Shadow Slave - Chapter 2550 Broken Illusion

The Great Mirror was truly enormous, and although the sheet of fabric covering it was thin, it was still incredibly vast and heavy. So, he needed Effie’s herculean strength to pull it off the hidden surface.

They pulled as hard as they could, and the fabric moved — slowly at first, and then faster and faster.

It rippled and fell, slowly revealing the silver surface of the Great Mirror… At that moment, there was another deafening boom, and Saint’s body flew out of the pool of true darkness, trailing drops of blood behind it.

Sunny acted before he knew what he was doing, stepping through the shadows to catch her. He slid a few meters back, holding her petite human form in his arms, and then gently put her on the floor.

A suffocating sense of anger rose in his chest.

‘I’m… glad that this bastard is nearly immortal. He won’t die, so I’ll be able to torture him endlessly…’

The white mist was entirely gone now.

To his left, Effie dashed back to escape the vast black shroud of the falling mirror cover. To his right, Morgan slowly rose from the floor, her scarlet eyes burning with a sharp intent.

Right in front of Sunny, some distance away, Mordret slowly walked out of the darkness. He looked around with an easy smile, then swept the Castellan’s disheveled hair back and looked at his hands.

“What a curious vessel. Its nature is… almost dangerous, I think. Oh, but this won’t do, won’t do at all.”

Suddenly, the figure of the Castellan grew blurry and changed, transforming into Mordret’s own appearance. Reflections were transient beings, after all, capable of changing into anything facing them — Mordret seemed to have mastered that aspect of his new vessel swiftly.

When he turned to Sunny, his amicable smile suddenly felt dark and sinister.

“Now, where were we? Oh, yes. All of you owe me something, and it’s time to collect. Let’s start with eliminating the usurper who had stolen Bastion from me…”

He threw a murderous look at Effie and took a step forward.

But then, his expression changed.

The billowing black shroud finally fell to the floor, revealing the vast expanse of the Great Mirror… and what reflected on it.

Sunny looked up, shivering as a pale smile appeared on his lips.

Out there, on the surface of the Great Mirror…

All of them were reflected clearly — Sunny, Effie, Morgan, Saint, and Mordret. But none of it mattered, because there was another reflection trapped in the colossal mirror, cast by nothing.

A dark figure that towered at a hundred meters height, looming above them all like a nebulous deity. It wore a tattered black mantle, standing with its back to the vast underground chamber… but as the black shroud fell, the figure moved slightly and turned, casting its terrifying gaze at the five mortal ants far below.

Its black wooden mask was snarling fiercely, and there was nothing but darkness nestling in its eyes. Three horns rose above its head like a jagged crown…

‘Weaver.’

It was a reflection that the Demon of Fate had left in the Great Mirror of the Palace of Imagination thousands of years ago.

As Sunny’s eyes gleamed with awe, Effie paled and took a step back. Morgan let out a groan and collapsed to her knees, shutting her eyes and covering them with both hands.

Saint shuddered on the floor.

Mordret remained motionless for a long second and then slowly turned to face the Great Mirror.

“What… what the hell is this…”

He looked up to behold the reflection of Weaver, and as he did, his face became twisted by an expression of utter terror.

Mordret raised a trembling hand, as if trying to hide himself from the daemon’s dreadful gaze…

But he never did.

Because in the next moment, his body simply exploded into a cloud of glass shards, obliterated on the spot by the mere pressure of Weaver’s presence. ‘H—huh…’

Witnessing a daemon’s reflection was already terrible enough. But Mordret had not just seen it… since he possessed a sense that allowed him to perceive reflections, he had no choice but to perceive the reflection of Weaver in all its unfathomable immensity.

And that alone was enough to destroy his vessel, which failed to endure the strain.

The bastard might have even died… although Sunny doubted that very much. Mordret had probably retreated somewhere in terror to hide and lick his wounds.

But Sunny had no time to think about that.
He stared at the reflection of Weaver, entranced, and then took an unconscious step back.

As he did, his own reflection overlapped with the reflection of the Demon of Fate.

And when it did…

The surface of the Great Mirror rippled.

A moment later, only one of the two reflections remained.

Sunny blacked out.

***

A few hours later, Effie and Morgan stood on the wall of the Castle, looking at the turbulent waters of the lake beyond. The rain had finally stopped, and the sky cleared… not that it brought them any relief.

Mirage City was gone, and the sky itself was cracked, slowly crumbling as the ancient illusion crumbled.

The world seemed to be ending…

But the silver moon was still slowly rising into the shattered sky.

“At this speed, this entire place will cease to exist in a few days.”

Morgan turned slightly when she spoke, then nodded.

“…What kind of illusion will you create in its place?”

Effie lingered for a while.

“I am not sure. Something to prepare Awakened for challenging Nightmares, I think? Or for waging large-scale wars against the Nightmare Creatures. We will have to wait and see… I don’t think it will be as elaborate as Mirage City, though. After all, I am not a reflection of a genius storyteller that had existed for thousands of years.”

Morgan nodded again, then looked to the side.

There, the body of the Lord of Shadows was sprawled on the battlements, with Saint standing guard above it. She frowned.

“Why is he still unconscious? And what actually happened there, in front of the Great Mirror?”

Effie looked at Sunny, too, then shrugged.

“Well. He seems to have gobbled up a reflection of the Demon of Fate. Just another Tuesday for him, surely… don’t worry, though, he’ll come around eventually. That guy won’t be brought down by something as frivolous as a sinister daemon.”

Morgan stared at her incredulously for a while, then sighed.

“Well, if you say so… not that I care too much. Anyway, our ticket out of here has arrived.”

She pointed to the lake in front of them, with dark edifices of drowned buildings rising from it like grave stones.

Out there, on the dark surface of the still water, the reflection of the moon was shining with pale silver light.

Effie grimaced.

“So we are swimming again.”

She shook her head dejectedly, then took off her shoes and looked at taciturn Shadow.

“Saint… you do not look so good. Let me carry him.”

Saint seemed to be struggling, indeed. It was not because of the wounds she had received in the battle with Mordret — rather, it was because of the strain of forcefully suppressing her evolution to remain by her master’s side.

Still, instead of letting Effie carry Sunny, she silently leaned down and picked up his unconscious body herself.
Effie smiled.

“Well, alright. In that case…”

With that, she climbed onto the parapet of the castle wall and looked at the distant reflection of the moon.

“Let’s go home.”

***

Somewhere in the Eastern Quadrant, a convoy carrying the refugees to a port city was scattered across the desolate wasteland, with many vehicles overturned or letting out pillars of smoke.

If they had only made it to their destination, they would have been safe. Out there in the waters near the city, the Night Garden was resting on the waves, and everything in its sphere of influence was safe from the horrifying threat of the Skinwalker… for now, at least.

Soon, Soul Reaper and her colossal ship would have to return to the Dream Realm to replenish the Great Citadel’s reserves of essence.

But the convoy had not made it to the destination. Instead, it was ambushed by the vessels of the abomination, and was now nearly destroyed.

People said that the Skinwalker was on the verge of an evolution… maybe they were to become the last sacrifice to fuel its descent into the status of a profane deity.

The survivors had retreated to the head vehicles, desperately trying to fight the vessels of the Skinwalker off. But it was hopeless — they were already surrounded, and the abomination had already taken several of their most powerful warriors.

Now, those warriors were a part of the Skinwalker, helping the other vessels break the resistance of the last group.

“Stay strong! Don’t let them get close! Don’t let them touch you!”
An Ascended officer tried to rally his soldiers, but in the next moment, an arrow pierced his enchanted armor. The Skinwalker had been learning to use human weapons as of late, which only made it more deadly. But now, the vessels of the eerie abominations showed more coordination and discipline than seasoned human troops, washing over the continent like an unstoppable plague.

The Ascended let out a groan and fell to one knee, looking up to see the vessels of the Skinwalker closing in on the group of refugees from all sides. One of them was already right in front of him.

The creature looked like a human… and had been human once… but now, it was impossible to mistake it for a person. Its gaze was too alien now that it had cast away pretenses, too eerie, too dreadful.

The Ascended bit his lip and prepared to end his own life. It was better than becoming one of these creatures, at least.

But then, something strange happened.

The vessel of the Skinwalker flinched, and then shuddered, bending down in a violent contortion. It quaked for a moment or two, then grew still. Something similar was happening to the other vessels, as well, spreading among them like a strange infection.

“W—what…”

Gritting his teeth, the Ascended picked up his sword and staggered back to his feet, preparing to make his last stand.

Then, the vessel of the Skinwalker in front of him straightened and looked around with an aloof expression.

Finally glancing back at the Ascended, it lingered for a moment, and then offered him a friendly smile.

“Ah… the weather is wonderful today, isn’t it? What a day to be alive.”
The stranger chuckled as the rest of the Skinwalker vessels around them fell to the ground, then slowly rose again, all wearing the same smile.

“Off you go, then. Do not fret — I will take it from here. There is nothing to worry about…”

[End of Part II: Mirage City Noir.]

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