Shadow Slave novel Chapter 3164

The small settlement of the tribe had become a small village by then. The number of humans populating it had increased, while the tents made from fur and hide were replaced by wooden huts. The offerings brought by the villagers were more generous now — by their standards, naturally.

But perhaps, they still felt that it was not enough. Or perhaps they had grown fearful and desperate, for some reason... the shadow did not know. It did not care to know, either. All it knew was that, one day, its peaceful state of slumber was disturbed by a new noise. It wasn't the usual mumbling the tribesmen engaged in when leaving sacrifices on their altar.

Instead, the shadow heard a child crying. Displeased, it let out a heavy sigh and slowly, laboriously pulled its consciousness from the state of non-existence, creating a distinction between itself and the world once more.

‘What now?'

Its neighbors were proving to be most frustrating.

Out there, at the mouth of the cave, the shadow saw a familiar figure — it was the man it had saved once from an abomination.

The man was old now, his figure gaunt and bent. His limbs, which had been mighty once, were now thin and wiry. His thick beard had turned white, and there was a determined, mournful expression on his wrinkly face.

His shadow, on the contrary, had become darker and deeper, as if his death was drawing near.

Such was the nature of mundane humans. Their lives were fragile and fleeting — they flashed beautifully and vanished, leaving no trace of themselves in the world. One blink, and you could miss their existence entirely. The shadow frowned.

The man had grown old, but there was still strength in his limbs. He had no trouble dragging a crying child to the mouth of the cave, at least, whispering something in a somber tone.

‘What is the meaning of this?'

The shadow found its ability to ask questions much improved.

Before it could form a theory about what was happening, the old man stopped and lowered himself to one knee. Looking at the child — a girl who looked young enough to be his great-granddaughter — he said something, hugged her, and looked into the impenetrable darkness of the cave with an expression of fear, sorrow, and desperate hope.

Then, the old man pushed the girl into the darkness.

The shadow was surprised.

It was dismayed.

As the girl tumbled down sharp stones, rolling into the depths of the cave, it considered the old man, exploring a strange impulse that rose from the deepest, darkest corners of its soul.

The shadow felt compelled to kill the man. Was that so surprising, though?

It had been a consummate killer once, after all. It still was. Death was not only the shadow's home, but also the language it was most familiar with. In fact, the shadow suspected that it could very well be a living embodiment of death... its avatar, perhaps. Perhaps it was not just any shadow, but the shadow of Death itself.

Nevertheless, in the end, it allowed the old man to leave — for no other reason than that dealing with him would be bothersome. With the man gone, the shadow felt relieved.

That left it with another problem, though... The old man was gone, but the child was not.

The girl rolled to the floor of the cave and stayed there, trembling. In the darkness, her small frame looked like a heap of trash someone had left at the shadow's doorstep... in fact, using the word “doorstep” was not entirely correct.

Despite its attempts to become as small as possible, the shadow was still vast and deep. Its lightless expanse occupied most of the cave, so when the girl was pushed into the darkness, she was pushed into the vastness of the shadow.

In other words, the heap of trash had been unceremoniously left inside the shadow itself.

It hesitated, not sure what to do.

‘Should I kill her?'

The girl would be gone in the blink of an eye, anyway, like all mundane people. Killing her painlessly was the simplest solution... however, the shadow did not want to.

It felt a strong reluctance.

That was not merely because doing so would encourage more living sacrifices from the tribesmen, either.

At that moment, the shadow learned another fact about itself. It seemed that, although its nature was that of a merciless slayer... and that the number of its victims was incalculable... the shadow disliked senseless killing. The shadow abhorred it, in fact.

At the mention of the word "slayer", something seemed to move in its soul, but the shadow did not pay it any attention. It was preoccupied with the child.

The girl, meanwhile, seemed to find a tiny bit of courage and gathered herself from the ground, sitting up.

She looked around with an expression of fear on her small face and, unable to see anything in the dark, began to tremble even more violently.

She was trembling so much that the shadow barely made out what she said.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify