The Dark City waited. A place of survivors, of factions, of humans twisted by decades of nightmare. Of Gunlaug, the tyrant of Bright Castle. Of secrets we'd only read about.
We were getting stronger. We were learning how to fight this world. But were we learning how to live in it? My Pathway was stagnant without people to observe. His asceticism was a riddle without a teacher. In the days we had spent fighting the Shard Lord, we had come up with a possible theory for how to progress Sasrir. He had properly grasped the method of a Listener, and should have done the same for a Shadow Ascetic, but not for a Secret Suppliant. In our own theories, we believed the Acting Method should be similar to a Seer's: being respectful towards higher entities, engaging with higher entities, and pleasing higher entities.
The problem was, there was no creature capable of safely answering our summoning's. They were either all dead or mad, and inviting the latter was asking for trouble. However, Sasrir came up with a possible roundabout-using the Shadow Summoning and combining it with the Ritualistic Magic to beseech a creature from the Underworld or Shadow Domain to come up. Our attention was preoccupied right now, but we decided to give it a try after killing the Bone Lord. And that happened not too long after.
The final assault began not with a roar, but with a shared, silent glance. We knew the drill by now. Sasrir took his position, a pillar of swirling darkness amidst the bone-strewn floor. I raised the Crucifix, its familiar weight a comfort. The golden light of the Light Supplicant bloomed around us, a defiant sun in the oppressive dark.
Sasrir's hands moved in a blur. He wasn't throwing single daggers anymore. He launched volleys. Dozens of sharp, dark needles streaked across the chamber. They peppered the Bone Tyrant's form, each one a tiny shock to its system. The massive creature shuddered under the relentless soul-deep assault, its movements growing slower, more clumsy.
This was our signal. I focused, pouring my will into the Crucifix. A beam of searing, concentrated sunlight lanced out. I didn't aim for a new spot. I aimed for the deep, blackened cavity we had burned into its chest over the past two days. The light struck true, sizzling against the brittle, charred bone.
The Tyrant recoiled with a psychic shriek of pure rage. It retaliated on instinct, summoning a storm of bone shards. They flew toward me, a blizzard of sharpened death. But I was ready. I ducked and weaved, the movements now practiced. Most of the shards clattered harmlessly against the coral pillars behind me.
Sasrir didn't let up. While the Tyrant was focused on me, he changed tactics. The needle-volleys ceased. From the shadows at his feet, a larger, more substantial weapon began to form. It was a spear, long and wicked, woven from solidified darkness and pure malice. He hefted it, waiting for his moment.
The monster, frustrated, tried a new approach. It slammed a massive, bone-fused fist into the ground. The impact shook the entire chamber. From the point of impact, a wave of sharpened ribs erupted from the floor, racing toward Sasrir. He simply dissolved into shadow, letting the attack pass through him harmlessly, before solidifying again, spear still in hand.
Its attention was split, its energy flagging. This was our chance. I sent another precise beam of light into the cavity. This time, a large chunk of blackened bone cracked and fell away, revealing a faint, pulsing glow deep within. We were close. So close.
The Tyrant seemed to sense its impending doom. It began to gather the bones around it, pulling them in to form a thick, protective cage over its exposed core. It was trying to heal, to seal itself shut again. We couldn't let that happen. All our work would be for nothing.
"Now, Sasrir!" I yelled, my voice echoing in the vast space.
He didn't need to be told twice. He took two running steps and hurled the shadow spear with all his strength. It phased through the air, striking the newly formed bone armor, and sank directly into the glowing core within.
The effect was instantaneous. The Bone Tyrant froze. Its psychic presence, a constant pressure of hatred and fury, suddenly hitched. Then, it let out a sound I'd never heard before—a deep, grinding, final death rattle that seemed to come from the very bones around us. The cage of bones it had been building around its core shattered, falling apart uselessly.
The core was exposed again, pulsing erratically. It was now or never. I poured my will and Essence into the Unshadowed Crucifix. I didn't just ask for light; I demanded it.
A single, brilliant pillar of pure sunlight descended from the ceiling of the cavern. It wasn't a beam from me. It was an orbital strike, called down from the heavens. It slammed directly into the exposed, glowing core.
There was no scream this time. Just a silent, intense flash of light that filled the entire chamber. When it faded, the core was gone. Vaporized. The massive bone body that was the Lord of the Dead lost all cohesion. It collapsed into a lifeless, ordinary pile of bones, no different from the millions of others in the catacombs.
Silence fell. The only sound was our ragged breathing. Then, the cold, familiar voice of the Spell echoed in my mind, clear and triumphant.
[You have defeated a Fallen Tyrant: Lord of the Dead.]
[You have received a Memory: Starlight Shard.]
It was over. We'd actually done it. I sank to my knees, exhaustion finally washing over me. Across the chamber, Sasrir stood amidst the settling dust, a faint, satisfied smirk on his face. We had our prize.
**********************************************
The five-day grind to kill the monster had left us running on empty. Our food supply was shot, most of it funneled into me to keep my blood levels up. I wasn't a glutton from the Tail-Devourer Pathway, though. My stomach had its limits, and I'd spent more than one afternoon regretting my last meal. My recovery wasn't exactly a straight line.
Sasrir, ever the provider, had managed to snag another two of those hammer-headed dogs. Now, we were roasting them over a small fire we'd built right on the stone neck of the Priestess's statue. It felt a little disrespectful, but hey, a guy's gotta eat.
As Sasrir idly turned the skewers, the smell of cooking meat filling the air, I focused on the real prize. I summoned the Runes for the Starlight Shard, the Memory we'd bled for.
Memory Name: Starlight Shard
Memory Rank: Awakened.
Memory Type: Armour.
Memory Description: [Those who witnessed this cloak claimed the ends extended infinitely onwards, like a comet trail blazing the way forward. For what is a leader, if not a trailblazer?]
Memory Tier: III.
Memory Enchantments: [Grace of Stars], [Night's Concealment], [Zealous Ordainment].
[Grace of Stars Description: This cloak glimmers with the light of the stars, which also imbues it with their blessings. All attributes, including recovery, are boosted and the effect grows stronger at night.]
[Night's Concealment Description: At night, can cast a concealment of the stars that makes you appear hazy and indiscernible, also allowing you to hide from creatures with lesser intellect.]
[Zealous Ordainment Description: All allies who witness the cloak receive a portion of the blessing of the stars, and gain both strength and courage.]