Sunny watched as the wall of shadows collapsed beneath the scythe of the dark entity. He narrowly dodged a horizontal slash aimed at his neck, rolled across the ground, and landed on his feet with feline grace.
He was now far enough away not to worry about an immediate attack.
In the distance, the sounds of other battles thundered on. At some point, he and Nephis had been separated. Thankfully, she had stayed with Saint — the two of them now faced off against three of the true darkness hunters.
Unfortunately for him, he had ended up with the scythe-wielding girl... and the two archers.
The result?
Well, for someone who was nearly impossible to make bleed thanks to Blood Weave, the black sand around him had turned a deep crimson.
Several arrow wounds marked his body. If not for his unnaturally resilient bones, one of those arrows might have ripped his entire arm off.
Despite the protection of his Marble Shell, bruises had begun to bloom beneath his skin — some of them ugly enough to make him wince.
And his ribs... felt like they'd been pounded by a celestial hammer. For someone who had once been gutted alive, that was almost a compliment to his enemies.
He had been outnumbered.
The archers were lethal, forcing him to do something he didn't like: summon Nightmare and Fiend to distract them.
Nightmare, after all, was just an Ascended Terror — much weaker than the corrupted demons. He didn't want to risk the stallion unless absolutely necessary... but if he didn't, he would probably end up dead.
The same went for Fiend.
They were his least reliable cards. But he had no choice.
Still, the real problem he faced wasn't physical.
It was a dull ache in his chest, not from a wound or exhaustion—
But from a feeling.
A strange sense that had been gnawing at him ever since the battle split.
Why?
He had a theory.
A foolish idea, maybe. But persistent.
Two figures of true darkness with feminine shapes. One wielding a spear, the other a scythe.
Two others with swords.
And though he hadn't seen the archers clearly...
Effie, Kai, Jet, Cassie... and Nephis.
The formation wasn't hard to recognize. It was eerily familiar.
And yes, maybe it was just a coincidence. Among Ascended, it wasn't uncommon to find such team dynamics.
Besides, one of the archers —the one he hadn't gotten a look at— didn't match anyone from the cohort. Not Mordret. Not himself.
So, with a mental sigh, he dismissed the theory.
Five twisted reflections of people he cared about... and a sixth that didn't fit?
Besides, Nephis was incorruptible. Of all people in the world, she was the least likely to become a Nightmare creature.
Then why was it that the more he fought, the stronger the feeling became?
That strange, almost emotional pang — as if his own shadow was trying to tell him something.
As if the darkness wasn't just attacking him...
But remembering.
There was no time to dwell on it. This was a life-and-death fight.
His onyx eyes —dark and deep as an abyss— fixed on the creature of darkness before him.
The only sound breaking the forest's stillness was one of the worst imaginable: the cold, metallic echo of steel striking a nightmare's flesh. In the distance, Nephis was waging her own war, surrounded by a storm of white fire.
And then he heard it.
That sound... it wasn't a shriek, nor a hiss, nor the whistle of an arrow. It was something else entirely. Something subtler, and infinitely more unsettling. It was the quiet lament of something beautiful being destroyed. Like the sound a lavender flower would make if you cut it at the height of its bloom — when its fragrance had yet to escape, and its soul still lingered in the petals.
And Sunny attacked.
Sins of Solace —his jade-green blade— glowed in his hand. The edge, translucent and sharp, shimmered with a warm gleam in the dark. Like a silent beacon daring to challenge the night.
His target was clear.
A wall of shadow rose between him and the entity. Not to block, but to delay — to force hesitation for even a second.
Throughout the battle, Sunny had discovered something.
No matter how many times he cut the corrupted demon, only droplets of darkness spilled out. The creature regenerated without pause. Even the most precise, lethal blows seemed meaningless.
But they weren't.
Every time the creature healed where he'd struck, something inside it weakened. An invisible shift. A tiny fracture in its strength. It was using more than just essence to heal — it was burning something deeper.
Its own core.
A minuscule loss at first... but it was a pattern.
So what? He had to cut it an infinite number of times to finally kill it?
That didn't sound doable...
Especially now that Nephis's flames were slowly dying out. With them, the added surge of power he'd shared through their bond faded.
But worse than that was this:
Without Nephis's light, he was lost.
True darkness creatures were the perfect counter to his Aspect.
Because without light, there could be no shadows. And in absolute darkness, his power unraveled. It was like fighting an enemy from a higher plane.
A battle of attrition. Against an immortal. Outmatched. Exhausted. Alone.
Yeah... he was screwed.
But then, a memory came back.
The Dark City Knight.
His old roommate —well, cellmate— had been a fallen demon, too. Cloaked in true darkness. Nearly impossible to kill. More like a damned warrior than a nightmare.
And he had fallen.
Only when they destroyed his helmet — the core that held what was left of his essence... or his soul.
The creature before him now had no armor.
But the scythe...
Sunny looked at it more closely. The scythe of pure darkness shimmered unnaturally. Not like a weapon bathed in light, but like a lone star shining in a dead sky. A cruel gem suspended in absolute night.
That was it.
He didn't have to destroy the creature.
He had to steal what little still burned with life.
So he had no choice but to bet it all.
His eyes sharpened with a mix of desperation and determination—then he moved.
With the feline agility of an assassin trained by the darkness itself, Sunny appeared behind the knight, using the momentary distraction of the shadow wall. His figure slipped through the air like a living shadow, undetectable until it was far too late.
The vertical slash came down hard, aiming for the enemy's back. But the scythe spun with unnatural speed and intercepted the blow in a clash that rattled Sunny's bones. Pain lanced through his arms—hot and biting. His hands screamed in protest. The enemy... was stronger. Physically, he was being overwhelmed.
Sunny jumped back, rolled across the ground, and rose into a low stance. His breath came in short, ragged bursts. A searing pain radiated across his chest, where a deep wound oozed blood despite the reinforcement of his [Marble Shell]. A broken rib—or several—was a safe bet.
And yet, he smirked.
His essence had run dry long ago. Only the momentum of battle and the lingering warmth of Nephis's flames kept him upright. He knew the moment he stopped moving, he'd collapse like a puppet with its strings cut.
But he still had one last card to play.
Gathering the final spark of energy left in his soul, he channeled his four remaining shadows into [Sin of Solace]. The transcendent sword pulsed in response. Its jade-green blade shimmered with a sickly glow—alive, hungry, and cruel, as if it knew this was the moment it was forged for.
He couldn't win with skill or stamina. Not anymore. If he wanted to survive... he had to bet it all.
The being of darkness advanced, scythe raised, its black blade glowing with a sinister, almost holy light. Sunny drew a breath and emptied his mind. Then he dashed forward, invoking the movements of [Shadow Dance]. He didn't dodge. He didn't block. He attacked—head-on.
From afar, it looked like madness.
The scythe descended like divine punishment, aiming to sever his life in a single stroke. At the last possible moment, Sunny twisted his body and jumped with everything he had. The blade tore into his chest, splitting flesh and muscle, coming dangerously close to his eye. Pain exploded across his nerves. His vision flickered.
But he had found the opening.
From above, gravity became his ally. With all his strength, all his will, and all his essence, he brought the blade down—not on the enemy.
On the weapon.
The enemy raised the scythe to block him.
The result?
The impact sounded like a muffled thunderclap. The blade of [Sin of Solace], drenched in corrupted light and shadow, struck the weapon forged from true darkness.
For a heartbeat—nothing happened.
Then, cracks appeared.
Like veins of frozen lightning, hairline fractures began to spread across the surface of the scythe. The enemy wavered. Its form trembled. And then—
A crystalline sound, like the sorrowful chime of a bell drifting through midnight winds, echoed across the forest.
To Sunny, it was beautiful. Like a melody woven from vengeance, fate, and absolution. The enemy's weapon shattered before him, dissolving into fragments of blackened shadow. The pieces rained down on the dark forest floor like stardust lost to time.
And then he heard the spell's whisper in his mind:
[You have slain a corrupted demon]
He didn't cheer.
He didn't smile.
He thought of one thing.
"Nephis..." he whispered.
He tried to move, but his legs refused to obey. The last wound was worse than he'd realized. His vision blurred. The world spun violently.
He searched for her, straining to see her one more time. But just as he turned his head—
His body gave out.
Sunny collapsed to his knees, then fell forward. His cheek met the warm, dark sand.
And as the world faded, he heard one final, broken echo:
[You have—...]
But he never heard the rest.
Darkness claimed him before the sentence could end.