Gunlaug's men were already charging. Despite just waking up, Sunny wasted no time. Rubbing his eyes, he let strings of shadow weave throughout the battlefield, slicing limbs off some and carving deep cuts into others. For those durable enough to withstand the attacks, the shadows slowed them down, allowing his side to unleash a barrage of arrows and long-range assaults. Those who managed to dodge were met head-on by close-range fighters.
It was a one-sided massacre—the outcome completely opposite of what anyone expected.
But then, like a tornado forming in the middle of calm winds, the tides shifted. Gunlaug himself had entered the fray. Sunny shot out strings of shadow at him, but before they could reach their target, someone intercepted, getting wrapped up and crushed to death in place of the golden tyrant. Gunlaug and his personal squad wasted no time. Within minutes, half of Sunny's forces were dead.
Sunny had underestimated him—no, he had overestimated himself. It didn't feel real. In barely half an hour, hundreds of lives were lost at the hands of other humans. That was the reality of war.
"Retr—!"
"DO NOT RETREAT!"
One of the assigned leaders had called for a retreat, but Sunny couldn't allow it. He leapt in front of the survivors, summoning his weapon.
"No matter how many of you die, do not retreat."
He couldn't let them run. If they did, the non-combatants would be slaughtered as well. This "purge" wasn't just about reducing the population—Gunlaug wanted everyone outside those castle walls dead. That's why retreat wasn't an option.
Sunny dashed into the center of the battlefield, using the corpses of Gunlaug's men and his own as cover from long-range attacks. Blood, guts, and chaos painted the field as he made his way toward the golden tyrant. Before he could reach him, Gunlaug's armor melted and a spike shot out, piercing straight into Sunny's stomach.
It was perfect. Grabbing the spike to keep Gunlaug in place, Sunny watched as Effie appeared behind the tyrant, slamming her spear into his back with all her strength. Sadly, even that wasn't enough—it didn't leave a single crack. Gunlaug swung his arm back, sending Effie flying. Her arm twisted unnaturally as she hit the ground.
Still impaled, Sunny summoned the skull memory, splashing sap and oil onto Gunlaug's armor before tearing himself free. Luckily, his stomach was still stone from the battle with the statues, preventing him from bleeding out. Jumping back, he used his aspect on Gunlaug—only to realize something. His aspect targeted two things.
The armor wasn't a memory—it was an echo.
Sunny's stomach shifted, replaced with a golden, reflective metal that was both semi-solid and semi-liquid. Gunlaug's armor, on the other hand, had been exposed—his stomach now bare. In that moment, a red-haired archer loosed an arrow of flame straight at the golden tyrant. With the sap coating his armor and the new gap in his defenses, the arrow pierced Gunlaug's stomach and set his entire body ablaze.
With a feverish grin, Sunny poured the rest of his essence into thousands of shadow strings, forming a cocoon around Gunlaug. The hole in his armor, the burning sap, the trapped flames—everything condensed inside.
Gunlaug was being cooked alive.