A giant slowly rose from beneath the dunes, erasing them. As rivers of white sand flowed down from his rising figure, his shape and appearance were slowly revealed.
The being who had changed the underlying currents of the world with his mere presence resembled a human — a skeleton of a human, at least. He towered above the desert like a terrifying monument, a tattered robe of fluttering ivory fabric obscuring his ancient bones. Those of the bones that were in sight were black, like the bones of other Deathless, but also different.
That was because they were inlaid with strips of pure gold, which framed his cheekbones, empty eye sockets, and rose above his skull like a crown.
In his hand, the giant was holding a white staff — one that might have been carved from the trunk of a sacred tree, or perhaps fashioned out of the spine of an enormous serpent. At the top of the staff, a clear crystal was emanating pure white light, set in gold.
The moment the heavy gaze of the giant skeleton fell on Sunny and the Shadow Legion, he felt as if something pressed him into the ground. A few of the severely damaged shades simply collapsed, vanquished by the mere weight of that gaze.
‘D—damnation...'
Sunny stared at the Deathless Spirit, momentarily frozen by the oppressive power of the fallen deity's presence.
Azarax was staring at the enormous skeleton, as well, his jaw set grimly.
A moment later, he opened it and said:
"It's... it's him. The Wandering Archon."
Sunny finally composed himself.
“What are his powers? What concept does he command?"
Azarax remained silent.
“Answer me, damn it!"
Finally, the ancient tyrant turned to look at one of Sunny's incarnations. Strangely enough, it seemed like his usual confidence was gone.
He spoke in a distant tone:
"I... I don't remember. Why don't I remember?"
Then, his empty eye sockets were suddenly full of anger.
"Who cares what powers he wields?! It's a damn Spirit, Shadow! Even if he lost his Aspect, his Will alone is enough to be a problem!"
Sunny winced and studied the battlefield.
‘That's true.'
With the arrival of the Wandering Archon, the fragile balance on the battlefield was broken. His tidal Will was like a guiding force that subjugated the collective Will of the Deathless — not intentionally, but simply by virtue of being so overpowering. It was a single source of intent that gave shape to the tumultuous vastness of their murderous determination.
As a result, the cracks Sunny and Nephis used to resist the Deathless horde were gone. Their Will could not overcome the enemy's anymore, and so, the world was being bent and twisted against them.
The Deathless grew stronger, faster, and more durable. The silent warriors of the Shadow Legion and the undead warriors following Azarax, meanwhile, grew slower and weaker. Their weapons missed more often, the sands shifted beneath their feet, and the blows raining down at them found their marks with greater ease.
Sunny's expression turned grim.
They had to deal with that Sacred skeleton...
But that was easier said than done.
Sunny was wary of Cursed beings, but he was not particularly wary of the Wandering Archon. That was because it was the unnatural powers that made Nightmare Creatures of the Cursed Rank — the dark gods of the Dream Realm — so dangerous. The Deathless only had a tenuous grasp on their powers, at best, so a Deathless champion of the Sacred Rank was not as frightening.
All he possessed was raw power and the terrifying immensity of his Will. However, Sunny and Nephis were both Supreme Titans, and had Azarax as an ally as well. By all accounts, the three of them should have been enough to slay a Cursed One or two, especially if those Cursed Ones were mere Beasts.
However, the Deathless could not be killed, and therein lay the problem.
They could not slay the Wandering Archon, so they had to dismantle him bone by bone. And completely obliterating a Sacred being was far more difficult than simply killing them.
Looking at the towering figure of the Deathless Spirit, Sunny made a tentative prediction that if the three of them — Nephis, Azarax, and himself — joined forces and poured everything they had into the battle, they would be able to destroy the terrifying creature before it destroyed them.
The problem, though, was that the Wandering Archon was not alone. There was still a great horde of Deathless warriors around them, and these undead horrors would not stay still while the champions of the invading army assaulted their god.
If all three of them focused on battling the Sacred prisoner of Ariel's Hell, the Deathless would swiftly overwhelm their army and attack them from the rear, making an already deadly clash simply impossible to win.
So, that meant...
That instead of destroying the Wandering Archon, someone would have to stall it until dawn.
If he survived.
The undead tyrant stared at him solemnly. It seemed like he was regarding Sunny with something that resembled emotion for the first time...
Eventually, he looked away and said:
"...And what are we supposed to do if a second Spirit rises from the sand?"
Sunny blinked a couple of times.
‘Did he just...'
He clenched his fists.
“Hey, fossil. I am going to tear your damn jaw off. Can you stop running your mouth, fool?!"
Shaking his head, Sunny headed in the direction where the Wandering Archon was already taking heavy steps, walking towards them.
“If a second Spirit shows up, deal with it! Smack it with your damn axe, why don't you?! Better yet, smash him with your skull! There doesn't seem to be anything inside it, anyway!"
Azarax laughed.
“Look! Now, you are finally starting to resemble a real Supreme!"
Sunny cursed at him.
"That damn bastard... I am going to come back and kill him right after I kill Eurys..."
He gave Saint an order to assume command of the Shadow Legion, and commanded his shades to follow Saint. By then, Nephis was already descending upon the Deathless in a whirlwind of white flame; Azarax dashed forward to rejoin the fight, his heavy axe crushing bones with each blow.
Now, it was up to Sunny to make sure that they would not have to deal with the Deathless Spirit.
‘This... is probably going to hurt.'
He called upon the Wolf.

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