Chapter 3103 — Chapter 3103 Spark of Light

Saint was still fighting her fallen kin, while Sunny and Nephis set their sights on the very edge of the ancient city — there, the great river plummeted into the abyssal chasm in the roar of an immense waterfall, and white mist billowed in cold winds. Before they ventured forward, however, Sunny hesitated for a moment. He looked around, at the ruins of the devastated streets around them, and asked in a low tone:

“Should I... leave a tether here? Just in case."

It was unlikely that they would be able to remain in the Underworld for much longer. But even if they were forced to retreat, a tether could help him return here at will. Sunny had doubts, though.

Nephis shook her head.

“You shouldn't."

She wiped the blood off her lips and looked at the scorched expanse of shattered stone where her Dream Gate had stood. Her expression darkened.

“Now that we are facing Cursed and Unholy beings, we need to rethink a lot of things. In the battle against the Cursed Demon, Abjuration, it was able to use my connection to the Longing Domain to target its subjects... this time, the thing from the Abyss was able to destroy my Dream Gate. Who's to say that some Unholy horror won't be able to make use of your tether, as well?"

Sunny's expression turned grim.

Nephis was right. The harrowing deities of the Dream Realm were beyond their understanding and wielded powers that defied reason. It would already be bad enough if the abyssal horror could trace the tether back to Sunny and attack his soul... but what if it could follow him to the other end of the tether, as well?

Imagining that thing extending its tendrils into NQSC or Bastion made Sunny shudder.

"We only have one attempt, then. We'd better not waste it."

Sharing an uneasy look, they moved toward the edge of the city. They had to fly again, landing on the rock outcropping above the swirling white mist — Nephis was still reeling from the dire strain of the battle against the dark copy, but she summoned her wings, gritting her teeth as pain and exhaustion washed over her.

Nether's flying stronghold was now behind and above them, while in front of them, a seemingly boundless expanse of impenetrable darkness stretched as far as they could see — which wasn't far, considering that Saint was on the other end of the city.

Neph's radiance, which usually resembled a brilliant star, seemed like a tiny spark in the face of that vast expanse of cold darkness. Her light didn't reach far, barely illuminating the wisps of mist below.

Beyond that, there was only an endless, inscrutable black void.

The roar of the unseen waterfall enveloped them, the air full of cool vapor. Sunny inhaled deeply, still failing to suppress the instinctual terror that held his heart in an icy grasp. The abyssal horror still hid somewhere in the depths of that black void. Sunny could not see it, could not sense it... he did not know if a towering tendril would rise the next moment to envelop him and pull him down into the darkness.

However, he still forced himself to look ahead, facing the boundless darkness.

And then, his expression changed.

Sunny’s eyes glinted, and he raised a hand, pointing forward.

“Neph, do you... see it?"

She answered in a quiet, reserved tone:

"Yeah."

Sunny let out a quiet sigh.

There, below them, another tiny spark of light was shining in the boundless darkness. Sunny and Nephis looked at each other. A few moments passed in silence — there was so much each of them had to say, and yet, no words could express the truth of what they felt.

In the end, Sunny raised a hand and lightly gripped Neph's shoulder. Then, he let go, took a step forward, and spread his dark wings.

They glided across the black void, enveloped by the roaring of the waterfall and the clouds of water vapor, the swirling mass of white mist just a few meters below them.

In the end, they reached the source of the mysterious light. There, a shelf or rugged rock extended from the sheer rock, protruding from the roaring wall of falling water. It tapered to a point, hanging above the abyss like a narrow cliff — the light they had seen shone at the very tip of that cliff, shimmering lightly.

Below, there was nothing but darkness. The stones were slippery, and if one lost their footing, all that awaited them was an endless, dreadful fall.

Sunny walked forward with careful steps. Nephis followed, moving slowly... it was as if she was afraid of what lay ahead, gathering all her courage to face it.

Sunny did not know what to expect, but he knew that they had found what he had been searching for — his blood told him, pulling him forward with subtle but strangely inescapable force.

There, hidden in the mysterious light... Shadow Weave, the last fragment of Weaver's Lineage, awaited.

And Broken Sword, as well.

Finally, they arrived at the tip of the cliff and discovered where the light was coming from.

On the very edge of boundless darkness, a cracked sword was thrust into the stone at an angle. An enchanted lantern hung from its crossguard, illuminating a small patch of dark stone with luminous light. Despite the decades that had passed, the lantern still burned brightly, keeping the unfathomable mass of darkness at bay.

And in front of the cracked sword...

Both Sunny and Nephis froze, looking down.

They were looking at different things, though.

Neph's gaze was aimed at the weathered bones that lay on the edge of the abyss. A white skull, a scattering of broken ribs, a fractured arm extending to the lantern... it was a skeleton of a human, battered and broken, covered by the tattered remains of a faded military uniform.

It was her father, Broken Sword — the first human to have ever conquered the Third Nightmare, and the Fourth one as well. What remained of him, hidden in eternal darkness.

Sunny, however, was not looking at the forlorn remains of the great hero of humanity.

Instead, he was looking at the shadow cast by the skeleton.

The shadow was lying on the cold stones — however, it was not broken or battered.

It was not a human shadow, either.

Instead, it was tall and imposing, shrouded in a long mantle. Eight hands extended from the folds of the mantle, and atop the shadow's head...

Three twisting horns rose like a crown.

It was a shadow of Weaver, the Demon of Fate.