Shadow Slaves
Chapter 8: Nothing at All
“Because the monster is not dead.”
These unpleasant words hung in silence. Three pairs of wide-eyed, staring right at Sunny.
“Why did you say that?”
After thinking about it, Sunny came to the conclusion that the tyrant was indeed still alive. The reason was quite easy: he did not hear the Spell congratulating him for killing the creature after falling off a cliff. Which means that it wasn't killed.
But he couldn't explain it to his friends.
He pointed up.
“The monster jumped from an incredible height to land on this platform. But he was not hurt at all. Why was he killed by falling off the platform?”
Neither the Hero nor the slaves could find any flaws in his argument.
continued Sunny.
“That means he's alive, somewhere under the mountain. So by going back, we'll deliver ourselves to his stomach.”
Shifty cursed loudly and crawled closer to the bonfire, staring at the darkness with terror in his eyes. The scholar rubbed his temple, muttering:
“Of course. Why am I not aware of myself?”
Heroes are the most powerful of the three. After thinking about it, he nodded.
“Then we go up and through the mountain pass. But that's not all”
He glanced towards the direction where the tyrant had fallen.
“If the monster is still alive, there is a high chance he will come back here, and then chase after us. Which means time is very important. We should move as soon as the sun rises.”
He pointed to the torn bodies scattered on the platform.
“We can't allow ourselves to rest all night again. We need to collect supplies now. If there is a chance, I want to give these people at least a simple burial after collecting all we can since then, but unfortunately, fate has decided otherwise.”
The hero got up and brandished a sharp knife. Shifty tensed up and watched his sword carefully, but then relaxed, seeing the young soldier showing no signs of aggression.
“Food, water, warm clothes, firewood. That's what we need to find. Let's split up and complete one task each.”
Then he pointed to himself with the tip of a knife.
“I'll carve cow carcasses to get meat for us.”
Scholars looked around the stone platform mostly immersed in deep shadows and grimaced.
“I'll find firewood.”
Shifty also glanced left and right, with a strange radiance in his eyes.
“Then I'll go find something warm for us to wear.”
Sunny was the last person left. Hero looked at him for a long time.
“Most of our water is stored in carts. But each of my dead brothers brought an urn. Collect as many as you can find.”
***
Some time later, far enough from the campfire to hide in the shadows, Sunny searches for the dead soldier with half a dozen jars already weighing him down. Shivering in the cold, he finally found the last broken body clad in leather armor.
The old veteran who whipped him for trying to receive the flask of the Hero is seriously injured and dying, but, miraculously, still survives. Horrible wounds covered his chest and stomach, and he was clearly in a lot of pain.
Time's almost up.
Sunny knelt beside the dying soldier and looked at him, looking for the man's urn.
‘What irony,’ thought.
The older man tried to focus his gaze on Sunny and weakly moved his hand, grabbing something. Sunny looked down and saw a shattered sword lying on the ground not far from them. Curious, he took it.
“Are you looking for this? Wh why? Are you like Vikings, wanting to die with weapons in hand?”
The dying soldier did not reply, watching the young slave with an unknown intense emotion in his eyes.
“Well, you better be. Anyway, I promise I'll see you die.”
With that, he leaned forward and slit the old man's neck with the sharp end of his knife broken, then threw it away. The soldier twitched, drowning in his own blood. The expression in his eyes changed was it gratitude? Or hatred? Sunny doesn't know.
Illusory or not, this was the first time he had killed a human. Sunny thought she would feel guilty or afraid, but there was really nothing. It seemed, for better or worse, his cruel upbringing in the real world had prepared him well for now.
He sat quietly near the old man, accompanying him on this final journey.
After a while, the voice of the Spell came whispering into his ear:
[You have killed a dormant human, name unknown.]
Sunny jerks.
‘Oh, true. Killing people was also an achievement, as far as Spells were concerned. They usually do not show this in webtoons and dramas.’
He registered the fact and kept it. But, as it turned out, the spell had not finished being uttered.
[You have received Memory.].
Sunny froze, opening her eyes wide.
‘Yes! Come on, give me something nice!’
Memories can be anything from weapons to magical items. One received from a dormant ranked enemy would not be too powerful, but it was still a boon: unweighted and undetectable, invoked from nothing with a simple thought, a very useful Memory. Moreover, unlike physical objects, he would be able to bring her back to the real world. The advantage of having something like that on the periphery is hard to estimate too high.
‘Weapons! Give me the sword!’
[.. Receiving Memory: Silver Bell.]
Sunny sighed, disappointed.
‘Well, with my luck, what do I expect?’
Still, it's worth investigating. Perhaps it had a powerful charm, such as being able to send out destructive sonic waves or fend off incoming projectiles.
Sunny called out the runes and concentrated on the word “Silver Bell”. Immediately, an image of a small bell appeared before his eyes, with a short strand of text underneath.
[Silver Bell: a small memento of a long-lost house, which once brought comfort and joy to its owner. Its clear ringing can be heard from miles away.]
“Truly bullshit,” thought Sunny sad.
His first memory turned out to be as useless as everything he had. He was almost starting to see the theme of how the Spell treated him.
‘Anything.’
Sunny threw away the runes and then busied himself removing the warm and sturdy fur cape and leather boots from the corpse. As an officer, the quality of this outfit was far above ordinary soldiers. After putting it on, the young slave finally felt warm for the first time since Nightmare started not remembering the short time he spent near the campfire.
‘Perfect,’ thought.
Her robe was slightly covered in blood, but then again, so was Sunny.
He looked around, easily piercing through the veil of darkness with his gloomy eyes. Hero and Scholar are still in the middle of their duties. Shifty was supposed to be looking for winter clothes, but instead greedily pulled the ring from the dead man's finger. Unseen by them, Sunny hesitated, considering whether she had really thought things through carefully.
His friends are unreliable. The future is too uncertain. Even the requirement to pass Nightmare remains a mystery. Any decision he could make would be a gamble, at best.
Still, he had to make some if he wanted to survive.
Not wasting any more time thinking, Sunny picked up the urn and sighed.
***
They spent the rest of the night sitting on their backs to the campfire, staring in terror into the night. Despite the fatigue, no one could sleep. The possibility of tyrant returning to finish off the four survivors was too frightening.
Only the Hero seemed to be fine, calmly sharpening his sword under the bright light of the dancing flame.
The sound of a grindstone rubbing against its blade somehow calmed down.
At daybreak, when the sun lazily began to warm the air, they filled themselves with all the supplies they managed to gather and set off into the cold air.
Sunny looked back, staring at the stone stage for the last time. He had made it through the place where the slave caravan was supposed to perish. What's gonna happen next? No one knows.