Shadow Slave

1020 The Fall of Falcon Scott (38)

Sunny had never even thought about using that deadly enchantment after the first time. Back then, moments before falling into the Sky Below, he had activated it out of sheer desperation.

His gamble had paid off, but it almost cost him his life.

[Where is my eye?) allowed the wearer of the mask to gaze upon the tapestry of fate in all its harrowing glory. The endless, beautiful eternity of twisting threads transfixed all existence, stretching infinitely in every direction, as well as into the past, present, and future. It connected everyone and everything like an inconceivable, unknowable web.

Weaver might have been capable of witnessing the great tapestry... but mere mortals like Sunny were not.

A single moment of looking at fate had almost caused his mind to collapse. If his essence had not run out after that single moment, he would certainly have been killed, his head exploding in the most violent fashion. Luckily, he had gotten off easy by only experiencing unimaginable pain and pure agony, the memory of which still made him shudder.

...The Terror was very welcome to try doing the same.

As the last of Sunny's essence was disappearing, causing him to experience painful backlash, the inconceivable sight of the great tapestry of fate superimposed itself through and above the world. It was as stunning, breathtaking, and utterly overwhelming as he had remembered... however, funnily enough, Sunny saw the beautiful threads differently this time.

To him, they seemed like nothing but chains now.

Granted, he did not linger trying to look, only catching a small glimpse of the cosmic tapestry. Prepared for what was to come, Sunny used a little, but rather devious trick.

His consciousness was still split between reality and the illusion of the endless expanse of billowing white silk that the Terror had created to mesmerize its prey. So, Sunny made himself blind to the actual world, concentrating entirely on the illusory realm of pure whiteness.

That was why the Terror, who had almost stolen his body and was now looking upon the world through his eyes, was the only one to gaze upon the harrowing infinity.

Sunny felt the white silk enveloping him quiver, as if the pallid blossom was convulsing.

Even though his head was full of splitting pain because of that one short glimpse of the Strings of Fate, his weak smile finally turned into a real grin.

'...Look well, wretch."

A split second later, his essence ran dry, and the deadly enchantment deactivated. The tapestry of fate disappeared, and Sunny suddenly found himself freed from the alien presence devouring his mind... or rather, it was still there, but now stunned and writhing in pain.

The physical binding of white silk that wrapped his body had come a little loose, as well.

Not wasting a single moment, Sunny used that slack to thrust his hand forward. The tip of the Sin of Solace pierced the wall of the cloth prison, and then moved upward, cutting a vertical rift in it.

A second later, he sliced the white petal open and burst into the dark water, incredibly happy to be in the oppressive embrace of the dark ocean once again.

Sunny hastily studied his surroundings, knowing that he did not have much time.

Witnessing the tapestry of fate had not killed him as an Awakened Monster, so he doubted that it would kill a Corrupted Terror — if that was truly what the dreadful flower of silk was. In any case, the creature would most likely not stay stunned for too long.

Currently, the pallid blossom seemed to be seizing, its petals contorting in grotesque convulsions. The graceful harmony of their eerily beautiful dance had been broken, replaced instead by chaotic and jittery movements devoid of any logic.

The thralls appeared to be pained and disoriented, too.

Looking at the agony consuming the abominable creature, Sunny became even more convinced that fate was something that only gods were meant to see... or maybe no one at all. If even a Corrupted abomination of great and terrible power was reduced to a convulsing mess, what hope did mere humans have of withstanding the sight of eternity?

Shrugging off his own pain, Sunny glanced briefly at Naeve and Bloodwave. They seemed to be showing signs of life, but had not even begun trying to free themselves yet. Chances were, the Terror would come to its senses before they ever could.

He had to finish the battle himself.

Gripping the hilt of the Sin of Solace, Sunny propelled himself forward. He fought against the weakness that had been left behind by draining all of his essence, pushing his body through the water as fast as he could.

The Nimble Catch had turned into a useless piece of net, its active enchantment silent. Luckily, the enchantment of the Essence Pearl was a passive one, so he could still breathe.

His muscles and his lungs were burning by the time he reached the white flower. It had only been a dozen seconds or so, but the convulsions of the billowing petals were already growing weaker.

Feeling cold terror grasp his heart, Sunny gritted his teeth and dove into the mass of white silk.

His goal was the small shape hidden in the center of the petals.

Swimming between the dancing swathes of white cloth, Sunny could not shake the feeling that he would be caught again at any moment. That his mind would be devoured, and his will would be replaced by something alien and vile.

Nevertheless, he pushed forward.

After an eternity of fear, he finally reached the heart of the pallid blossom.

And there, he saw...

Sunny froze for a moment.

In front of him was a shape wrapped in white silk. He could see the vague contours of a human body, desiccated and short in stature. It was feminine and small, almost delicate. Pressed tightly against the wrappings, a hint of a face could be discerned... two hollow pits where eyes should have been, and a larger one of a mouth that seemed to be open in a silent, eternal scream.

A cold understanding suddenly dawned on him. Looking at the expanse of white cloth extending from the wrapped body, he realized that what he had thought to be a flower was not a flower at all... it was simply a great burial shroud of white silk, its sleeves and draping drifting in the cold dark water.

Sunny lingered only for a split second, then grabbed onto the desiccated body, coming face to face with it, and drove his sword through its heart.

A strange, sorrowful sensation overwhelmed him for a moment.

Then, the white cloth around Sunny suddenly exploded with frenetic motion, and soon grew still.

In the silence that followed, the Spell whispered solemnly into his ear:

[You have slain a Corrupted Terror...]