The air grew thick the moment they crossed the threshold. It wasn't just darkness—it was true darkness, alive, aware, breathing around them as if assessing their presence. With every step, the shadows stretched, restless, as though the castle itself were watching them.
With Nephis at the front and Sunny walking behind her, every muscle tense, they advanced.
One step.
Two.
Three.
They didn't know how many levels they had already climbed. The castle felt as if it twisted inward on itself, as though ascending it meant walking inside a vertical whirlpool. The walls around them were covered in carvings etched into stone—not simple marks, but full scenes, detailed enough to seem like they could move at any moment.
The first showed a woman of divine beauty, crowned like a queen. Despite the passage of ages eroding the carving, her face remained recognizable: noble, serene, illuminated by a glow no shadow had managed to erase.
Sunny swallowed hard.
The next carving unsettled him.
It was the same woman... but here, even the stone seemed to radiate light. A strange halo, almost mystical, seeped from the surface, mocking the true darkness saturating the castle. The figure held a gigantic spear, nearly twice her height. Even carved, the spear emanated something akin to pure power.
Majestic.
A queen.
A warrior.
An impossible figure to ignore.
The carvings continued along the walls, repeating the woman in different roles: sovereign, protector, symbol. Sculpted with a precision no ordinary artisan could achieve. There was something in them... something alive.
Sunny felt a shiver run down his spine.
Was this what people called art?
Maybe.
But he doubted there was anything artificial about these carvings.
It seemed the queen truly had been exactly as she was depicted: the light of her people, their guide, their strength.
Then, suddenly, the carvings changed.
The walls were fractured. Edges broken. Sections torn off, as if someone had deliberately erased something. The carvings showed a titanic battle: the queen wearing armor marked with a sun, soldiers marching behind her. But the enemy... the enemy was missing. Erased. The section where the creature should have been was completely destroyed.
Sunny frowned.
That wasn't an accident.
That was censorship.
Cautiously, they climbed another set of stairs.
The air grew denser.
Colder.
More... anticipatory.
At the next level, the carvings were no longer beautiful.
They were violent. Uneven. Desperate.
Every stroke looked carved by someone who had carved until they bled.
Here, the enemies of the lightborn people were depicted: nightmare creatures, rendered so horrifically they barely resembled humans or animals. Strangely, they weren't true-darkness creatures... which complicated things. It was nearly impossible to carve anything above the Corrupted rank—let alone portray a Superior Demon or a Terror. Proportions didn't exist. Human understanding didn't apply.
If the queen had been a Supreme—perhaps even something greater—then the enemy had to be monstrous.
And the final carving confirmed it.
The queen stood surrounded by half her fallen people. Blood and stone mixed. Before her, the only intact figure was a humanoid creature... yet nothing about it was human. Something in its shape made Sunny's gaze instinctively slide away, as if even the stone refused to portray it accurately.
A creature of the Cursed rank?
Sunny had never seen one.
But if it could kill a Supreme... and wipe out an entire people... it could be nothing else.
The final carving showed the queen's death.
And for the first time... true darkness covered her face. Only her face.
Symbolic.
Deliberate.
Unsettling.
Sunny felt a cold knot form in his stomach.
He finally understood—or thought he understood—what had happened on this island.
And knowing didn't help at all.
Another Supreme dead in Ariel's Tomb?
Or perhaps the island had been dragged into it after the disaster.
Whatever the case, he deeply hoped he wouldn't have to face another creature like Dareon.
Remembering that fight made him nauseous.
And the castle...
The castle seemed to be telling him his hope was pointless.
Climbing the last steps, Sunny saw it.
A humanoid figure, impossibly tall—over three meters—waited in the center of the chamber. From afar its silhouette looked vaguely human; up close it was nothing but an aberration. Instead of arms, long tentacles of true darkness writhed with a life of their own, eager to tear flesh. And its face... its face was a mockery of humanity: a grotesque attempt, like a portrait painted with hatred, suffering, and despair.
Three eyes watched him with an empty glow. Its torn, ancient robe resembled that of an old painter, stained with dark blotches that could have been ink... or blood. Sunny had never met a painter, but he could guess this creature had once been one, or something like it, before corruption claimed it.
Focusing, he sensed them: six soul cores, all overflowing with corruption.
A Corrupted Terror, Sunny transmitted to Nephis through the link of their transcendent armor.
A small wave of relief washed over him. Small, fleeting. If it had been the creature that killed the queen, they would have had no chance. That it was "only" a Corrupted Terror was... better. Barely. And still terrible. Sunny knew the cruelty and terrible luck associated with that rank far too well.
But he didn't have time to think.
Nightmare creatures could feel a gaze the way a human could feel hostility... and this one was far too aware of their presence.
The fight began without warning.
The terror's tentacles shot forward, turning into whips of pure darkness. Sunny and Nephis, their swords already summoned, moved in perfect sync: a quick jump, almost instinctive, avoiding the first strike. The Dawn Crown above Nephis glowed faintly, repelling some of the darkness, while Sunny's strengthened his own.
For a moment, Sunny felt his essence reserves expand, almost limitless.
A deceptive breath before the storm.
They kept their distance. The terror was fast—too fast for something its size. And although it hadn't yet displayed its full strength, Sunny knew a single direct hit could destroy him.
They dodged with flawless precision. Through Shadow Dance, Sunny perceived microscopic patterns in the way the creature moved its tentacles. Almost imperceptible, but there. Nephis, with her deadly instinct, also waited for the perfect opening.
And when it came—when the terror retracted two tentacles for a wider strike—Sunny lunged forward.
A third tentacle descended toward him. Sunny conjured an improvised wall of shadows, blocking the impact at the last instant. He was now less than ten meters away... too close to retreat, too far to strike.
He couldn't summon the Shadow Spawn.
There were no shadows in the chamber.
Nothing that answered his call.
So he relied on his own body.
He jumped. Higher than he should have been able to, pushed by a dark impulse beneath his feet. As he fell, he created a Shadow Manifestation in the air, blocking another tentacle. The other two he dodged with a midair twist, as if gravity were only a suggestion.
And still, the creature focused solely on him. It chased him with visceral, almost personal hatred. It looked at him as if it recognized him. As if it had waited its entire existence for a chance to destroy him.
For Sunny, unfortunately, that was normal.
But it was still annoying.
Why did nightmare creatures always find him so... appetizing?
The terror's mistake was ignoring Nephis.
She emerged from behind, blue sword in hand, her white light expanding with a dangerous glow.
The terror tried to defend, but when the tentacles aimed at Sunny shifted toward her, a tall, slender shadow appeared between them—Saint. With a spear of true darkness and a matching shield, she blocked and deflected the attacks.
Saint gave Nephis the moment she needed.
The luminous explosion shook the entire chamber. Sunny had already retreated when Nephis reached the terror.
True darkness seemed to weaken. Still dense, still suffocating, but now with tiny cracks of clarity. Sunny didn't lower his guard. The terror's hatred still burned like a black fire.
From the dust, Nephis emerged.
And behind her, staggering, the Corrupted Terror.
Half its face was gone, including an eye. The wound sizzled with light essence burning the corruption. And still, its remaining eye... fixed on Sunny.
Seriously?
What had he done this time?
The terror didn't speak. Couldn't.
But a shrill scream tore from what remained of its mouth. A piercing sound, full of resentment, echoing through the entire castle.
With that scream...
The fight resumed.
The terror lunged forward with renewed ferocity, driven by a rage no longer human. Its single eye gleamed like an open wound, following Sunny's movements with disturbing precision. Tentacles crashed against the floor, the walls, the air, leaving dark scars that resembled burns in reality itself.
Sunny retreated, analyzing each whip, each twist. Shadow Dance sketched patterns before him, small anticipations etched into the unseen shadows of the terror. It wasn't hard to read—not now. Missing one eye and half its face, its balance was off.
But its hatred wasn't.
Nephis appeared beside him without a sound, moving like a flash of white. Her light cut through the true darkness, weakening it just enough for Sunny to orient himself. The Dawn Crown shone with a steady, solemn brilliance.
The terror switched targets for only an instant—long enough for a tentacle to strike where Nephis had been seconds ago.
Sunny used the distraction.
He ran right, forcing the terror to turn its remaining eye. The creature attacked him immediately, as if Sunny were its only purpose, the only reason it still stood.
A tentacle fell like a guillotine. Sunny rolled. Another swept from the side. He launched himself toward the wall, pushing off with an impossible acrobatic burst fueled by shadows. He landed on his feet. Breathed.
The terror roared, frustrated.
Nephis used the roar as a signal.
She slipped behind the creature, her blue sword cutting in a perfect arc toward the base of its neck. The terror sensed it. Turned at surprising speed, blocking the strike with a tentacle hardened like dark steel.
But that movement ruined its stance.
Sunny saw it.
Felt it.
That was the opening.
He sprinted toward the terror, leaning forward as his shadow shaped itself beneath his feet like a spring. He jumped, rising along the creature's side. Two tentacles reached for him. He struck the first with his sword, deflecting it. Conjured a Shadow Manifestation midair to step on. Twisted. Dodged the second by centimeters. Landed behind the creature, near its shoulder.
The terror twisted.
Too late.
Nephis was already in front of it.
Her sword blazed with white light—not in an explosion, but in a pure, concentrated line. A divine edge.
A tentacle lashed toward her—Saint intercepted again, shield bracing, spear pushing.
The creature staggered.
Sunny climbed its back for the third time, as though gravity no longer mattered. The terror tried to reach him, but Nephis severed another tentacle, and the last one slammed into the floor.
The terror opened its mouth to scream again.
Sunny reached its neck.
Nephis reached its chest.
They struck at the same time.
Her blade pierced the corrupted flesh, illuminating the wound with a burn of light. Sunny used the weight of his fall to drive his sword into the joint between neck and shoulder.
The terror tried to fight back... but it had no tentacles left.
No balance.
No strength.
Only hatred.
A final, weak movement shook its enormous head, as if searching for Sunny with its single eye...
And with a final push, Sunny cut.
The head fell, rolling across the floor with a dull thud.
The colossal body of the Corrupted Terror convulsed, arched... and collapsed.
Silence filled the chamber.
Only their breathing—Sunny's and Nephis's—remained while the true darkness inhabiting the place began to fade.
They had won.
They had killed the terror.
A spell-voice echoed in the dimness, as if the darkness itself whispered:
[You have slain a Corrupted Terror: Luzciel, the Fallen Painter]
[You have received a Memory]
Sunny raised a brow.
"Well..." he muttered. "I never complain about a transcendent Memory. Especially not from a Corrupted Terror."
True darkness receded slowly, pulling back like a black tide. Sunny waited. He always waited. Corrupted Terrors were infamous for their final unpleasant surprises.
When he was sure there was no immediate danger—no tentacles, no explosions, no Nephis screaming if something went wrong—he opened his runes with curiosity.
A new name shone among them.
[Charm of Light]
Memory Tier: VI
Memory Type: Charm
Memory Description:
"Aurelia Solenne, Queen of Light, was—according to her people—the living radiance of her small kingdom. Just, kind, brilliant... or so they believed. Her beauty and virtue lit every hall, every battle, every day. But light, even the purest, casts a shadow. And the brighter the shine... the longer and darker the shadow behind it."
"Aurelia forgot that truth. So did her people. Only one figure never did: the shadow that always followed her, a warrior destined to remain behind her, invisible, silent, resentful."
"When the kingdom believed victory assured, the unimaginable happened. That shadow—witness to sacrifices no one else knew, victim of the price Aurelia paid to become 'perfect'—claimed its due. Not for ambition. Not for power. For resentment."
"Aurelia fell before she understood that the wound killing her did not come from an outside monster, but from the reflection of her own light."
"The kingdom died with her. Unable to accept the truth, her people chose to erase the shadow and remember only the queen they loved."
"The last survivor of her people—a loyal artist until the end—carved her story into stone. Not the real story, but the one his heart refused to abandon: a just, noble, immaculate queen. His eternal light. His lost hope."
⸻
Sunny blinked.
Read the description a second time.
And a third.
Ah.
So that was it.
The castle's carvings—the ones that had fooled him, the ones that seemed almost alive, the ones showing pure heroism—weren't history.
They were devotion.
A desperate painter had immortalized his queen as he saw her.
Not as she had truly been.
Not as she had died.
The betrayal, the shadow, the resentment, the fall... all erased from stone and memory.
And Sunny understood that far too well.
—The shadow was her servant... her warrior —he murmured—. Someone who followed her all his life, who gave everything... until he couldn't anymore. Until he wanted to see her fall.
Sunny lifted his gaze toward the dark sky the castle had hidden.
Now he understood why the Sin of Solace had sent him here...