Chapter 995 — 995: The Fall of Falcon Scott (13)

The world seemed trapped in a violent seizure. The darkness of the endless night was savaged, torn apart by the spreading wildfire and the disorienting flashes of numerous firing armaments. The cacophony of thunderous salvos and inhuman shrieks fused into an almost palpable force, pressing down on Sunny from all sides.

Some distance away, above the burning hellscape of the killing field, the Devouring Cloud had reformed itself to create a breach in the wall of flames. A dark mass of brood beasts poured forward, rushing to reach the defensive barrier of the last human city. The incoming segment of the swarm swirled, forming into a long and vast protuberance.

It looked like a giant tentacle that grew and twisted, aiming for a single spot on the city wall… the dome of shimmering energy where Dale and Winter were making their stand.

'Something is indeed very wrong…'

Since when was the Devouring Cloud so purposeful? How could the swarm of mindless brood beasts not only identify the deadliest threat, but also show enough coordinated intent to try taking it out first?

Feeling a chill run down his spine, Sunny activated the [Dying Wish] and watched as the tip of the dark protuberance pivoted, changing its direction to attack him instead.

'Wonderful.'

He glanced at Jet, lingered for a moment, and then asked in a hoarse voice:

"Are we sure that we want to do this?"

Soul Reaper lowered her graceful glaive, a thin layer of ice slowly condensing on its silver blade. Brushing her raven black hair back, she smiled from the corner of her mouth.

"What do our wishes have to do with anything?"

Sunny looked back at the approaching swarm and sighed.

"...Fair enough."

At that point, most of the armaments on the southern section of the wall had concentrated their fire on the advancing protuberance. It was being torn by the heavy tungsten rounds of the rail guns, the squall of bullets unleashed by countless turrets, the sporadic rifle fire of mundane infantrymen, the Memories and Abilities of Awakened soldiers.

As Sunny watched, swarms of miniature missiles shot from the shoulders of the towering MWPs, streaking across the sky and blasting countless abominations to shreds.

The attacking swarm was continuously breaking and rebuilding itself, new brood beasts instantly taking the place of the slain ones to close the gaps… it was not showing any signs of slowing down, though, which meant that Sunny would not escape it.

Well… he was not worried.

"Sure you are."

Sunny winced and glanced at the Sin of Solace with displeasure. His mental defenses were supposed to be quite high right now. Why wasn't the damned sword affected at all?

"Ah, yes. Your new, shiny shell… as good a reason to feel confident as any, I guess. And if that is not enough, you can always escape into the shadows. Right?"

Sunny pretended not to hear the insidious voice.

"Have you not stopped to think about Jet, though? Where would she escape? Are you ready to watch her die? You better be… an outsider like her does not matter, anyway…"

Sunny glanced at Master Jet, who was observing the swarm by his side. Her beautiful face was calm and focused.

He sighed.

'You are very proud of yourself, aren't you? Toying with me, playing on my deepest fears and insecurities… but aren't you embarrassed of yourself a little?'

The Sin of Solace did not answer.

'I'll admit, you did catch me by surprise a couple of times. However, now that I know what to expect, why would such childish jabs have any effect on me? I don't know whether you really are the voice of the cursed sword, or simply a part of my own subconscious twisted by it… although the latter seems more probable. However, one thing I do know is that you are out of your league here, buddy.'

He shook the beautiful jian slightly.

'I mean, who do you think you are? You are not the voice of Ariel, the Demon of Dread. You are merely a memory… of an echo… of a whisper. Something that pathetic wants to drive me crazy? Please, don't make me laugh.'

There were a few moments of silence, and then, the insidious voice answered mockingly:

"And yet, here you are, talking to an imaginary voice in the middle of a battle."

Sunny smiled.

'So what? Hearing voices and talking to myself is somewhat of a hobby of mine.'

Been there, done that.

He pushed the annoying whispers to the back of his mind and concentrated on what was about to come.

A small shadow suddenly fell from the sky. Sunny almost moved to attack it, but then held himself back. In the next moment, a familiar crow landed on Jet's shoulder, glanced at him arrogantly, and turned to its master.

"Swam! Swam!"

Jet patted the bird on the head with a small smile.

"Yes. I know. Now go, it is going to be too dangerous for you."

The crow let out an outraged caw and spread its wings to make itself look bigger, but to no avail — she had already dismissed the Echo, making it dissipate into a swirl of sparks.

A few seconds later, the swarm was upon them.

The first of the lunging brood beast was cleanly severed in half by Jet's glaive, two bleeding slabs of hideous flesh flying over the wall to fall into the siege camp below. But the next one was already attacking.

Sunny allowed his mind to switch into the state of battle clarity — or rather, dive deeper into it, since clarity had long become like second nature to him. His thoughts accelerated, and his perception of the world became sharper, clearer, and more encompassing.

He moved forward with light steps, the Sin of Solace flashing through the air to pierce the creature's body. Its flesh parted before the jade blade like water.

At the same time, the shadows around them stirred, and a dozen black tentacles rose from them, grabbing the attacking brood beasts and tearing them apart.

The tentacles were different and much more complex than the ones he had usually summoned before — these ones had joints and a semblance of structure, ending with crude, but nimble and powerful hands. Sunny's long hours of practice had not been in vain. He had pushed his grasp of Shadow Manifestation forward by a lot.

…Of course, using it burned through his essence. Everything Sunny did required him to spend essence — weaving shadow strings, repeatedly summoning the Strike of Thunder, sustaining and augmenting the effect of the Dying Wish, saturating his body with resilience and strength. Any other Master would have been drained of all energy already.

But Sunny's reserves of essence were vast and potent, more than four times the volume of almost anyone else of the same Rank. At the same time, his control of it was nothing short of exquisite, allowing for near-perfect efficiency.

He had a lot of fight left in him, still.

The question was whether that would be enough.