Shadow Slave novel Chapter 2614

Chapter 2614: Late to the Party

The battle was over.

The mist dissipated, and the foaming water calmed down. The wraith armada was gone, having vanished like a fleeting apparition. Old Tom had retreated back into the abyssal depths.

The Night Garden had earned several new scars, its living hull slowly repairing itself in the pale starlight. The Awakened soldiers emerged from under the deck, and the Ascended officers who had manned the cannons were catching their breath while leaning on the railings, a cold breeze caressing their pale faces.

Soul Reaper Jet had already returned aboard her ship — somewhat battered, but mostly unscathed. Her armor was in need of some mending, so she dismissed it in favor of a set of comfortable mundane clothes.

Not long after, the Saints of Night climbed onto the deck of the Night Garden, as well. They were met with loud cheers — facing Old Tom in the dark depths of the Stormsea was an admirable act, after all, not to mention the awesome feat of driving the horrid creature away. On top of that, everyone was under the impression that they had fought the fiend alone.

While Naeve and Bloodwave were being celebrated by the Awakened soldiers, Sunny crawled out of the shadows in the quiet seclusion of Jet’s private garden and sprawled on the grass with a groan.

He felt absolutely miserable.

’All that for nothing...’

In the end, he had let Old Tom go. It was unclear whether he could have defeated it otherwise, out there in the abyssal depths, but Sunny still felt disappointed that he had not even received a chance to try.

He would have probably pursued the eerie horror if he had been alone, but at the moment, he also had to consider the Night Garden and its passengers. So, Sunny had chosen the less unhinged strategy and swallowed his desire to tear Old Tom limb from limb, returning to the surface instead.

Now, he was enduring the torment of his wounds with nothing to show for it. At the end there, he had been forced to face the horror of the depths without the defensive barrier of a Shell, in his true form — that of a vast, formless shadow. That had helped him salvage the battle, but also left him vulnerable to receiving soul damage.

That was fine, though, because Soul Weave was already mending his tattered soul... and somewhere in the depths, Old Tom was suffering, as well, having been poisoned by his Death Will.

Thinking about that last part made Sunny feel much better, filling him with vindictive joy.

Saint stood silently to his left, guarding his sprawled form. Slayer, meanwhile, was leaning against a tree some distance away, almost indistinguishable from the deep shadows around her.

Soon enough, Jet joined him in the garden, as well.

Sitting down nearby, she let out a long sigh and said in a wistful tone:

"It’s strange, isn’t it? We did not lose the battle, and yet, it doesn’t feel like we’ve won it either."

Sunny spared her a brief glance and shrugged.

"Doesn’t seem strange at all."

He lingered for a few moments, and then asked:

"That creepy feeling I got while fighting Old Tom... the Dutchman made an appearance, didn’t it?"

Jet nodded.

"Yes, just as expected. It vanished once the night fell, though."

Sunny raised an eyebrow.

"Did Aether chase it away?"

Jet remained silent for a while, then sighed again.

"It was not so much that it was scared away by Aether as that it chose to leave once the stars, and the map hidden in them, revealed themselves once again. We, Old Tom, and the Dutchman are not the only candidates left in the race, after all. So, I think it simply decided not to waste time, especially considering that the Night Garden had already sustained some damage by then."

She paused.

"In truth... I managed to vanquish a few ships, but the ones destroyed by Aether and your cannons are not really gone. They were simply dispelled, so they’ll return after a while. So, the damage we dealt to the ghost fleet was negligible."

Jet gave him a dark look.

"If I am correct, then the ghost sailors are merely emanations of the ship — lost souls bound to their sinister vessels and imprisoned by them, forever. Every time the sailors are destroyed, they return into the holds, and then get summoned to man the ships again later, in a never-ending cycle."

She exhaled slowly.

"Well, unless someone like me ends it. The ships themselves are merely emanations of the Dutchman, though — when they are destroyed, the wells of souls contained within them are drawn back into its great hold, in turn, so the ghost armada can never really be vanquished unless the Dutchman itself is destroyed. It’s like one big cursed nesting doll... that is what I concluded after sinking a few of those creepy ships, at least."

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