Chapter 639: Neverending Nightmare
Sunny woke up from a nightmare where he was a shadow that had lost the will to live, who woke up from a nightmare where he was a prince being drowned in a fiery tomb of molten steel, who woke up from a nightmare where he was an old man dying as he held the body of his murdered mother, who woke up from a nightmare where he was a mortal watching his world being destroyed by a god.
Soon enough, Sunny found himself tied to a stake, with fire spreading through the pile of tinder beneath his bare feet as a crowd of people whom he had considered friends and neighbors watched with demented glee. All he could do was struggle desperately against his bonds and pray that the smoke would smother him before the flames reached his flesh…
But his prayers were not answered.
Screaming from inside the fire, he died.
…It was time to face a new day.
Sunny fought desperately as sharp fangs tore his flesh apart, as he was being eaten alive. But no matter how much he struggled, it was of no use. The monster was just too strong, and mad, and cruel.
And then, he died.
It was time to face a new day again.
Sunny drowned, a heavy chain tied around his legs.
Sunny bled to death on a battlefield, suffering from terrible thirst and too weak to move, hungry crows tearing at his face with sharp beaks.
Sunny watched his entire family be executed before being hanged from the walls of a somber fortress.
Thrown into the boundless darkness of the Sky Below by his heartless mother, Sunny died of hunger, thirst, and fear, too tired to scream or cry.
Sunny was killed and turned into a wooden doll by a vengeful sorcerer, and then killed again after an eternity of silent servitude, the doll burning to ashes as it fell into an ocean of white flames.
His heart was pierced with an obsidian knife on an altar made of pure darkness.
His body was cleaved apart by the blade of a giant warrior in a red tattered robe while the jubilant crowd cheered from the stone seats of an ancient theater.
…It was time to face a new day again.
The nightmares never ended, bleeding into one another. Each time, Sunny woke up sure that the agony he had experienced was just a harrowing dream. But very soon, his waking life would turn into pure horror itself.
And then, he would die.
And then, it would be time to face a new day again.
Sunny dreamt of being mighty and weak, young and old, men and women, humans and beasts. Their end was always the same. Everywhere he went, everywhere he fled, no matter who he was, there was only pain and death.
And madness. It was as though everyone he met was infected by a terrible, unexplainable madness.
The whole world was mad…
And he was slowly going mad, too.
After a while, he found that waking up was getting harder and harder. Sometimes, he failed to differentiate which of his lives was real, and which ones he had just dreamt of. Even though the horrors he had experienced seemed like a nightmare, their weight accumulated, slowly breaking his spirit apart. His faces changed, his memories changed, but one thing always remain the same.
The terror.
The everpresent, chilling terror of waking up from a nightmare only to be thrust into a worse one instead.
…And two other things remained the same, as well. The pain in his chest, and the spheres of light that he saw from time to time burning inside someone's soul.
Sunny was a soldier in a war between the Ivory City and the Red Colosseum. Consumed by terror, he watched as a brilliant colossus made of lustrous steel stepped forward, making the whole island shake. A giant metal hand slowly moved forward, catching a swift flying ship and crushing the vessel in its enormous fist.
And then, the iron giant took another step…
Suddenly, the sky disappeared, replaced by a vast expanse of polished metal. The colossus brought his foot down, crushing Sunny, and all of his comrades, into a bloody paste.
Sunny died…
And then, he woke up with a scream.
It was time to face a new day again.
'That… that was too much.'
He shivered, remembering the terrifying sight of the steel giant advancing toward the trembling row of soldiers. Who would be mad enough to challenge the indestructible Sun Prince?
Well… he knew who. The Warmongers were all insane, each and every one of them. Some said that they had been different and called by another name once, that they had been valiant and brave. Champions who protected the Kingdom of Hope from the beasts of Corruption…
But he didn't really believe it.
As long as Sunny was alive, and as long as his father was alive, and his grandfather as well, the Warmongers had been the same. Bloodthirsty monsters wearing human skins…
Luckily, the war was raging far away from here. In the northern reaches of the Kingdom of Hope, people didn't have to worry about the madness of the followers of War, and the misguided righteousness of the followers of Sun.
…Granted, they had their own worries.
Shuddering and still in the grasp of the nightmare, Sunny massaged his aching chest and rose. Today, his lady was going to meet with the emissaries of the Night Temple. It was a high honor, but also not without risk. As a knight tasked with protecting her, Sunny had to be ready for anything.
'Why… why does my heart so much today?'
Shivering, he reached for his clothes.
***
"No!"
Sunny and a young girl in a beautiful silk dress that was passed down to her from her mother, and for that reason a little bit too long for the girl's awkward figure, had nowhere else to run.
The pursuers, who had already slaughtered the rest of their party, chased them to the very edge of the island. Now, there was nothing but the darkness of the Sky Below in front of them.
…And behind them, steel hooves were already ringing on the stones, growing closer and closer.
The teenage girl stared into the bottomless abyss, then turned to him. Her lips trembled.
"Sir… what… what should we do?"
Her face was soft and pale, not yet touched by the sharpness of maturity. Her eyes, usually so gentle and bright, were now dull and full of fear.
Sunny hesitated, then drew his sword and turned his back to the abyss.
"...Don't be afraid, my lady. I'm with you."
He said those empty words, knowing full well that it was a lie. He was just one man… he was not even an Awakened. What could a mundane swordsman like him do against this foe?
The girl, young as she was, knew that he was lying, too.
A few moments before the first of the pursuer appeared from the darkness, she grabbed his forearm and looked at him with desperate resolve.
"You… don't let them... don't let them take me alive, sir. Please…"
Sunny gritted his teeth, remained silent for a second, and then slowly nodded.
His heart hurt... it hurt so much. The pain was almost blinding.
A second later, a mightly black stallion appeared in front of them, bearing an armored rider on his back.
The rider jumped down, moving with a speed that no mundane human could ever hope to match. He unsheathed his own sword and glanced at Sunny, his eyes hidden behind a visor of a menacing black helmet.
His voice sounded like a voice of an ancient monster:
"...Step aside, warrior. We only need the maiden. You can still walk away alive."
Sunny laughed.
Ah, why did his heart hurt so much… dying was already painful enough.
He looked at the Awakened hunter in front of him, then at the young girl he had sworn to protect…
'Why does this nightmare never stop?'
...And then, he lowered his sword, and stepped aside.
Both of them looked at him, the pursuer with dark amusement, his lady with shock and disbelief. Her voice trembled:
"Sir, what… what are you doing?"
Sunny remained silent for a few moments, then sighed.
'Why is this world so insane?'
"I am very sorry, my lady. Please, don't hold a grudge against me. But, you see… how do I say this…"
He looked at her, then in the direction of the Awakened hunter. Then, he shook his head and said:
"I am pretty sure that you are not real…"
Chapter 640: World That Has Gone Mad
Sunny looked at the terrified young girl, and then… laughed.
...His laughter sounded more than a little bit unhinged.
His lady shuddered:
"Sir, you… you…"
Sunny waved a hand in the air.
"No, no. No need… I understand. I sound crazy."
The night sky above them was covered in an impregnable veil of clouds, and the one below them was empty and dark. The ancient stones they stood upon were slick with rainwater, and it was too dim to see anything except for vague silhouettes.
The silhouette of the Awakened hunter was towering, menacing, and embodied the very concept of terror.
But Sunny didn't care that much.
Massaging his chest, he smiled crookedly and said, his voice hoarse and raspy:
"...But then again, this whole world is insane. Someone told me once… ah, I don't quite remember who… that we can only reflect what is in front of us. Is it my fault that there is nothing in front of me except for madness?"
He looked down, his smile turning into a wicked grin.
"And someone else once told me that they wanted to destroy the world. Back then, I thought them insane… I think… but now, I wonder…"
The Awakened hunter took a step forward, his monstrous voice permeating the darkness like an insidious murmur:
"Weak… so weak… his mind is broken..."
Sunny laughed again.
"Ah, yes… I am very, very weak. But I am not weak enough, I guess? Somehow, I have a feeling that I wasn't supposed to be able to last that long. Who would be able to endure that much pain, that much horror, and that much suffering without losing their mind completely?"
He glanced at his sword, then at the approaching enemy.
"And yet, I did. Actually, while some of those nightmares… gods, how cruel they were… did hit a nerve, overall… I am surprised to admit that... they really weren't that bad."
Sunny stared at the Awakened hunter with a concerned expression, then scratch the back of his head.
"Crazy, huh? It is almost as if after you have already been gutted once, nothing else can impress you that much. Or if you have already watched your mother die once, the second time won't be as… well… maybe it would? I don't know… I am a bit confused about what is real, and what is not. Maybe I am myself not real. There's one thing I'm sure about, though…"
The young girl slowly backed away from him, her face painted with fear. The Awakened killer tilted his head a little, then asked with curiosity:
"What?"
Sunny shrugged.
"Well, it's that, real or not, I am really... really, really hard to break. As it turns out. At least not to the point where I'll be unable to think. And notice things. Oh, and I did notice a few things…"
He slowly raised his sword and pointed it at the approaching hunter.
"One thing I noticed is that my heart always seems ache, doesn't matter whether it's in a nightmare or in the real life. So, that demands a question… if the heartache is the same, then maybe the nature of both the dream and the reality is the same, as well?"
He took a step forward, a confused expression on his face.
"The second thing I noticed was that many of my thoughts, actions, and reactions don't really make sense. Sometimes my hands will try to do something on their own, and sometimes fragments of feelings, ideas, and judgments that I have to cause to possess will just appear on their own. Easy to explain in a dream… not so much in the waking world. And I am awake, am I? Or am I? Or am I not? Sometimes, it's hard to say…"
He laughed again and assumed a defensive position, waiting for the terrifying Awakened hunter to attack.
"Well, and the last thing I noticed were the radiant spheres of light I seem to be able to see inside the souls of living beings… or vile orbs of darkness in those of the Corrupted. It took me a few nightmares to realize that those were soul cores. Strangely, once again, this ability pursued me from the nightmares into reality, making the two seem so much alike. So… with all that said… I am really only curious about one thing."
Sunny smiled, ready to meet his death… once more.
"You see… in my nightmares, I met all kinds of creatures. Awakened warriors, Corrupted monsters… even Transcendent immortals. Some of them had one soul core, some two or three…"
He lingered for a moment, and then looked past his enemy, at the mighty black steed standing motionless behind him, barely visible in the shadows.
"So, my question is… why does this damned horse always have six?"
...With that, he dashed in the opposite direction from where the hunter's sword flashed, abandoning the young girl he was sworn to protect without a second thought.
Sliding on the wet stones, Sunny dove under the flying blade and jumped to his feet, putting all of his weight into an attack of his own.
However, his strike was not directed at the menacing killer… instead, it was directed at the tenebrous steed.
Unobstructed, the tip of the sword touched the mighty beast's onyx coat… and shattered, as if striking adamantine stone instead of a living being.
In the next moment, the Awakened hunter's blade pierced him from behind, exiting out of Sunny's chest in a fountain of blood.
Ignoring the terrible pain and the blood that was flowing from his mouth, Sunny grinned and looked at the motionless horse.
The stallion looked at him back, his eyes dark and full of boundless, terrifying malevolence.
A gargling laughter escaped from Sunny's lips.
"Doesn't matter… it doesn't matter. Kill me again, bastard… kill me as many times as you want. In this nightmare, I am just a mundane swordsman… but in the next one, or the one after that, or the one after that… I'll be someone powerful enough to rip you to shreds. And then I will kill you again, and again… and again. Let's see which one of us is going to break first, you wretched pony!"
The black steed looked down at Sunny, his eyes igniting with ghostly crimson flames.
He snorted quietly, and then opened his mouth, full of sharp teeth that were more like those of a wolf than that of a horse.
And then, the Nightmare bit down on the trembling human's head, easily crushing it between his mighty jaws.
Sunny died.
And woke up with a tortured scream.
It was time to face a new day…
He rolled out of the dingy tent he had been sleeping in and grinned, mad sparks igniting in his dark eyes.
It was time to hunt an evil horse…
Chapter 641: Dream Battle
Sunny and the diabolical steed of the fallen Shadow Lord battled across an endless tapestry of nightmares. Both were possessed by an insatiable desire to destroy the other, burning with bloodlust, fury, and relentless killing intent.
Their blood flowed across a hundred harrowing dreams, dissolving into the crimson rivers that had been spilled in the Kingdom of Hope across the centuries. As the weaker of the two, it was Sunny who bled most of the time… but every time he was torn apart and killed, he made sure to at least leave a mark on the stallion's tenebrous black body.
No matter how many times the damned horse killed Sunny, he had to share in the pain. Sunny was not only being hunted… no, he was a hunter himself. What did it matter how many deaths he experienced, what ghastly torments the nightmares held in store for him? In this realm of terrors, he was as immortal as the stygian steed. Every time he died, he was reborn anew.
And every time he was reborn, there was a chance of becoming someone — or something — that the infernal stallion would not be able to defeat. When that happened, their roles reversed, and it was the black horse that had to suffer, be broken, and die by his hand.
Every kill filled Sunny's soul with jubilant, dark glee.
He didn't care about dying over and over again, about witnessing atrocious horrors and experiencing the worst cruelty a person could imagine. He wasn't even sure that he was a person, after all. But no matter who or what he was, Sunny was content to endure as much agony as there was, as long as he could make the dark courser feel it too.
Neither of them could die in the dream, so this battle was going to be decided by the tenacity of their wills.
They were going to see whose spirit would break first…
Sadly, the opportunities to really hurt the shadow steed were few and far between. Across all of the history of the Kingdom of Hope, there were not that many creatures that could challenge his vicious strength, and even less that Sunny was fortunate enough to inhabit in their darkest moment of despair.
That was not to say that his hunt was without success.
After giving in to madness and abandoning faith in the reality of the nightmares, and of his own memories, Sunny was left with a gaping emptiness in place of where his identity was supposed to be. He knew very few things about who he really was, and didn't really care to know more. It held no meaning for his goal of tormenting and killing the black horse, over and over again… nevertheless, a few constant things soon revealed themselves.
His aching heart, his gift of gazing into the very souls of living beings… and his name. That was the only thing he managed to remember…
Lost from Light.
That was his name, and that was who he was.
After Lost from Light managed to remember his name, it acted as an irresistible anchor that slowly pulled other things from the darkness of oblivion that shrouded his true self. Not actual memories, but far more useful things… skills, fragments of knowledge, insights, patterns of thought…
Just like a body had a memory of its own, a soul had one as well. Knowing one's name, the true name, was a key to unlocking it.
So, he wasn't completely helpless against the infernal steed.
What's more, Lost from Light discovered that he had a strange aptitude for this harrowing dream battle of theirs. Waking up in a new body after each death — be it a man or a woman, a child or an elder, a human or a beast, a mundane creature or an Awakened one that possessed unique and unexplainable powers — would have been utterly confusing and debilitating for any warrior. How could one fight if they didn't know themselves?
But his mind possessed a remarkable flexibility to it, an insidious ability to adapt to any circumstance almost in an instant, as though it was formless and shapeless by nature, and thus easily molded to fit any situation.
Lost from Light found out that he could masterfully wield a large number of weapons regardless of whom he was reborn as, as though he had fought in countless battles before. He was able to learn to wield any other by simply observing his enemies for a few moments. He could easily peer through their technique and intentions, and use that knowledge to destroy them.
When he was reborn as a fearsome creature, he could almost instantly understand how to use his bestial body to rip the enemies to shreds, as though he had lived countless lives as countless monsters.
But, most importantly, he found out that fighting against those who were stronger than him was his second nature. Lost from Light's mind was full of treachery and cunning, which he could use to deliver terrible wounds to the fearsome stallion even when their might was vastly incomparable.
And so, they hunted and killed each other through numerous nightmares, waiting to see which one would break first under the weight of hopelessness and neverending suffering.
Lost from Light wouldn't break.
...But the damned horse refused to break, too.
The black steed was as resilient as he was, as stubborn, as willful, and as ruthless. It endured the endless stream of wounds and deaths Lost from Light delivered upon him with the same unbreakable determination, his hatred and murderous fury only growing stronger.
The courser possessed an evil will and a devious mind of his own. He was ready to suffer terrible torment for eternity, too, as long as it meant destroying his enemy over and over again. Not caring about the agony, the stallion seemed darkly content to share it with his feral prey, as well.
The black steed was as mad as Lost from Light was.
Neither of them gave up, no matter how many times they were mangled, mutilated, ripped apart, and killed.
Neither of them broke.
…So, in the end, it was the neverending nightmare that had to fracture and fall apart instead.
Chapter 642: Rude Awakening
Bloodied and crazed, Lost from Light dragged his body across a vast plane of weathered stone, his sword scraping on the black rocks. Behind him, the shattered remains of a warship were being consumed by fire, painting the darkness of the night with an angry orange glow.
…In front of him, some distance away, a beautiful black steed stood on shaky legs, red foam falling from his mouth. The eyes of the tenebrous beast shone with a dreadful crimson light, but behind the boundless fury and hate, a deep sense of exhaustion hid there, mixed with confusion, resentment, and pain.
Lost from Light grinned.
"What... what are you waiting for? Come here! Come and take me, wretch!"
The stallion breathed heavily, streams of searing steam escaping from his nostrils. He snorted with anger, then lunged forward, lowering his head to skewer the enemy with sharp horns. His steel hooves rang sonorously, causing swarms of red sparks to fly off the ancient stone, and his black mane waved in the wind like a stream of pure darkness.
They clashed beneath the empty night sky…
And then, Lost from Light died.
…Or so he thought.
Instead of dissolving into darkness and being reborn into a new nightmare, he fell to the ground, causing the whole world to shudder.
'What is this? Am I finally done for?'
He thought that he saw strange tears appear in the very fabric of reality...
And then, reality crumbled like a vast black veil. Everything around him — the stone island, the burning debris of the broken ship, even the lightless black sky — rippled and swayed, as a silk curtain that was being crumbled by an invisible, giant hand. A moment later, torn and broken, that curtain fell apart.
…It was a magnificent sight, to see a whole world disintegrating right before your eyes.
Some time later, Lost from Light found himself in a boundless darkness, surrounded by pure nothingness. His pain was no more… in fact, he didn't even seem to possess a body. Instead, he had turned into a formless shadow, with three orbs of black fire burning furiously in its depths.
Lost from Light laughed.
"What happened? Don't tell me… don't tell me that you ran out of nightmares, beast! Oh, what will you do now?!"
Instead of a response, something moved in front of him… behind him… all around him.
Out there in the darkness, there was another shadow. But this one… this one was deeper, vaster, and much more ancient.
It was full of malevolence and hatred.
As his voice echoed in the nothingness, the vast shadow suddenly surged forward, enveloping him.
And then…
Lost from Light… Sunny… woke up.
***
Sunny rolled out of the bed, clutching at his chest. His gauntlet scraped against the onyx metal of the Mantle of the Underworld, and in the next second, he fell onto the cold stone floor, looking around wildly, his eyes full of confusion and fear.
"W—where am I? Another nightmare?"
He saw a terrifying snake coiled in a corner, pale moonlight glistening on its stygian scales, and a graceful knight in black armor standing guard at the door. For a moment, Sunny panicked, but then remembered who they were.
'...Saint? Soul Serpent?'
And then, he remembered who he was.
His pupils widened.
"I'm… awake."
The fragmented memories of the countless nightmares drowned his mind, each one more harrowing than the other. Some of them were already fading away, like dreams usually did… but some remained, almost as vivid and vibrant — and terrible — as when he had lived them.
Sunny shuddered and let out a stifled shriek.
For a few moments, his sense of self grew fragile, the madness of his nightmare self clashing against his actual being. But then, the real him, the one that was an Awakened fighter instead of a nameless being locked inside a neverending wheel of torturous nightmares, won over and absorbed the other… somehow.
It was a proper mess.
But Sunny had no time to pay a lot of attention to the chaotic and, without a doubt, dire process of his different divergent selves melding together.
Because, as soon as he fell to the floor, he heard the painfully familiar sound... loud, threatening... drawing closer and closer.
The ringing of steel hooves on cold stone.
'How…what…'
He was too disoriented and shell-shocked to gather his thoughts and understand what was happening.
He knew only one thing for sure.
...The damned horse was coming!
Saint suddenly raised her shield and stared at the door, while the Soul Serpent silently blended with the shadows.
Sunny was already trying to stand up, a desperate thought trying to form in his mind:
'Memory… I need to summon a Memory… I need a weapon…'
But he didn't get a chance to.
Just a moment later, the wall of the chamber suddenly exploded into a flood of stone shrapnel, and two furious crimson eyes appeared in the darkness behind it.
The black stallion… the Awakened Terror that had once been Shadow Lord's steed and companion… galloped into the chamber right through the stone wall and rammed into Sunny without slowing down one bit.
In the short moment before that happened, Sunny got a chance to get a good look at him. The creature appeared exactly as it had in the nightmares.
The stallion was tall and graceful, his coat as black as night and his eyes burning with menacing crimson light. Lean muscles rolled under his skin with each movement, making it glisten with dark luster. His hooves seemed to be forged out of somber adamantine metal, as were his curved horns and sharp, terrifying fangs.
The tenebrous steed seemed to be surrounded by shadows, his silhouette cloaked in their dark mantle. He was as beautiful as he was terrifying…
More importantly, the Terror was heading right for Sunny, with cold hatred burning in his dreadful eyes.
A split second later, the stallion rammed him at full speed.
'Argh!'
The black horns failed to pierce the stonelike metal of the Mantle of the Underworld, but Sunny felt as though he was hit by a speeding train. His armored body was raised into the air and flung backward.
The courser carried him forward on the sharp horns, and a moment later, rammed into the other wall of the room, shattering it with Sunny's back.
Sunny felt another terrifying impact, and his vision momentarily went black.
…Surrounded by a cloud of stone debris, the two of them — the demon and the Terror — fell out of the jagged breach in the keep's outer wall and into the cool night air, plummeting down from the height of the abandoned castle's main tower.
'Damned horse... why can't you just die?!'
Chapter 643: Clash of Shadows
Sunny and the black steed plummeted down in a cloud of shattered stone. Far below them, the courtyard of the boundary fortress lay, shrouded in darkness. It was growing closer and closer, approaching with terrifying speed.
Neither paid it any attention, however.
The stallion bit down on Sunny's shoulder with all his might, his sharp fangs scraping against the stonelike metal of the Mantle of the Underworld. The fearsome onyx armor was an Ascended Memory of the sixth Tier, a whole Rank above the diabolical Shadow, so the courser was not supposed to be able to damage it.
However, to Sunny's shock and dismay, the metal plates actually groaned and bent, crushing his flesh. He roared with pain and anger, then thrust his four hands forward, ripping the Terror's chest with his claws.
Drops of blood fell down like rain.
Intertwined, the two of them hit the cobblestones of the desolate courtyard. However, instead of being broken by the fall, both simply submerged into the veil of shadows drowning it, as if the ancient stones had turned into a lake of liquid darkness.
For a moment, Sunny found himself floating in the tenebrous embrace of deep, unfathomable shadows. Usually, turning into a ghostly shade would have meant escaping to safety…
But today, his enemy was a similar creature himself.
A vast and terrifying presence lunged at him from the darkness, full of fury and boundless, chilling killing intent. The black steed had pursued him even into the shadows.
However, this time, Sunny was ready.
He had never fought anyone, or anything, as a shadow. But he had been attacked in this form twice, first by the Mirror Beast, and then by its insidious creator… Mordret of Valor, the Prince of Nothing. Both were able to steal his own ability, and use it against him.
What did it mean?
It meant that while Sunny could not damage mundane shadows, as Shadow Blade Kurt had been able to, he was capable of destroying other shadow creatures, just like they were capable of destroying him.
In his shadow state, Sunny was shapeless and formless… but that also meant that he could assume any shape and any form. It was just a matter of his will, mind, and imagination.
As the vast presence that was the nightmare steed lunged at him, he moved to meet it, turning into a long, narrow blade made of darkness. They clashed, tearing each other's souls apart. Sunny's whole being was instantly drowned by terrible suffering… but he also felt a silent scream of agony escaping from the rippling shadow that was trying to enshroud him.
Both the demon and the Terror were thrown back into the corporeal world, Sunny rolling away on the cold stones, the tenebrous steed sliding on them as his hooves struck sparks into the air.
'Kill… I'm gonna kill you, bastard… just you wait…'
Sunny roared and rose to his feet, outstretching one hand to summon the Cruel Sight, and another to summon the Moonlight Shard.
Two burning crimson eyes streaked through the darkness, and he was hit in the chest again. His lower hands grabbed the horns of the infernal stallion, and the Mantle of the Underworld suddenly grew as heavy as a mountain.
…That didn't slow down the courser one bit, however.
Together, they struck the wall of the dilapidated fortress. Sunny shrieked, feeling his spine come very close to snapping. If not for Bone Weave, he would have undoubtedly been shattered into pieces.
Instead, the wall of the fortress was shattered instead.
A whole section of it cracked, and then crumbled, making the ground tremble as a vast cloud of dust rose into the air and blotted out the stars. The damned Terror carried him through the cloud, emerging from the other side of it a split second later, and then threw Sunny to the ground, trying to impale him with the horns.
But his enemy never let go of them, so instead, the four-armored demon was dragged across the emerald grass, tearing the soil apart. One of his hands flashed forward, piercing one of the stallion's eyes with a ghostly stiletto.
Or at least, trying to.
At the last moment, the black horse snapped its head sideways and bit down on the blade of the Moonlight Shard with his fangs, then jerked his neck and sent Sunny flying through the air.
'Damnation!'
Sunny spun in the air and landed on his feet, sliding back a dozen meters as the soles of his armored boots tore the ground. A moment later, he grasped the shaft of the Cruel Sight from the air and raised the somber spear, ready to strike the enemy.
…But the black steed had somehow disappeared and was nowhere in sight.
His vertical pupils narrowed, and then Sunny spun, sensing a swift and vast shadow circling him from behind.
The blade of the Cruel Sigh suddenly shone with pure light, tearing the darkness apart. The nightmarish courser was forced back into the corporeal form, and instantly came under attack. The tip of the spear bit deep into his shoulder, causing more blood to fall on the grass.
Uncaring, the Terror twisted and shifted his weight, standing on his front legs as both hind ones were thrown into the air, drawn like powerful springs.
Sunny shivered.
'Cra…'
In the next moment, the black horse struck backward with both legs, catching him square in the chest. The breastplate of the Mantle of the Underworld rang mournfully as a thin net of cracks appeared on it.
Stunned and blinded, Sunny was sent backward, flying above the ground with terrible speed. He collided against an ancient tree and went right through it, the thick trunk exploding into a cloud of splinters. Then, he hit the ground and bounced from it, flew some more, then crashed down again and rolled for dozens of meters, blood shooting out of his mouth.
'Hurt… argh, that hurt…'
His heart hurt, too.
It hurt way, way too much.
Gulping for air and unable to force it into his four lungs, Sunny shakily rose to his feet and stubbornly raised the Cruel Sight.
And then, the black steed shot from the darkness and rammed into him again.
…This time, both of them slid off the edge of the island.
Chapter 644: My Enemy
Sunny and the stygian courser continued their battle in the darkness of the Sky Below, then fell on the swaying surface of a heavenly chain. Turning into swift shadows, they clashed again and again as they glided across its length with terrible speed, ripping each other's souls to shreds.
Traversing many kilometers in a matter of a dozen heartbeats, they emerged from the shadows and shot upward, then crashed on the surface of the next island, wrecking and destroying anything that appeared in their way.
The courser rammed Sunny again and again, carrying him further and further away through the night, not giving Saint and the Soul Serpent any chance to catch up. The stallion used his devastating hooves, his adamantine horns, and his sharp fangs… anything he had to deliver as much pain and damage to the wicked, tenacious, hateful enemy of his.
But Sunny was consumed with the same murderous fury. He returned the favor with his weapons, his claws, and his own fangs and horns as well, forgetting everything except for the crazed desire to obliterate his foe.
They rolled across the unfamiliar island like a wave of destruction and flew high into the sky — Sunny with the help of the Dark Wing and the Heavenly Burden, the Terror with the help of nothing but the force of his hind legs and the terrifying range of his dashing jump.
His fangs caught the fragile fabric of the transparent cloak, tearing it apart, and then both of them plummeted down once more, landing on another chain and instantly submerging into shadows.
Just like that, they fought without stop, overwhelmed by the maddening desire to destroy the enemy. When they clashed in their corporeal forms, Sunny was always on the losing side, receiving more wounds and being thrown around like a tattered rag doll.
However, when they became shadows, he held the advantage. Despite the fact that the black steed was three whole Classes ahead of him, they were of the same Rank. And while the courser was a more ancient and powerful Shadow…
Sunny was a divine one.
Suffused with the flame of divinity, each of his attacks dealt more damage, and that damage was far more terrible, as well. His shadow form, while much smaller, was far more fathomless and resilient. Held together by the bond of a True Name, his soul was much harder to destroy.
They fought, and fought, and fought, flying through the night as their bodies became broken and bloodied, and their souls became tattered and torn.
And yet, neither was willing to give up. Neither was willing to let the enemy live.
Sunny had never experienced a battle that was so ferocious, swift, and devastating. Everything happened too fast, and hurt too much, for him to properly perceive and comprehend. At some point, he stopped trying to, giving in entirely to his intuition and battle instinct.
There was only one truth and one unbreakable law, after all.
He had to kill the enemy, and prevent the enemy from killing him.
Everything else was just noise.
…Finally, exhausted and covered in wounds, they reached a deserted island where nothing living dwelled or grew. Rolling on the ground, Sunny used two shadows to augment his mangled body, and the third one to serve as his second pair of eyes.
Deep in the battle trance of clarity, he was able to perceive the whole world as one interconnected picture, with each part of it existing within the same complicated pattern as all the rest. His mind was forged into a single sharp edge, all of his thought dedicated to the battle, clear, purposeful. and swift.
He saw the silhouette of the infernal black horse approach him from the darkness, bloody foam streaming from the stallion's mouth, unshaken will burning in the dreadful crimson eyes.
By now, the two of them knew each other better than they knew themselves. After all, they had spent countless nightmares hunting and killing each other, only to continue the battle in reality after the nightmares could not keep up anymore.
They were evenly matched… the black steed was far more powerful and had experienced centuries of bloody battles, but Sunny was devious, cunning, and full of insidious treachery that made up for his lack of strength.
Neither could overwhelm the other, and at this point, both were probably going to die trying.
The steed seemed to be at peace with such an outcome. And Sunny... Sunny was too.
…He would have preferred to stay alive, though.
'Curse you…'
A low growl escaped from his lips, and then, Sunny suddenly dismissed his weapons, and even his armor, standing motionlessly under the starlit sky, his nakedness covered only by a crude loincloth.
Raising one hand, he massaged his aching chest, then bared his fangs in a dark grin and growled.
'Let us end this, then.'
The black steed stared at the hateful enemy for a few moments, and then lowered his head, starlight shining on the sharp tips of his horns.
And then, the courser charged forward, breaking the ground with the push of his adamantine hooves.
Sunny lunged forward, as well.
He had only one gamble left. One desperate, devious trick…
Since he and the tenebrous stallion knew each other so well, he was going to try and turn into the Terror's shadow.
Using Shadow Dance against another shadow was a strange concept, since shadows were formless and shapeless by nature. How was he supposed to peer into the very essence of something that was shifting and everchanging?
Well… he was either going to do it, somehow, or die.
That was why Sunny had dismissed his armor and his weapons. The black stallion did not use any weapons or armor, after all… only his hooves, his fangs, his horns, his unbreakable will, and his furious desire to kill.
That was what Sunny had to use, too.
He recalled everything he could about the endless stream of nightmares… every torturous death, every indescribable torment, every excruciating loss he still remembered… and how his enemy had been in those vile dreams.
He remembered a similar deserted island, centuries ago, where the Shadow Lord said his last goodbye to his faithful steed, and their exhilarating ride across the night skies just before that.
He remembered every wound that the stallion had dealt him, and every wound that he had dealt in return.
...And then, he tried to use Shadow Dance like he had used it on countless humans and creatures before — only this time, peering even deeper, wishing to understand even more.
For a moment, it was as though Sunny himself became the stygian steed.
He felt it… the rage, the hatred, the dark resolve… but also, deep underneath it, boundless loneliness, sorrow, and longing.
Ah… what a terrible fate it was, for a shadow to walk the world without its master…
He saw himself wandering across the ruins of the Kingdom of Hope, mournful and lost, and then returning to the now empty fortress that had once been his home… his master's home… only to see it be overtaken and desecrated by marauding strangers.
He felt a deep, maddening rage, and gave in to this madness, letting it consume him.
And then, Sunny saw himself charging at a bloodied form of a four-armed demon.
He saw clearly what the black steed was going to do to kill him, a split second before it happened.
And so, he sidestepped the attack before it even came, raised his upper arms, locked his fists together, and brought them down with all the devastating, inhuman power he had.
The charge of the stallion missed, and instead, a terrible blow descended from above, landing on his spine and shattering it.
The black steed tumbled to the ground, suddenly paralyzed, and remained laying there, his side rising and falling shakily, his hoarse breathing slowing down and down…
Sunny fell, too.
'Ah… hell…'
It felt like he was dying, too.
The pain in his chest had finally grown intolerable, as if his heart finally reached its limit.
Turning his head, he stared at the dying horse, whose dreadful crimson eyes were slowly growing dim and cold.
After a while, the madness burning in them was extinguished, and a shadow of a new emotion appeared in them.
Confusion, pain… and sudden recognition.
The black steed breathed in one last time, then let out of quiet whine.
And died.
Sunny closed his eyes.
He was so, so tired.
'...I won.'
Well… then, maybe, it was time for him to die, too.
In the darkness, the voice of the Spell whispered into his ear, its voice soft and solemn:
[You have slain an Awakened Shadow, Nightmare.]
[Your shadow grows stronger.]
He felt a vast amount of shadow fragments flow into his cores, reinforcing them, and thought tiredly:
'Strange… that doesn't feel like just six of them…'
...But the Spell was not done speaking.
It remained silent for a moment, and then said:
[...You have received a Shadow.]
[Your Aspect Legacy mastery level has increased.]
[You have received the right to claim a Legacy Relic.]
Sunny weakly tried to smile.
'Such great news... this would have been great, if I was not dying.'
And then, a strange sound invaded his ears. It sounded like... like... the rustle of sails...
Chapter 645: Facing a New Day
…There was warmth, sunlight, and the smell of fresh sheets, wood, and green leaves. Sunny slowly opened his eyes and felt the bed beneath him sway gently. No... the world itself had swayed.
It was time to face a new day.
Suddenly overwhelmed by terror, he sat up with a growl, his eyes wildly searching for the signs of danger, disaster, and death. His four hands rose, sharp claws ready to tear flesh apart.
'No, no, no… it was all a dream, I'm in the nightmare again! I never escaped!'
Panic washed over his mind, but the slowly receded.
Sunny remained motionless for a few moments, then lowered his gaze and stared at his four hands. Four… this was the shadow demon's body. He was awake. He was himself… well, the Nightmare version of himself… ah, it was all so convoluted…
He remembered the desolate fortress, the endless torments he had dreamt of, the fearsome battle with the black steed, and his eventual victory. The terrible pain of his last heart giving out.
…Tu-tum-tu-tump. Tu-tum-tu-tump. Tu-tum-tu-tump.
Hearing the strange sound, Sunny looked at his chest.
His three shadows were sprawled on the ground, so the rough skin of the shadow demon had lost its obsidian color and was back to its original complexion, as pale and grey as it had been back when he first entered the Nightmare. There was a thin, barely noticeable scar running vertically from his collarbone to his abdomen.
And beneath it… tu-tum-tu-tump… two mighty hearts were beating steadily, circulating rivers of blood through the gaunt, towering body of the four-armed demon.
He blinked a couple of times.
'I am… alive?'
Not only was he alive, but he also seemed to possess two perfectly healthy hearts.
Remembering something, Sunny shifted his gaze back to his hands and noticed that his two missing fingers were now back, be it of a slightly different color and seemingly carved out of ashen, polished wood. He tentatively made his hands into fists, and saw the wooden fingers bend as if they were no different from the other eighteen.
He could even feel the texture of the skin on his palms pressing against their tips. His two new claws were forged out of lusterless steel.
Finally, Sunny raised his eyes and looked around, trying to understand where he was.
The room he saw was not very spacious, but also not small. Its walls and ceiling were made out of wood, and so was the floor, hidden under an opulent plush rug. The bed he lay upon was sturdy and large, with a mattress so soft that it seemed like a cloud, and pristine white sheets covering it.
There were several pieces of luxurious furniture in the room, a pile of bright sitting pillows on the floor, a tray with succulent fruit on an intricate wooden table, and a large window on one of the walls, opening onto a breathtaking view of the boundless blue sky.
Despite the lavish decor, the room… felt familiar, somehow.
Sunny frowned.
'Wait a minute…'
Wasnt' there a room just like this, but far more dilapidated and empty, on the ancient flying ship the Fire Keepers had repaired?
Suddenly, something clicked in his mind, and his vertical pupils narrowed.
'Noctis! That lying crook!'
Sunny was back onboard the magnificent sky vessel that had a beautiful tree growing around its mast… only that vessel had not been shattered and wrecked, then recovered and restored by Cassie's cohort yet.
It was still owned by its original captain — the great and powerful Sorcerer of the East, Noctis.
He must have picked Sunny up after the battle with the black steed and kept his promise, fashioning a new heart for the shadow demon's body, and even replacing the fingers Sunny had lost while trying to learn how to weave.
Which was very nice of him.
…But didn't mean that Sunny would not still enjoy ripping the bastard limb from limb!
'That lying sack of monster crap! Spend the night in the fortress, Sunless… what's the worst that could happen, Sunless! I'm going to strangle him!'
Sunny growled hatefully and clenched his fists, almost slicing his own skin apart with the claws. He was full of resentment, fury, and vengeful wrath…
However, after thinking about it for a few moments, he had to hide his fangs and make a sour face. Yes… the thought of making the deceitful sorcerer squirm felt very nice. But no matter how weak and affable Noctis seemed, he was an immortal Transcended, a Chain Lord of the Kingdom of Hope. Someone whose mere presence was enough to scare a terrifying Corrupted Monster away.
There were far more productive things in life than harboring thoughts of revenge against someone like that.
Besides, there was so much Sunny had to think about instead. The nightmares, the battle with the Shadow stallion, the rewards he had received after emerging victorious from it, his future plans and actions…
Sadly, he did not receive an opportunity to consider all these important and vital things.
As if summoned by Sunny thinking of his name, the damned sorcerer suddenly opened the door and entered the room, whistling a jolly tune under his nose.
Noctis was just as Sunny remembered him — carefree, pleasantly likable, and dressed in extravagantly colorful silk garments. His raven-black hair was immaculate and lustrous, and his beautiful grey eyes sparkled with jovial light.
Noctis saw the four-armed demon, and smiled brightly.
"Ah, Sunless! You're finally awake!"
Sunny stared at him, the corner of his eyes twitching.
'...Bastard. You have the audacity to smile at me after sending me to that hell?!'
He hesitated, then let out a low growl as a greeting.
Come to think of it... what, exactly, was the sorcerer planning to do with him now?
A vague memory of one of the nightmares suddenly entered his mind, one where he had been turned into an obedient wooden doll by a… by a… who had it been?
Sunny suddenly shivered.
Noctis continued to smile, and then said in a strange voice:
"Well then, since you're up… why don't you come with me, huh, Sunless?"
Sunny gulped.
Somehow, he felt that this invitation was not really something he could refuse…
Chapter 646: Familiar Sights
Thinking that it was unwise to refuse the immortal sorcerer, Sunny rose from the bed and hesitated for a moment, noticing that he was completely naked. Numerous wounds that he had received in the Red Colosseum and later, in the battle with the black steed, had turned his grey skin into a map of scars, with lean muscles rolling under it like mountain chains.
Noctis gave him a funny look, then cleared his throat and pointed to a chair that had a black kimono hanging on its backrest. The garment was made out of silk, intricately stitched, and fit his towering figure perfectly. It even had four sleeves instead of two, revealing that someone must have sewn the thing specifically for him.
Feeling the cool caress of the soft fabric on his rough skin, Sunny covered his nakedness, fastened the belt around his waist, and then put on a pair of leather sandals.
Feeling somewhat like a proper human again… or rather, a proper demon… he then tied his wild black hair with a black ribbon and followed Noctis out of the room.
As they walked to the upper deck, the sorcerer couldn't help but throw glances at him, mumbling some nonsense in a barely audible voice:
"...wonderful… marvelous! My complexion is, without a doubt, the fairest there is in the Kingdom of Hope, but alas, black doesn't suit me at all. I won't be caught dead wearing black. Or alive, really. But this is just perfect! Finally, someone to do justice to this Night Silk I bought! It must be fate, indeed, no doubt about it…"
Sunny stared at the immortal Transcendent with a concerned scowl on his face.
The man was clearly a raving lunatic. Another one…
'Why the hell is everyone in this damned Nightmare insane?'
They walked onto the upper deck of the flying ship, where Sunny saw a somewhat familiar picture. There was a beautiful tree growing around the main mast, with the middle of the vessel drowning in the cool shade of its wide branches. The bark of the tree was ivory white, and its leaves were vibrant emerald in color.
The difference with how the flying ship had been in the future was that the original tree he was staring at right now was much taller, stronger, more robust… ancient.
Now that he had witnessed the consecrated grove of Heart God, Sunny easily recognized its origin.
...He also shuddered, remembering the nightmare in which he was reborn as an old man. That one… that one was perhaps the most terrible of them all. Mostly because it reminded him of his own past, his own mother. His own loss.
Noticing a subtle shift in the expression of the sullen demon and misunderstanding it, Noctis smiled proudly.
"Ah, yes. She's a real beauty! This noble ship is the last of her kind. An original! All those flying buckets the rest of them use are just crude imitations."
He patted the bark of the sacred tree in passing and continued forward, heading for the bow of the ship.
"You are probably too young to remember, Sunless, but a long time ago, the Sky Below was full of divine flame. Back then, there were fearless daredevils who dove down into the ocean of immolating fire to harvest some of it. This is the last remaining vessel of their fleet."
The sorcerer smiled.
"All the rest were turned to ash, along with their crews. Even the memory of them is long gone. Shame… those guys were really something, the Fire Hunters. A fun crowd. Not very bright, though, which was how I got my hands on this beauty. Won her in a game of cards, and made some improvements."
He laughed.
"I am the best player in all of the Kingdom of Hope, you know! I even won that obsidian knife you carry once, from the One in the North. Oh, you should have seen her face when she had to give me the prize! That was back when she cared about such stuff, of course."
Sunny blinked and stared at the sorcerer, dumbfounded.
'No… no way. He won one of the seven knives playing cards? The seven knives created by Sun God?!'
Noctis glanced at him and winked.
"Ah, yes, the rest of the Lords had the exact same expression you do right now. They were very angry with us two. It was a giant mess. Uh… I sort of lost that knife later on, though, so they mellowed out."
He grew silent for a bit, and then added, his voice a little darker:
"But these knives… they never really stay lost for long, you know. It's really, really hard to get rid of one. Impossible, in fact."
They continued forward in silence. Disturbed, Sunny turned away and looked over the railing of the flying ship.
It seemed that Noctis had not moved the vessel away from the deserted island where the battle between Sunny and the black stallion had ended. It was still below, empty except for a few jagged rocks laying here and there.
The only difference was that, now, there were beautiful white flowers growing from the soil where the drops of the lonesome steed's blood had fallen on it.
'A giant mess…'
Sunny knew that there were seven immortals created by the Lord of Light to guard — or rather, contain — Hope. Their strings were torn out of the tapestry of fate, made to loop endlessly onto themselves, and placed into seven strange knives. And so, the knives were both what made the Chain Lords eternal, and the only thing that could kill them.
Each of Hope's wardens was entrusted with the key to another's death. This was what kept the balance between them… so, of course Noctis had made a huge mess by managing to get his hands on a second one. No wonder the other Lords were angry.
Even though losing one of the knives was something only a complete idiot would do, in this instance, the sorcerer had been lucky to somehow manage such a feat. Otherwise, he might have found himself in hot water… or molten steel…
Sunny shuddered and closed his eyes for a moment.
Finally, they reached the bow of the ship and descended a set of stairs, eventually stopping in front of a heavily reinforced door that looked faintly familiar. Noctis unlocked the door, and invited Sunny inside.
There, Sunny saw armored walls, a high ceiling, and three chests standing in the center of the room.
Staring at one of them in particular, he suddenly paled terribly and took an involuntary step back.
Noctis glanced at him with confusion, then shook his head.
"You are very strange! Don't be afraid, these are just my treasure chests. They won't bite."
He thought for a second, and then gave one of the chests a playful kick.
"Well... except for this one. This one will eat you alive..."
Chapter 647: Two Answers
Sunny stared at the painfully familiar chest, his black eyes full of fright and venomous resentment. Of course, he had recognized it instantly. It was his old nemesis, the Mordant Mimic… the vile creature that had almost eaten him alive once, in the distant future.
Granted, he had ended up being the one to feast on the flesh of the abomination, instead. Which had been a traumatic experience in and of itself.
But who was to say that he would be able to kill the Fallen Devil again? Sure, Sunny was much stronger and more experienced now. He had more cores, thousands more shadow fragments reinforcing them, much better equipment, and inhabited the body of an actual demon. But there was also no Crushing in this era to help him hold the creature down while the Broken Oath did its job.
Thankfully, the bastard seemed to be behaving itself, maybe out of fear of its master. Actually…
Sunny looked closer and frowned, noticing that the chest had only three soul cores, none showing any sign of Corruption. They were bright and pristine, just like that of any other creature following the path of Ascension. However, they were also too dim to be of the Ascended Rank.
The Mimic was neither Fallen nor a Devil yet. It was simply an Awakened Demon masquerading as a treasure chest.
Which was a bit of an improvement, but still didn't really explain why Noctis was using a powerful demon as a piece of furniture.
'I guess the Mimic grew stronger sometime in the future… and was also Corrupted, somehow.'
Sunny relaxed a little, but then his scowl deepened.
While Noctis opened one of the other two chests and started enthusiastically rummaging through it, two thoughts entered Sunny's mind.
One was very simple…
'Coins!'
However, no matter how alluring the image of the miraculous coins was, the second thought took precedence:
'What… the hell?'
Those words Noctis had just said… weren't they mentioned in the description of the Covetous Coffer? Yes, they were! So Sunny was, and had always been, the pale friend mentioned in it?
'Huh?!'
How could the Spell have known that this exact scene would play out, all that time ago? Back then, Sunny had not even known about the existence of the Nightmare Seed in the Ivory Tower, let alone harbored any thoughts of entering it.
There were two possible answers, both of them equally unnerving.
One was that the Nightmare was not, in fact, a recreation of the past. Instead, it was just… just the past. The Spell knew what Noctis was going to say because this conversation had already happened thousands of years ago, and possessed the power to send people back through time.
Sunny wasn't quite ready to believe that, though. Things didn't really add up... if each Nightmare allowed Awakened to travel through time and return to the past, they would have been able to cause changes in the present through their actions. There had not been too many Nightmares conquered since the spell had appeared, but also not that few. Hundreds at least, and maybe even thousands...
So, he was more inclined to consider the other answer.
The second answer had to do with the nature of the Spell and the domain of its alleged creator. Weaver was called the Demon of Fate for a reason, after all. Their mask allowed Sunny to steal a glance at the tapestry of fate, and see the past, the present, and the future of everything, all at the same time. Just one split second of this terrible knowledge had almost driven him insane.
Perhaps the Spell, which was woven out of those very strings of fate, was able to perceive the depths of the tapestry as well, and hence knew that it was Sunny's fate to enter the Nightmare, meet Noctis, and have this conversation in the treasury of the flying ship.
...That possibility was, perhaps, even more frightening.
'Damnation, my head hurts.'
The mystery of the seemingly innocuous description of the Covetous Coffer had turned out to hold a key to a very important piece of the grand puzzle, one that was too important to be considered hastily. The whole nature of the world as Sunny knew it could be changed entirely depending on which answer was true. He was going to have to think about it more, and later, in excruciating detail.
And speaking of excruciating…
Sunny lingered, then glanced at Noctis, suddenly remembering all the torment he had gone through because of that shameless crook. He gritted his teeth, thinking of all the ways he would have made the bastard pay, if he could…
The crook in question, meanwhile, smiled widely as he pulled a sparkling emerald medallion out of the chest and threw it to Sunny.
"Aha! There you are... here, catch!"
Sunny caught the medallion and studied it with a dubious expression. There seemed to be an almost invisible, intricate string of runes carved into the precious stone...
"What is this crook planning now, I wonder? Ah, I wish I could rip his flimsy body into tiny pieces, and listen to him scream. I would have started with the fingers, I think, and worked my way up. One little piece at a time…"
Noctis stared at him with a strange expression, his face frozen.
Sunny frowned.
"Why is that idiot staring at me? Gods, what a lunatic. Huh? Wait a moment…"
He blinked.
"Why does it sound as if I'm speaking aloud? Damn, am I going crazy as well? Crazier, I mean."
The sorcerer cleared his throat, then cautiously hid his hands behind his back.
"Uh… yeah. That emerald trinket you are holding is a very rare and precious magical amulet. It can project someone's thoughts outward and vocalize them, turning thought into sound. So, uh… do stay away from my fingers, please. I am quite attached to them... unlike some people!"
Sunny paled.
"What?! No! He heard all that! Wait, crap… he heard that, too!"
He shuddered and hurriedly dropped the emerald amulet to the floor, then stared at it in abject horror.
Noctis smiled.
"Oh, Sunless… don't fret, my friend! I know it was just a bit of friendly teasing. I've heard way worse, anyway. You are actually a very restrained individual, as far as demons go."
He bent down, picked up the amulet, and offered it to Sunny with an innocent grin.
"So… how about we have a hearty meal and talk? There's so much we must speak about…"
Chapter 648: With Good Intentions
A few minutes later, Sunny was staring at a table full of all kinds of delicious food. The table was situated on the upper deck of the flying ship, allowing for a breathtaking view of the shattered Kingdom of Hope below.
Being that high up in the sky, he couldn't help but feel a deep sense of discomfort. The fear of the Crushing was already deeply ingrained into his bones… however, the terrible curse that dictated the lives of everyone on the Chained Isles did not exist yet. He had nothing to worry about.
Or rather, he did not have to worry about that particular danger. There were plenty of other existential threats surrounding him, however.
The food had been served by obedient wooden dolls wearing tasteful silk liveries. Sunny was pretty sure that each of the animated mannequins had been a living creature once, their souls torn from their bodies and placed into the dolls by the person sitting across from him.
Taking a sip of a cooled wine, the person in question smiled brilliantly and gestured at the food.
"Come, Sunless! Enjoy."
Sunny hesitated for a bit, then reached out to put a few portions of several mouth-watering dishes onto his plate. He was careful not to touch the emerald amulet that lay in front of him, knowing that doing so would reveal all his thoughts to the damned sorcerer.
That thing… was maybe the greatest danger he faced. While the ability to communicate with people was something he had been thinking about from the first day of entering the Nightmare, sharing his every thought was not something Sunny was ready to deal with yet.
His Flaw had been constraining what he was able to say for a long time now, so his mind was a kind of safe haven for Sunny. For that reason, he had developed a tendency to run wild with his thoughts… revealing them all to a mad sorcerer was not a very great idea.
Noctis watched him eat with a carefree smile, then said in a friendly tone:
"By the way, great job killing that nasty horse! What a feat! What a gallant deed! Truly, vanquishing it was an exploit worthy of being sung about. But, Sunless…"
The sorcerer hesitated for a moment, then leaned forward and asked with a bit of exasperated desperation in his voice:
"Please tell me, why... why, for the love of the gods, did you kill the horse?!"
Sunny, who was taking a sip of cold water, spat it all out.
Coughing, he stared at Noctis with murderous fury burning in his bestial black eyes, then ground his fangs and put his palm on the emerald amulet.
"...What the hell do you mean, why did I kill the horse?! You were the one who sent me into his damned lair! The horse was this close to becoming the end of me, what else was I supposed to do?!"
Then, he clenched his four fists and growled.
"The nerve of this bastard!"
Sunny, of course, meant for that last thought to remain unsaid, but sadly, one of his fists was still touching the enchanted amulet.
Noctis looked at him, blinked a few times, and then flung his hands into the air.
"I never meant for you to fight it! Do I look like an idiot? That horse destroyed hundreds of creatures much scarier than you, why would I send a mere demon to battle it?!"
Sunny opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. Finally, he hissed:
"Yes. I don't know. Why did you send me into the fortress?"
The sorcerer gulped down his of wine, remained silent for a bit, then let out a bitter sigh.
"Oh, well… you know… I just thought that since you are both shadow creatures, it might have liked you. Didn't you know each other back when your master was still around?"
Sunny looked at the beautiful immortal for a few moments, then trembled slightly and covered his face with two hands.
'That damn fool…'
This time, he was careful to not touch the amulet while thinking that.
The worst part of all of it… was that Noctis was not entirely unfounded in thinking that the black steed would not attack Sunny. The body he was currently inhabiting had, indeed, been acquainted with the stallion centuries ago, back when their Lord had been alive.
The problem was that Sunny had replaced the four-armed demon, and thus had no memory of knowing the black courser, while the courser himself had gone mad during the hundreds of years of solitude and only recognized his old companion seconds before death, when his madness receded for a few short moments.
So, all that horror, all the pain and torment he had gone through in the nightmares… was the result of a tragic and cruel twist of fate. It was just a series of wicked and disastrous coincidences, nothing more, and nothing less.
Sunny let out a low growl.
'...Forget it. It doesn't matter, anyway. Not now, and not anymore. The important part is… Noctis might look like an eccentric idiot, but he is anything but. If he wanted me to reunite with Shadow Lord's steed, there was a reason for that. What does he really want?'
He hesitated, then placed his hand back onto the amulet.
"...Why did you want me to meet that thing?"
The sorcerer remained silent for a bit, then smiled charmingly.
"Oh, right. By any chance… before you killed it… has Nightmare shared anything with you? The location of a certain glass knife, for example?"
Sunny snorted.
"Ah. So that's what all of this is about."
He took a bite out of a loaf of delicious freshly baked bread, chewed it unhurriedly, thinking about nothing at all, and then responded in a calm tone:
"Sure, there is something that I learned. Why?"
Noctis cleared his throat, glanced at the scenery, then back at Sunny. Finally, he said with a bit of visibly forced indifference.
"Oh? Well… would you mind sharing?"
Sunny stared at him for a bit, then grinned.
…With his bestial face and two rows of sharp fangs, that grin looked truly frightening.
"Would I mind, huh? That depends. Why do you want that knife?"
Noctis smiled with his usual carefree attitude, then waved his hand dismissively.
"Ah, it's nothing much. A small thing, really… you see, I just want to gather the knives, start a war against both the Ivory City and the Red Colosseum, kill all of the Chain Lords, defy the Lord of Light, break the will of gods, and release the Demon of Desire out of her prison. And then maybe have a cup of tea.
The sorcerer grew silent for a moment, and then added thoughtfully:
"Actually, on second thought, maybe I'll have the tea first…"
Chapter 649: Kingdom of Madness
Sunny stared at the immortal sorcerer, stunned by those words. The scale and scope of the bloodshed and adversity Noctis was striving for were… were simply beyond comprehension. And yet, he had confessed this terrible desire with the same carefree, nonchalant, jovial attitude… as though he was indeed talking about brewing tea instead of waging war on four deathless Saints and their armies.
Sunny remembered the first time he saw Noctis… bloodied, crestfallen, sitting motionlessly in front of the fire with a diamond sickle laying at his feet, its blade marred with crimson.
A grim and somber thought formed in his mind all by itself:
"Insane… you are insane. All of you are…"
He flinched, then removed his trembling hand from the emerald amulet.
Noctis threw his head back and laughed, as if he heard the funniest joke in the world. The silent sailor dolls stood around him, motionless, staring into emptiness with their crudely carved eyes. The scene that was strange and fantastical a few moments ago suddenly seemed threatening and eerie.
After a while, the sorcerer grew quiet, then glanced at Sunny with a mischievous smile and asked:
"Yes, indeed. I could not have said it better myself. All of us are insane. But don't… don't you get it yet, Sunless? Don't you understand why?"
Sunny frowned, then shook his head.
'What the hell is he trying to say?'
How was he supposed to know why everyone in this damned Nightmare seemed completely mad…
And then, something moved in his mind. A seed of a thought… a nascent hint of understanding.
His pupils narrowed slightly.
There was something... strange about the Kingdom of Hope. He had first sensed it after escaping the Red Colosseum and facing Solvane, that beautiful and utterly demented fiend… her actions made a perverse, and yet perfect sense. But there was still something wrong about her.
Back then, he had felt a vague suspicion. Something seemed out of place, something didn't make sense. And after, when he had been thrust into the neverending nightmares, this feeling only grew stronger. He just had no time to think about it.
Everyone here seemed slightly… or greatly… off. Every emotion was sharper and cut deeper, every vice or virtue grew out of control until it turned into a destructive obsession. He had experienced it all, lived through all of it in the nightmares over and over again.
Pain, sorrow, tragedy... madness.
Even Sunny himself was affected by this insidious strangeness. His single-minded obsession with learning how to weave, the sudden intensity of his affection toward Elyas, the subsequent crushing heartbreak over the young man's death, the unquenching hatred he had felt for the black steed… all of those things were not exactly out of his character, but slightly more consuming than they should have been.
Remembering the past few months, Sunny shivered.
'Wait… wait…'
Feverishly, he tried to recall all he knew about this Nightmare. The seven knives, the seven immortals… a thousand years of solemn duty… the terrible torture one of the rules of the Ivory City had been subjected to by his own brother… the destruction of the Sacred Grove… the Shadow Lord making a choice to take a coward's way out before, before…
Before what?
Suddenly, an expression of shocked understanding appeared on Sunny's face.
He looked at Noctis for a while, and then cautiously picked up the emerald amulet. A single word formed in his mind:
"Hope?"
The sorcerer smiled, then nodded and looked at the vast expanse of the shattered kingdom below them.
"...Indeed. Hope."
Noctis took a sip of wine, the smile disappearing from his face. A few moments later, he said indifferently:
"The Lord of Light bound Hope with seven brilliant shackles, and made those shackles eternal. That was us… me and the rest of the Chain Lords. He entrusted each of us with the fate of another, and a solemn duty to never let the Demon escape. And, for a few centuries, everything was fine…"
His face grew dark and cold. The sorcerer remained silent for a while, and then continued:
"But slowly, we grew tired. Doubt found its way into our hearts. Eternity… eternity is a heavy burden, Sunless. And under its weight, unnoticed, one of us grew twisted. So, another one made a choice to uproot the corruption… that was how the first of the Chain Lords died. Aidre, my dear friend… murdered by that wicked slayer, Solvane, her beautiful grove burned to the ground."
Noctis remained motionless, but the wooden mannequins surrounding them suddenly clenched their fists, their fingers splintering from the immense pressure. Their crude faces did not move, but Sunny could feel an almost palpable feeling of fury radiating from their figures.
The sorcerer sighed.
"...And so, all of our fates were sealed. Yes, six shackles still remained. But Hope's prison wasn't perfect anymore. Her will, her insidious influence sipped out, little by little, infecting us all… slowly devouring the whole kingdom, every living being in it, from the smallest insect to the mightiest immortal, igniting our desires, twisting them, changing us into something different. Something terrible, rampant, and vile."
He laughed.
"Oh! Of course, none of us noticed it for a long, long time. Hundreds of years, even. Maybe only Shadow… and by the time the rest of us understood, at least those who were still sane enough, it was already too late. The whole of the Kingdom of Hope had been driven mad by its former ruler. Had been turned into a vicious hell. We were all taken by Hope."
Noctis smiled and sipped his wine, then chuckled.
"So, yeah, Sunless. All of us here are insane… I thought you would have known already, judging by the scars covering your body. The Warmongers are all insane, and so is their leader, Solvane. The citizens of the Ivory City are also mad, just as their two rulers are. The One in the North is perhaps the craziest of us all. Well… except for me, of course! I am the maddest person in all of the Kingdom of Hope, I would have you know."
Sunny stared at the gleefully smiling sorcerer, suddenly overwhelmed by terror.
"That damned Seed… that damned Mordret! Curse the day he told me about how rare and precious it is!"
The sorcerer chuckled.
"Uh… well, I don't know who Mordret, and what seed you are talking about. However, there is one thing I do know. Actually, it's a question. That question… it has been tormenting me for centuries, Sunless. Do you know what that question is? What was the seed of my personal madness?"
Sunny frowned, then slowly shook his head.
Noctis lingered for a few moments, then looked away and said with a wistful smile:
"That is a question Aidre asked me, a long time ago. You see… if the Lord of Light wanted the seven of us to keep Hope imprisoned, forever…"
His smile widened slightly, then suddenly dimmed.
"...Then why did he give each of us a key to her freedom?"