Shadow Slave
chapter-979-25061257

The mighty griffin landed in front of the caravan, a cloud of snow rising into the air around it. A moment later, a human figure jumped off its back, landing not too far away from Sunny and Naeve.

The man in front of them was tall and had broad, powerful shoulders. His light armor was crafted from the adamantine scales of an unknown monster, with a blue scarf wrapped carelessly around his neck. His hair was the color of straw, as was his thick beard.

The stranger's eyes were bright blue and piercing.

...Master Roan had not changed a lot since the last time he and Sunny met. Sky Tide's husband seemed a little more rugged and weary, but other than the length of his bear, everything else was exactly the same.

'How the hell is he even more handsome now?1 Sunny blinked a couple of times, then smiled a little.

It was good to see Roan alive and well.

In retrospect, his sudden appearance made sense. Since the whole of the White Feather clan had been banished to Antarctica, where else would Roan be?

The man in question, meanwhile, studied the caravan for a few moments, and then headed toward Sunny and Naeve. As he approached, he paused slightly and stared at them with a strange expression. Then, a surprised smile appeared on Roan's face.

"Sunless? Wait... it's you? You're the famous Devil of Antarctica?"

Sunny shifted a little, then cleared his throat in embarrassment.

"Uh... yes? That's what people call me these days, I guess. Anyway, it is very nice to see you again, Master Roan. Really."

Roan remained silent for a few moments, then suddenly laughed.

"Ah... why did nobody tell me? It makes sense, though! You do love striking deals with people... in exchange for soul shards..."

As Sunny coughed, Naeve looked at them with curiosity.

"You know each other?"

Still a little startled, Sunny nodded.

"...Yes. Master Roan of the White Feather clan, meet Master Naeve of the House of Night. The two of us are in charge of this caravan."

The two Ascended briefly studied each other, then exchanged nods. There was no real tension between them, but Sunny noticed that they were not entirely at ease with each other, unlike how they were with him.

It was understandable. White Feather was a vassal clan of Valor, while Naeve came from the great clan Night. Politically, there was somewhat of a wall between them... which was probably only made taller by the fact that Valor and Song were at war, while the House of Night remained neutral.

Would it continue to stay on the sidelines, though? That, nobody could tell.

Master Roan offered a handshake to Naeve, then glanced at the column of battered vehicles again.

"How many people do you have?"

It seemed that the time for pleasantries was over, and they were about to discuss business. Sunny was extremely motivated to get his people out of the open and to safety as soon as possible, so he was all for it.

Looking back, he said:

"Four thousand soldiers, thirty thousand civilian refugees, plus a few thousand shipwrecked sailors. I also have one hundred Awakened and around twenty Sleepers, as well as my own cohort of Irregulars. Oh, and a dozen or so Echoes between all of us, including a couple of Fallen ones."

Abomination and Roan's griffin were currently having a staring contest, so the last point was self-evident.

The handsome Master gave him a long stare.

"...You really brought these people here all the way from Erebus Field?"

Sunny smiled bleakly.

"Most of them, yes. A few hundred were with me from before that, though. These poor souls have crossed more than three thousand kilometers in search of shelter."

Roan lingered for a moment, then briefly grasped his shoulder. "You did well, Sunless. You did very well."

His words were encouraging, but his tone was somber.

Thirty thousand refugees might have sounded like a large number, considering how hard it was to escort such a caravan across the ravaged expanse of the Antarctic Center... but there had been tens of millions of people in Erebus Field.

Of course, there were more survivors than those gathered by Sunny, who had found their way to Falcon Scott or other siege capitals on their own, but the loss of life must have still been tremendous.

With a sigh, he looked away.

"So, how are we going to do this? I suspect that fighting our way to the city won't be easy."

Master Roan remained silent for a few moments, then smiled.

"Actually, you don't have to worry about it... too much, I mean. We've been receiving many refugee convoys in the last week or so, so the procedure has been polished a lot by now."

He turned around and looked at the valley ringed by thirteen Gates.

"At my signal, there will be a sortie from within the city walls to create a distraction. At the same time, your Irregular colleagues will clear the side road that circles this valley. All we have to do is cut through the remaining abominations and reach the entrance to the road. Are you and your people up to that?"

Sunny looked into the distance and smiled.

'How fitting.'

Wasn't it the exact same road that his cohort had been ordered to secure during the first days of the campaign?

Sunny had left Falcon Scott three months ago, and now, he was returning. The circle was complete.

What a tough road it had been.

Had he ever suspected that things would turn out this way? Millions of people were dead, the First Army was in retreat all across the Antarctic Center, and he had somehow ended up being responsible for tens of thousands of lives. Humanity had been thoroughly beaten by the Chain of Nightmares in this region of the Southern Quadrant.

...Not a chance. He had a suspicion that things would turn out disastrously for the First Army, but not so soon, and not to such an extent. Not to mention how bizarre his own situation.

'Well, what does it matter?'

Giving Roan a nod, Sunny stretched his shoulders and said: "...Yes. Yes, we are. Let's get the hell out of here."