the depths of a dark, imprisoned ocean.
Above, the sky hangs in pieces.
Something unfathomable beyond it.
Something vast.
Then he realizes it.
The cold bites at him. The smell of divine blood thickens.
And he remembers where he is.
"…Ariel."
A giant kneels in the middle of the battlefield with a skull split open, golden ichor slipping between its enormous fingers. His radiant eyes dart once, twice, feverish.
Then they settle.
The corpse whispers in a voice no longer its own.
"Ah, you speak my name as though it were a greeting. How bold of you."
The observer turns his gaze, watching as Sunny stands upon the broken ice, hands at his sides. He wears the observer's own face. He feels… distant.
Sunny turns his head toward the fallen giant.
"You asked what I fear? But really, should I answer?"
The corpse's lips curl.
"You stand before the Demon of Dread and question whether you should answer? Have you grown arrogant, Heir of Weaver? Or have you simply forgotten what fear is?"
Sunny's gaze drifts upward, toward the broken sky.
"I have not forgotten. I simply no longer see the point in fearing what has already occurred."
The observer watched as a low hum escapes the giant's ruined throat.
"Interesting… interesting existence. When you first entered my tomb, you were a trembling thing. Now you stand upon the grave of gods. My, oh my."
"…"
"How did you invade this dream, Sunless? And why have you come?"
"I did not invade it, Dread. This memory belongs to both of us. You are dead. I am dead. What remains is merely the Nightmare."
"…?"
"Ah… I came to witness it again. After all, there is little else for me to do in the current state of my being."
The observer flinched as Ariel suddenly laughs. It sounded quite distorted.
"You claim you came for nothing. Yet to stand before me is to seek truth. I am the keeper of truth. You know better."
"…"
"What truth do you desire? and why do I perceive more than one truth within you?"
Sunny finally looks directly at him.
"What truth do I desire? The truth is that I am fading. This dream is a remnant. A frayed thread clinging to a severed web. What value is truth to something already undone?"
Sunny smiled at the giant corpse.
"But you speak of more than one truth within me. You see the Light."
He turned his gaze back toward the sky.
"It was born of a wish. A wish spoken into Name—and thus spoken into being."
Ariel whispers in a soft tone.
"And the Darkness? That Abyss within you. It is not your own."
"No, it belongs to Abaddon. It's... it's something that was given to me. That is all."
The corpse seemed to still.
"Abaddon's Darkness… the voice that echoed from depths even I could not fathom."
The giant's massive hand shifted slightly against the ice.
"You are both Divine and Unholy. Light and Shadow with a contradicting Darkness. You confound me, Sunless."
Sunny tilts his head.
"That is not an answer to your first question."
"And what was that?"
"You asked what I fear."
"Go on."
"I do not fear death. I have experienced it."
Sunny gestures faintly to the battlefield.
"I do not fear ruin. I witnessed it."
He turned his gaze back to Ariel.
"I fear repetition. I fear that nothing will change."
Ariel seemed to ponder a moment, before saying:
"You have spoken to hope. Your desire has been restored?"
It was not a question.
"Yes."
"You intend to return to the beginning. To tangle yourself with the web. To become both thread and weaver?"
"I am already a Nightmare. In the material world, I am gone. In this world of dreams, I fade. So why can't I?"
"…"
"I am Sunless's Nightmare."
The observer watched as for the first time, Ariel seemed to hesitate.
"A Nightmare…"
The Observer watched as confusion touched his face.
"Before I'm gone, I will ensure he does not walk our path. The conclusion you reached was terrible, Ariel. But mine was not any better."
He steps closer to the kneeling giant.
"I will tamper with fate again. This is my final act. My last one."
Ariel seems to study him in silence.
"You broke… fate? I never got to see if Weaver achieved that."
A strange delight enters his voice.
"A true heir indeed!"
Sunny smiles faintly.
"You are a God, Ariel. Thus, you cannot understand how we think. After all, it is the human mind that sees what gods overlook."
The rivers of gold continue to fall.
Ariel observes him.
"You do not have long."
"No."
"Then tell me. What do you want from me?"
"Anything."
"…Anything? That is quite vague, Sunless."
"Ha! Perhaps I phrased that poorly. What I seek is simpler than you think. Anything that might aid my preparations. No matter how small."
Sunny glanced at the Observer, not the corpse.
"After all, the magnitude of consciousness determines the status of a being. Even the smallest existence may observe the universe in Its entirety. The beginning is but a single point… and thus, the smallest can be the greatest. So, will not anything, no matter how insignificant, be sufficient? Keeper of Truth? Whose to say your gift won't change the outcome of one world—if many?"
Ariel inhales sharply.
"That… is not a truth I have seen in a very long time."
The giant's enormous hands lift slightly, as though in applause.
"You have done it! You have surprised me, Sunless!"
Sunny's expression did not change.
"So, is there anything you would pass on? A word. A fragment of understanding."
His eyes shifted again.
Everything given to him would awaken in a new world.
A world changed.
Not by this fading Nightmare—But by the one who still lived.
"A world changed by his actions. Not ours. It will rest in his hands—and he will do as he see's fit."
This time, Ariel followed his gaze.
The kneeling giant seemed to turn—not toward the fading Nightmare beside him—
But toward the true presence suspended beyond the veil.
Something vast stirred behind the fractured sky.
Before the Observer woke up, he felt it.
He felt something immeasurable…
Looking down.
[The 'Demon of Dread' acknowledges you.]
"Well… of course there is something I would be more than happy to pass on…"
—
Unlike every other time, Sunny did not wake up drenched in sweat.
And unlike every other time, he remembered fragments of the dream.
Though… only its appearance.
He couldn't remember who had been there. Nor the voices that had spoken. He couldn't remember who acknowledged him, or what was said.
But he knew it was important.
That much, he knew.
Sunny slowly stretched and looked around.
Where was he? And how long had he—
Suddenly, the Silvershade twisted midair and dove sharply downward, barely avoiding a projectile.
"—Wha?!"
'What the hell?!'
It was still night. He was still exhausted. Hours had passed, yes—but nowhere near enough for proper rest.
Sunny's eyes darted around.
What was attacking him?
As the Silvershade banked violently, he finally took in his surroundings. He was near a coast. One of the shores near the Dark City was visible in the distance.
But more importantly…
There was a massive pile of… something.
From this height, that was all he could tell.
Just a heap.
Looking closer, he realized the "heap" had arms.
He thought…
Sunny glanced at the Silvershade. The owl showed no signs of injury. It didn't even seem winded.
So what exactly was going on?
Below, the massive abomination bent slightly, gathering something into one of its enormous limbs—
—and hurled it.
Again.
This time, Sunny was ready.
He tightened his grip and commanded the Silvershade to dive while veering sideways. The projectile tore through the air where they had been a moment before.
He needed a better look.
Though… even from up here, it was already enormous.
As the creature pulled its arm back and launched another massive object, the Silvershade Harrow evaded it effortlessly. The Echo might not have been built for strength, but it was fast.
Very fast.
So fast that Sunny's eyes began to sting from the rushing wind.
He made a mental note never to do this again without some kind of helmet, or eye cover.
The Silvershade dove lower, skimming just above the ground in a smooth glide.
And finally, Sunny saw it clearly.
It wasn't just a pile.
It was a mountain of skeletons.
Countless bones stacked and fused together, forming a grotesque mass that vaguely resembled a colossal humanoid. He couldn't tell where its legs began or where its torso ended.
It was, quite literally, a towering pile of bones.
But that wasn't what made his eyes widen.
The light did.
A faint, unmistakable Light of Divinity pulsed from somewhere along its side—buried within the heap, yet not fully part of it.
His heart skipped.
'I… I made it?'
He had reached his destination.
The Silvershade, with its terrifying speed, had crossed the Dark City and vast stretches of the Forgotten Shore in mere hours.
Sunny exhaled shakily, forcing himself to calm down.
Below, the two chunks of bone the creature had thrown earlier were rolling back toward the main body, rejoining the massive pile.
'You've got to be kidding me…'
It was throwing pieces of itself.
And reabsorbing them.
'What did I do to deserve this kind of welcome?!'
Either way, it was now or never.
Sunny quickly organized his thoughts.
First—without a doubt, this abomination was the source of the immortal skeletons in the Dark City.
Second—it was a Tyrant.
A Fallen Tyrant.
And third—that Light… it wasn't fully integrated into the creature. Somehow, instinctively, he could tell it was separate.
Detached.
"First an Awakened Devil," Sunny muttered under his breath. "Now a Fallen Tyrant…"
And just his luck—this Fallen Tyrant possessed one of the very sources of Light his mind had been drawn toward since the beginning.
Just what did fate want from him?
This couldn't be coincidence.
Not with the damned [Fated] attribute hanging over his head.
'Why are the dead gods so eager to recruit me? I'm way too young to die…'
He allowed himself that brief flash of outrage—then crushed it.
No more time.
Sunny commanded the Silvershade to remain agile, ready to twist or ascend at a moment's notice. Charging in blindly and ripping the Light free would be suicide.
His opponent was a Fallen Tyrant.
Even with Saint—and this new Echo—he wouldn't survive a direct confrontation.
So he would not fight directly.
With Saint still recovering in his Soul Sea, it was just him and the bird.
Lost from Light and the Silvershade Harrow.
Against the Lord of the Dead.
A Fallen Tyrant.
Sunny narrowed his eyes.
Truly… not the worst odds.
After all—
It couldn't fly.
Seishan couldn't tell what was going on.
Everything felt thick. Was she swimming through tar or something? Her head throbbed—and thoughts came slow and jagged.
Why had she—
Oh.
The blood.
She had nearly lost herself to it. The scent had wrapped around her mind and squeezed until there was nothing left. She had knocked herself out just to stop it.
When her eyes snapped open, her body reacted before her thoughts did.
She spasmed violently and rolled out of whoever had been holding her. She inhaled—but it felt like the air was tearing into her lungs.
The smell hit her again—stronger now. Far stronger than it had been initially.
Voices cried out around her.
"Lady Seishan!"
"Wha—Seishan!"
"Milady, please!"
She growled low in her throat and clutched her head.
T-That blood…
It was everywhere.
Kai, half-supported by Aiko and Cassie, whipped his head toward her scream.
"Seishan?!"
He tore free of their hold and stumbled toward her, dropping to his knees beside her. He tried to steady her shoulders, but she thrashed, hands clawing at her own throat, at her face—fingers pressing hard against her nose as though she could block the scent out.
Kai's voice cracked with worry.
"What—what is it?! Is it poison? Is there something in the air?!"
He felt fine, though. Everyone else did too.
"Seishan! I-I'm sorry but you have to talk to me!"
Her eyes focused, albeit barely. They locked onto him.
She knew him—practically everyone in the Bright Castle knew Kai.
Her hand shot up and seized his collar.
"K-Kai… get… everyone… o-out…!"
Each word scraped its way out of her mouth. Her instincts were screaming over every coherent thought. The need for blood was tearing through her like fire.
Kai swallowed hard, nodded once, and hauled her up.
"Everyone! Move! Now!"
They were already running before. But now, it was a dead sprint.
Aiko helped keep Cassie upright. Kai felt strength return to his legs as adrenaline took over. He and Seishan pushed to the front, with the strongest fighters flanking them.
Escape was close.
Or maybe not…
The main hall suddenly felt like a terrible idea.
They rushed down the corridor, boots pounding against stone.
Then Seishan's grip suddenly tightened.
And—
"KAI! STOP RUNNING, NOW—!"
Effie's voice cracked from somewhere behind them.
Kai didn't waste a second. He twisted hard, dragging Seishan with him and throwing them both backward. The action saved their lives.
Because the next millisecond, the ceiling exploded.
From above, something massive pierced downward—six elongated, finger-like appendages slamming through the stone. The impact wasn't just physical. A violent shockwave followed, a crushing roar that flattened everything in its path.
The hallway imploded.
Kai and Seishan avoided the center, but even the edge of it was enough. He felt an unfathomable amount of pain ring in his skull. His ears rang—and then warm liquid spilled down his ears and nose.
They were airborne.
He hit the wall and bounced off it like a doll. Bodies flew around him. He caught glimpses—Aiko tumbling through debris, Stev spinning end over end, Cassie vanishing into a cloud of smoke.
Still, he never let go of Seishan. They slammed into the ground together.
His vision was like a raging sea. Every sound that entered his ears dulled into a distant hum.
Seishan had already gone limp, but Kai was quite sure she wasn't dead. He forced his head up—
And saw it.
The Disaster now stood where the corridor used to be.
It was enormous. Tall enough that its head brushed the broken ceiling. Its body was too long—too narrow, wrapped in layers of rolling crimson mist that covered it like armor. The vapor itself seemed to move with intent, coiling around its limbs, thickening over its chest like plated fog.
Through the shifting haze, pale shapes flickered. Bone? Skin? Waterlogged flesh stretched too tight over something that wasn't built for it.
Perhaps even stolen flesh?
Six wing-like extensions unfurled behind it—each ending in those grotesque, fingered joints that had pierced the stone only a moment ago. Droplets slid off its form, but didn't fall like water. They evaporated midair, dissolving into the mist that fed it.
It only took Kai a second to realize that those droplets were, in fact, the mixed blood of both Nightmare Creatures and his fellow Sleepers.
He couldn't see its face—not really.
The red mist seemed to be covering it entirely—only two dim, drowned lights where its eyes might have been.
It radiated pressure. It radiated a will above his own.
It looked down at him with a presence so vast he felt like an insect. He was being crushed, despite not being in physical contact with the abomination.
Kai's thoughts staggered.
'Is… is this one of the Disasters?'
No answer came—but he knew.
This was the Disaster of the South. The Drowned.
Voices were shouting all around him. Effie. Caster. He couldn't make out the words. His body wouldn't move. Darkness crept in from the edges of his vision.
The Drowned began its advance.
It was so slow—yet far too fast for Kai's liking.
Was this it?
He didn't accept it. He couldn't. But what was left to do?
Nothing.
He had nothing.
He turned his head, forcing himself to look.
Aiko lay buried in rubble, unmoving—but breathing.
Stev had a shard of stone lodged through his shoulder. Still, he was alive.
Cassie—
Something had pierced her abdomen. Blood soaked her clothing. If no one helped her soon…
"C-Cassie…"
His chest burned—but not with pain.
He'd been entrusted with her.
He couldn't let her die. He hadn't even known her long. B-But she… she was kind and gentle. She deserved more than this broken hallway to be her grave.
"Damn it… not yet…"
Kai… Kai wanted—
He wanted to live.
He hadn't done anything worth dying for. He wanted to see Nephis's plan through to the end. Just once—once more—he wanted to see the waking world with his own eyes.
The gods, apparently, were not in agreement. It only took a second more for his eyelids to grow heavy.
The Drowned loomed above.
And then—
He laughed.
It slipped out of him in utter disbelief.
But no. It wasn't broken or bitter. He didn't feel despair in this moment.
Because just before the dark swallowed him whole, he saw it.
A streak of blinding light tore down the corridor like a falling star. It slammed into the center of the Drowned with devastating force, driving the towering mass backward. The mist armor seemed to take damage from the shock of white light.
Kai smiled faintly as consciousness left him.
He didn't need to see more.
He knew.
Nephis had come.
—
The sight Nephis saw was devastating.
There was no time to think. No time to process the ruin of the corridor, the bodies scattered like broken dolls, the mist-wreathed silhouette looming at its center.
She moved.
Everything she had—every last ember of strength—went into that single strike.
Her blade descended in a blaze of white radiance and collided with the Disaster's mass. The impact split the air with a deafening crack and forced the towering shape backward several steps, mist armor rippling violently from the force.
It wouldn't scar it.
It wouldn't wound it.
But it pushed it back.
That was her only goal.
Nephis didn't even watch the result. The moment her boots touched the ground, she twisted and ran to Cassie.
Cassie was pale.
Too pale.
Stone and twisted debris pinned her down, and the wound in her abdomen bled steadily, staining everything dark. Her breathing was shallow and uneven.
Nephis dropped to her knees.
For the first time since arriving on the Forgotten Shore—
She felt fear. Not for herself, but for somebody else.
Her hands hovered for half a second before she pressed them to Cassie's wound, light blooming from her palms. It was steadier than she felt. Warmer than the cold dread crawling up her spine.
Had she been a moment later—
Had that streak of radiance fallen a heartbeat slower—
Cassie would have been gone.
And if she had lost her…
Nephis didn't know what she would have done.
Her will—already strained to its limits—would have cracked.
Behind her, she heard the heavy, unmistakable shift of weight.
She didn't turn, nor did she need to.
Gunlang had stepped forward.
The strike she had delivered hadn't left so much as a mark on the Disaster. But it had displaced it, disrupted its advance. That sliver of time was all Gunlang required to take the forefront.
They had already decided on the way here.
Run.
There was no pride left in the decision. The Disaster had already killed over a third of the Sleepers stationed in Bright Castle.
A damned third.
That was not just a loss for a single stronghold. It was a wound upon the entire population of the Forgotten Shore.
They could not win this fight. They simply had no chance. They had to retreat.
But not before every last survivor was out.
Nephis poured more flame into Cassie, ignoring the relentless agony that poured over her being, as well as her own fatigue. She had already mended herself once and dragged Gunlang back from the brink of death on the way here.
Her reserves were thinning.
Fast.
"Move them!" Gunlang's voice thundered behind her.
Tessai lay crumpled near the collapsed wall, unconscious and bleeding from the head. Gemma knelt beside him and picked him up with physical difficulty. Sweat dripped down Gemma's jaw; his face was gray with fatigue.
Effie—
Effie was sitting upright against a pillar.
Her left arm was gone. Not simply broken—entirely ripped off.
The shoulder was a ruin of torn flesh and hastily cauterized tissue. Her face was pale, but her eyes still burned with resolve.
"Don't look at me like that," she muttered hoarsely when Gemma's gaze lingered. "I'm not dead!"
Caster stood a short distance away.
Of all of them, he looked the least injured.
His clothes were torn in places. There were shallow cuts along his cheek and forearm. Blood darkened his sleeve—but none of it was catastrophic.
He had dodged.
Every impossibly fast and crushing attack thrown at him had been evaded. He had pushed his Aspect to its absolute limit, moving so fast that he outran death.
The Disaster was fast.
But Caster was faster.
Unfortunately, it had not been enough to strike back. He was forced to pour all his energy into surviving.
Gemma staggered to his feet once Tessai's breathing evened out.
"I can get them out," he said, voice shaking. "Five minutes. Maybe less."
Gunlang's reply was immediate. "Do it, fool!"
Nephis exhaled with relief as Cassie's wound finally closed. She leaned back on her heels for a brief second, exhaustion clawing at her muscles.
Her armor was soaked in blood—hers, Gunlang's, everyone's.
She rose and turned her body.
The Disaster waited at the far end of the ruined corridor, glaring at them with something of glee in its eyes.
It didn't bother moving. It had the opportunity to advance, but did not.
It simply stood there, practically mocking them.
Nephis stared at it for a moment, then stepped forward.
'It's playing with us…'
Her expression was one of rage.
The Disaster had been treating them like nothing more than food. And it wasn't even wrong to do so.
Gunlang followed Nephis without a word. He formed his remaining golden echo into a greatsword. It rested easily in his hands, but the knuckles around it were white.
They only needed five minutes.
That was all, yet the implications of it felt like a true nightmare.
Behind them, Gemma barked hoarse orders while trying not to sway on his feet. Tessai was slung over someone else's shoulder, still unconscious and bleeding. Effie stumbled and leaned against the wall to walk, pale as chalk, with one arm missing and the other gripping it to slow the bleeding.
Caster—
He moved before Nephis could.
He… he walked past her?
Just like that.
He simply stepped ahead and stopped a few paces in front of them, as though claiming a place in line.
Nephis was dumbfounded. She blinked once, then twice.
Why wasn't he running with the others?
Caster rolled his shoulders once, tilted his neck, and tested his grip.
If someone walked in at that moment, they might have mistaken the scene for three Sleepers preparing for a particularly unpleasant patrol.
Caster opened his mouth and said calmly:
"I'll take point. You two take the flanks."
Gunlang studied him for a moment.
"Five minutes. Gemma will have them clear by then."
Caster simply nodded.
Five minutes. Plenty of time to die.
He glanced back at Nephis, and she caught a strange expression on his face.
There was something odd in his eyes… not the usual sight that unsettled her, nor the faint, constant distance he kept from everyone.
Something of acceptance was there instead.
Nephis frowned slightly.
Caster exhaled through his nose.
His purpose had always been simple. Kill the Daughter of the Immortal Flame Clan. That was the mission—the reason.
Every step he had taken on the Forgotten Shore had been measured against that goal.
And yet…
Ending here, crushed in a ruined corridor while running from something neither of them could defeat?
It left a bad taste in his mouth.
He clicked his tongue.
"I'm simply unsatisfied."
With the situation. With the timing.
With the idea that someone else—or something else—would decide how his story ended.
He drew his hand outward and summoned the Jade Jian.
The blade caught the dim light filtering through the mist and reflected it back in a thin, cold line.
Ahead of them, a calamity loomed tall.
Nephis stepped up on his right. Her armor was cracked in multiple areas. If she didn't withdraw it to her Soul Sea soon, it would break.
She was exhausted—even Caster could tell that much. Truly, if he were to go for the kill here and now, she wouldn't be able to stop him.
Gunlang took Caster's left. He planted the head of his greatsword into the ground, testing the limits of his body.
Behind them, Gemma called out that the last of the wounded were moving.
Five minutes…
Caster flexed his fingers around the hilt of his sword.
He didn't look back again.
For now, it didn't matter why he was here.
Forget the mission—rivalry—or anything about the future.
Focus on the present.
For the next five minutes, there were only three Sleepers standing in the wreckage of the Bright Castle.
Caster in front.
Nephis at his right.
Gunlang at his left.
None of them were here to win. They were simply here to spit in the Disaster's face. To make sure that when it finally crushed them, it had to actually try.
Across from them, the Disaster watched. The mist around its massive frame changed slowly.
Then—
Its head tilted, only slightly. They couldn't tell if it was confused or amused.
Beneath its crimson fog, they saw as the vapor around its features thinned. A massive grin was adorned upon it.
It smiled at them with murderous glee. As though three small figures daring to stand before it was the most delightful thing it had seen in a thousand years.
It twisted its head unnaturally, then settled its gaze on Nephis.
The mist around its face peeled back further, revealing its sickening bloodied teeth.
When it spoke, its voice was layered atop thousands of their fallen Sleepers.
"…Nephilim."
Caster didn't wait another second. With force he had never exhibited before, the ground shattered where he had stood.
A second later, he was already closing the distance. He leaned forward into the charge so fast that the air whistled past him.
Five minutes.
He would make the Disaster remember every grueling second.