Shadow Slave

Sunny was off to face against a Nightmare Creature. And not any creature, at that, but one of the fifth category — a dreaded, fearsome tyrant. The odds of survival were so low that anyone would have laughed in his face if he were to ever suggest attempting to fight it. If they weren’t an Awakened two or three ranks above the creature, of course.

Which Sunny certainly wasn’t.

And yet, he had to deal with this Mountain King somehow to avoid an even more miserable death. The ridiculous degree to which the odds were stacked against him from the very beginning of this delayed execution had gotten old a long time ago, so he didn’t have any more energy to think about it. What was there to fear, after all? He was already as good as dead. It’s not like he could get any deader.

So why worry?

On the other side of the bonfire, things were turning from bad to worse. Most of the slaves were already dead. A few soldiers were still desperately trying to fight the monster, but it was clear that they weren’t going to last long. Right in front of Sunny’s eyes, the tyrant picked up a dead slave, dragging the chain up with him, and opened its terrifying maw wide. With one crushing bite, the slave’s body was torn in half, leaving only bloodied stumps inside the shackles.

Mountain King’s five indifferent, milky eyes stared into the distance as he chewed, streams of blood flowing down its chin.

Seeing that the creature’s upper arms were busy, one of the soldiers screamed and lunged forward, brandishing his long spear. Without turning its head, the tyrant extended one of its shorter lower arms, caught the soldier’s head in an iron grip and squeezed, crushing the poor man’s skull like a soap bubble. A moment later, the headless body was tossed over the cliff and disappeared into the abyss below.

Shifty doubled over, puking his guts out. Then he shakily rose to his feet and glared at Sunny.

“Well? We’ve taken a look, now what?”

Sunny did not answer, pensively observing the tyrant with his head slightly tilted to one side. Shifty stared at him some more, then turned to Scholar.

“I’m telling you, old man, the boy is sick in the head. How the hell can he be so calm?!”

“Shhhh! Lower your voice, fool!”

Blood drained from Shifty’s face as he slapped himself, covering his mouth with both hands. Then he cast a fearful look in the direction of the tyrant.

Luckily, the abomination was too busy feasting on the slaves — lucky ones who were already dead and unlucky ones who were still alive — to pay them any attention. Shifty slowly exhaled.

Sunny was preoccupied with thinking, measuring his chances of survival.

‘How do I get rid of that thing?’

He didn’t have any special powers, nor did he have an army ready to bury the tyrant under a mountain of bodies. He didn’t even have a weapon to at least scratch the damn bastard.

gaze and looked past the creature, into the endless darkness of the moonless sky. As he was watching the night, a bright flash streaked in the air and collided with one of the tyrant’s arms, bursting into a rain of sparks. The young soldier —

“Face me, devil!”

Just what

the Mountain King with his own two hands, he had decided to enlist some help. A human wouldn’t be up to the task, so instead, he was planning

do the bastard in myself,

when the young hero’s foolish bravado presented an opportunity. Now everything depended on how long

started running toward the far end of the stone platform, where the heavy wagon was perched dangerously close to the

confidence, or maybe divine inspiration. After all, it was a widely known fact that crazy people were

the dirty fur, not living even a scratch on the creature’s flash. In the next second, the tyrant moved

the wagon. Once there, he hurriedly looked around, checking if there were

its front facing the mountain wall and its back facing the cliff. There were two large wooden wedges placed under the rear wheels to prevent the wagon from rolling backward.

I tell you, remove both of them. Then push.

“What? Why?”

expression on his face. Scholar just looked at the

weaving between the creature’s limbs, always just half a second away from being completely eviscerated. From time to time, his sword flashed in the air, but to no avail: Mountain King’s fur was too thick, and his skin too tough to be harmed by mundane weapons. There was a hint of apprehension on the

as far as Sunny could see, were already dead. So he really

die yet!’

he simply

“You’ll see.”

again, trying to follow the chain from the brace where it was affixed to the wagon. The thing he was searching for was hard to notice due to all the bodies, blood and viscera littering the stone platform, but for once, luck was on his side. A short amount of time later, he had found what he needed — the

the nearest set of shackles, complete with a horribly disfigured body of a slave locked in them, Sunny plopped down on his knees and started to

the air, finally caught by one of the tyrant’s strikes. Incredibly, the young soldier managed to land on his feet, sliding several meters across the stones. All of his limbs were still in place; there were no terrible wounds on his body, either. Without skipping a bit, Hero rolled forward, picking up his sword from where it fell on the ground, and

Who the hell rolls

them, he then

on his resolve,

to Shifty and Scholar, who were still

“Now!”

length of chain, Sunny

a glance. His eyes lingered on the chain for a moment and then quickly followed it to the wagon. Then,

too? What a