Silence and darkness reigned in the empty underground hall. The mirror that had stood at its center was broken now, its shards scattered across the floor.
The mirror was gone...
The man who used to be the King of Nothing was gone, as well.
There was no body left in his wake, and no trace of his existence remained.
As if he had never existed at all.
There was only the bloodied mirror shard that the man who had become the King of Nothing was still holding in his hand.
It was hard to tell whose blood was smeared across the cold glass.
He was sitting on the floor with his legs crossed, breathing evenly. His eyes were closed, and his face was emotionless. Behind the expressionless mask, however, raged a dark and dire storm.
After decades spent shattered and incomplete, Mordret had killed and absorbed the last shard of himself, finally becoming whole once again. Becoming who he used to be... a human.
But what kind of human was he?
The Mordret who had roamed the perilous expanse of the Dream Realm, dreaming of vengeance as he committed all kinds of vile and unforgivable acts, was gone now.
The meek and compassionate Mordret, who had spent most of his life in a beautiful mirage conjured for him by the Great Mirror... was gone, as well.
In their place, a man who was neither compassionate nor entirely heartless remained, slowly coming to terms with his newfound ability to feel all the things that a person was supposed to feel.
The burden of that ability was like a curse. Mordret remembered both of his lives, and was tormented by the memories of both.
Because now, he could feel the guilt and regret for the things he had done. He could feel the pain and sorrow of what had been done to him, as well.
It was funny...
Mordret's Flaw was to be shattered, and now, he was not shattered anymore. However, that did not mean that he was free of his Flaw.
If one took a porcelain vase and broke it, then glued the pieces together... was the vase flawless? No. The marks of having been broken remained on its surface, marring it forever.
The same went for Mordret. Even if he had assembled the shards of himself into a complete person once more, the scars of having been shattered remained โ would always remain, shaping him and dictating the terms of his existence.
He could never escape his Flaw. His entire life had been shaped by it, and all he could do now was learn how to live as a flawed vessel.
Mordret had to contend with the heavy burden of his past, which he was able to experience in all its bitter vibrancy for the first time, and with his the dark expanse of his future as well.
On top of that, he had to contend with becoming Supreme.
It was strange โ Mordret was a mere Awakened only a year ago, but at the same time, he remembered being a Sovereign. His memories of ruling the Mirror Domain were fragmented and woefully incomplete, but he did remember it. The dire authority of bending the world to his Will, the inhuman state of being torn about millions of vessels...
Granted, he was not much of a Supreme at the moment.
All his vessels were gone. His Reflections were gone, as well. He only had one soul core left... his Domain was destroyed, and all that remained of his kingdom was its king.
A king who ruled nobody and had nothing. Hearing the sound of footsteps rushing down the stairs, Mordret sighed and opened his eyes.
His eyes, which had reflected the world back on itself once, were now tired, dull, and somber.
The soldiers of the Hunger Domain were coming to kill him.
And unlike the previous King of Nothing, Mordret was not immortal.
โHow hateful.'
A moment later, the warriors burst into the underground chamber. There were dozens of them โ some of them were powerful, and some of them weren't. Mordret wasn't clear what their purpose here was.
Were they pursuing his brother, hoping to kill the Great Beast he had become? Or were they searching for Mordret himself, hoping to kill him and end the profane life of the King of Nothing that way?
โIt doesn't matter, I suppose."
His voice was quiet and aloof.
The soldiers of the Hunger Domain were led by a familiar face โ an old and hateful face that had played a vile role in the memories Mordret inherited from his brother, thanks to the dire grace of Song of the Fallen. It was Saint Jest, the man who had done the dirty work for the Valor clan once.
Seeing his expression told Mordret all he needed to know about their purpose.
It seemed that they had not expected to meet him here at all.
As soon as Old Jest noticed Mordret, his face contorted. He froze for a split second, and then barked:
โEveryone, close your eyes!"
But it was too late.
By the time Jest shut his eyes, he was already surrounded by nothing except screams and the sound of blood spilling to the floor.
...Only a few moments later, however, did the screams stop.
Because there was no one left to scream anymore.
A dead silence enveloped him like a cloak and made him shiver.


VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABEL
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: Shadow Slave