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.

in the air and collided with one of the tyrant’s arms, bursting into

“Face me, devil!”

distraction! Just what

way for Sunny to kill 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

do the bastard in myself, let’s make gravity

over the details of the plan when the young hero’s foolish bravado presented an opportunity. Now

running toward the far end of the stone platform, where the heavy wagon was

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

nimbly ducked under the tyrant’s claws, slashing it with the sword. The sharp edge slid ineffectively across the dirty fur, not living even a scratch on the creature’s flash. In the next second, the tyrant moved with frightening speed, throwing all four of his hands in the direction of its new, irritating

his speed, getting closer and closer to the wagon. Once there, he hurriedly looked around, checking if

sideways to block the wind, with 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

you, remove both

“What? Why?”

his face. Scholar just looked at the

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 young

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

die yet!’

Shifty, he simply

“You’ll see.”

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

a horribly disfigured body of a slave locked in them, Sunny plopped down on his knees

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

rolls around in

shackles. Shaking the dead slave out of them, he then promptly locked them once again, this time around the chain itself — ending up with a makeshift

his resolve, hand-to-eye coordination…

Shifty and Scholar, who were still waiting by

“Now!”

up a sizable length of chain, Sunny stood up and

and then quickly followed it to the wagon. Then, without showing a hint of emotion, the young warrior doubled his efforts,

he’s smart, too?