The sun was slowly drowning in the darkness of the void, and as it did, a veil of shadows was devouring the world. The western horizon was still aflame with the scarlet pyre of the sunset, but the somber night was already approaching from the east.
On a desolate island covered by tall pillars of jagged rock, a numinous temple stood, its beautiful stone walls painted red by the light of the drowning sun. All around it, countless swords were thrust into the petrous ground, rising from it like a solemn graveyard of steel.
There was only one path through the forest of blades, and as the twilight of dusk approached it, a dull, echoing ringing suddenly resounded from the darkness, then traveled through it, slowly growing closer and closer.
It was the sound of adamantine hooves ringing against stone.
Soon, four crimson flames ignited in the shadows, and then revealed themselves to be four eyes. Two belonged to a stygian destrier, the other two to its dark rider.
The steed was black as night, with dreadful horns crowning its head. It walked forward with a steady pace, fearsome and noble, lean muscles rolling under its lusterless coat. The rider was a graceful woman in intricate onyx armor, her face hidden behind the visor of a closed helmet, with only ruby lights shining through it with indifferent resolve. Her presence was both calm and fearsome, full of quiet confidence and frightening strength.
The blade of a great odachi rested on her shoulder, its steel as dark as the heart of the night.
…Two steps behind the taciturn knight, two creatures walked with their gazes lowered to the ground. One was a towering, four-armed demon dressed in a black kimono, his dark hair tied with a silk ribbon. The other was a strange human with skin that resembled polished bark, wearing a fitting dark garment made of soft silk, his disfigured face hidden behind a wooden mask and drowning in the shadow of a deep hood. Neither of them was armed.
The dark knight led her horse to the first steps of the path through the graveyard of swords and stopped, waiting. Her ruby eyes burned with cold calmness, as if the woman had a heart made of stone, incapable of feeling fear, unease, or trepidation.
Her servants, however, were not as aloof. Both stole glances at the magnificent stone temple, tension clearly written on their faces. A few moments later, the human asked quietly:
"It is too late to turn back, isn't it?"
The demon did not respond… not that he was capable of speaking in the human tongue. Instead, he simply nodded, then froze, as if sensing something. The other servant sighed and grew silent, as well.
There was no one and nothing around them, just the pillars of jagged rocks and the swords thrust into the ground. The island was awash in the bloodred radiance of the dying sunset, with deep shadows nesting in the spots from where the sunlight had already fled. A gust of wind suddenly blew, bringing with it the smell of iron.
…And then, out of nowhere, they were surrounded by a dozen silent figures.
All of them were beautiful women, wearing light garments made of red silk. Their bodies were slender and supple, their skin smooth and soft… the sight of them might have been alluring if not for the sharp coldness of their eyes, the ruthless expressions written on their tantalizing faces, and the murderous glint of their blades, all aimed at the uninvited guests.
Sunny shivered.
'...Damnation.'
Noctis had not been joking when he described the War Maidens as fearsome. Even though these women were just Awakened, his intuition was screaming that they represented mortal danger. However, Sunny did not need the help of his enhanced sixth sense to understand that… the feeling he got from the female warriors was the same as he had experienced a few times before in his life, when facing true battle masters.
Morgan of Valor had given him the same frightening sensation, as well as Auro of the Nine, Master Jet, Nephis, and a couple of others, all of them elite combatants of the highest tier. Some of these fiends he had fought and somehow survived, but not without shedding a lot of blood and receiving deep scars, if not on his body, then on his soul.
And right now, he was staring at twelve of such monsters… and these were just the sentinels, no doubt. Who knew what kind of battle saints would he meet inside the temple?
…No wonder this sect had been Solvane's cradle.
Full of bad premonitions, he made sure to not make any sudden movements and continued staring at the ground. His role during this part was rather simple... he just had to do nothing.
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