Shadow Slave novel Chapter 3213

Chapter 3213: Thousands of Years of Corruption

Life was war, and war was everywhere in the tumultuous ocean of the mortal realms. Now that generations of brave heroes had pushed the previous rulers of the mundane world back and civilization had blossomed, Creatures of Corruption hid in the dark corners of existence and remote lands. Even if they had not disappeared altogether, many people went their entire lives without meeting one.

And without the Creatures of Corruption, those same heroes who had fought them turned their gazes to each other.

Cities grew and turned into kingdoms; the borders of the kingdoms pressed against each other, and conflicts abounded. More than that, exalted champions rose to the throne of Supremacy from time to time — and every time a new Supreme was crowned, they had to establish a Domain.

Old borders collapsed, and new ones were established. The balance of power in the mortal realms was disturbed, and a destructive wave of change rolled outward across the world, reaching even those realms that were far apart from the rising Domains.

So, war was common.

And a priestess of War always had somewhere to go.

Released from the torment of solitude, she was unbound. She had been too young and too naive when she gave the oath and became a War Maiden — but after maturing and treading the red mud of blood-soaked battlefields, she finally understood its tenets. She finally fathomed the true essence of War and learned true devotion.

Her goddess was the goddess of war... but ultimately, she was the goddess of life.

War was life, and life always triumphed. It always persevered, it always endured. It never gave up.

Just like her.

So, what she truly worshipped was life.

And there was nowhere one could experience life sharper or more desperately than on a battlefield — surrounded by death, only the width of a blade away from falling into its dark embrace.

Now that she was twenty and already an Ascended, having devoted herself to her goddess, she finally felt like herself. She felt as if it was only now that she gained the ability to think for herself and make her own decisions... to be her own person.

She wasn’t a novice among the War Maidens anymore, either, and as such was afforded authority. One of the privileges she gained was the right to lead younger sisters into battle; the other was to decide which battlefield to enter on her own.

Each War Maiden had her own way of choosing where to worship their goddess, and for which side to fight. Some fought for those who seemed to have a nobler cause; some fought for those who had more valor. Some pursued opportunities to witness specific stratagems or test themselves against outstanding warriors.

For her, the choice was simple. She always went where the drums of war roared the loudest, joining the fiercest of battles to fight for the weakest side. Her goal was always to cut down the strongest adversaries while ensuring that as many of her comrades as possible survived. She was often grievously wounded, but never defeated — wherever she went, blood flowed like a river, but she never drowned in its tide.

She witnessed the ugliest side of humanity. She witnessed the most beautiful expressions of human goodness, as well. She witnessed life in all its brilliant glory — from the darkest hues of despair and sorrow to the radiant joy of devotion and hope.

She fought men. She fought Creatures of Corruption.

She watched, she learned... she grew.

At twenty-six, she became a Transcendent. Soon, there was an army following her. Her name was renowned across all mortal realms, and her fame continued to rise.

But the desire of those who wanted to claim her continued to grow, as well, as did their power. They came to break her and force her to submit, to make her their own...

She faced and killed them all.

Eventually, she grew tired of bloodshed. And so, for a while, she retreated from the world, returning to the temple that had nurtured her — there, she took charge of raising a new generation of War Maidens, treating the orphaned girls as her own daughters.

Some of them were motivated. Some of them were lazy. Some of them were strong and talented, while some were weak and unsuited for combat. But still, she loved them all. Even if she had to keep her distance to spare them the curse of her Flaw, she made sure to give each one as much attention as she could.

She was gentler than the priestesses who had raised her... perhaps that was her sin.

The goal of all War Maidens was to reforge themselves in the image of the goddess they worshiped. That goddess was a goddess of war, but she was also the goddess of life — and life had to be nurtured.

So, during her stay at the temple, she sometimes allowed herself to think that she was growing closer to War God. That she understood the depths of the boundless love her goddess had for all humans, and especially for the War Maidens like her.

Eventually, the girls she raised Awakened and left to seek their own devotion. A new generation came to replace them, and she grew to love them as well... but nothing could compare to the bond she felt to her first pupils, and she missed them dearly.

Even if they did not miss her in turn.

The world outside the temple was in turmoil. A new Supreme had recently risen from the clamor of the battlefield and carved out a small empire for himself. His conquest ended swiftly, and he led his warriors home to consolidate and stabilize his Domain.

However, not all of his subjects were satisfied by the promise of peace. Some had greater ambition... some still lusted for blood. His own son slew him and became the new ruler, attaining Supremacy through an act of defiant patricide — and once he began his own conquest, bloodshed never stopped.

His armies spread across the mortal realms like a steel plague, and no one could stop him. One kingdom fell after another, and so did the Supreme rulers of humanity. Eventually, only a few remained, and people began to whisper that the coming of the Second Kingdom was not far away — a kingdom that would unite all humans. A kingdom of blood, a kingdom of murder... a kingdom devoted to nothing but slaying steel.

That was until one of her pupils — her most cherished daughter — led an army of mercenaries to stand in his way.

The news of her death reached the temple long after she perished. The girl had defeated the insurmountable Steel Horde and caused the collapse of the tyrant’s Domain. However, in the process, she broke the covenant between her and her goddess... and, as a result, she was cast into the cruelest hell.

On the day the news arrived, the priestesses in the temple were dismayed and angered. Their eyes were full of fury — a War Maiden was meant to die before breaking her oaths, after all. The black sheep of their order had brought them unspeakable shame.

However, she felt no fury and no contempt. All she felt was pain and sorrow.

At night, she walked to look at the starlit sky, wondering about the girl she had lost. Had her last moments been painful? Had she suffered? Had she died all alone, surrounded by indifference and scorn?

On that night... she doubted her goddess for the first time.

Soon, she left the temple and returned to the battlefield. The world had descended into chaos after the collapse of the Steel Empire, with countless warlords fighting over its pieces. The Creatures of Corruption raised their hideous heads and crawled out of the darkness, using the turmoil to reap a rich harvest of human souls.

Rumors were that a new avatar of War God had been born recently somewhere in the mortal realms, and many people believed that an era of bloodshed would begin to welcome the young dragon into the world.

Her life was not much different from how it had been before, when she was younger — and yet, it felt different. Before, she had wandered from one battlefield to another with a sense of purpose. Now, she was simply drifting from one war to another, unbalanced... directionless. Her power was greater than it had ever been, and yet, she felt powerless.

The ancient order of the War Maidens was slowly becoming a vestige of the past, as well. Too many of them had died, and too few were willing to give the oath — the cult of War God was shifting to the worship of a new incarnation of their deity, after all. Those who followed War wanted to submit to the Dragon and serve a living deity, not remake themselves in the image of a distant god.

By then, she had become the greatest warrior of their order, and one with the most prestige as well.

That was when Sun God approached her, beseeching her to become one of Hope’s wardens.

"Among the heroes of humanity, I am neither the strongest nor the fastest. I am not the wisest of us, either. So why me?"

The avatar of the radiant god remained silent for a long while, then answered in an inscrutable voice.

His answer was simple:

"Because you never give up."

She agreed.

And so, her fate was plucked from the great tapestry and twisted into an endless loop. Taking the remaining War Maidens and those warriors who followed her, she embarked on a journey to the shattered Kingdom of Hope.

She left the world behind.

There, she met the other Chain Lords. The noble Sevirax and his virtuous brother, the enigmatic Saint of Shadows, the aloof oracle who built a temple to the Goddess of the Black Skies in the north, the compassionate and benevolent Aidre... and the eccentric sorcerer, Noctis, as well.

For a while, they performed their duty flawlessly. Outside, the Empire of War expanded through conquest, seamlessly incorporating new lands into its fold. But there was no war in the Kingdom of Hope... there was only time.

Time flowed. People grew old and decrepit, then died. Soon, there was no one left who had known her as she had been before... the priestesses who had raised her were long gone, and her sisters from the temple were gone as well. Even the girls she had nurtured and trained disappeared in the jaws of time, only her memory of them remaining.

She missed them... but she missed the one who had broken the oath the most.

She often went to pray in front of the statue of War God. However, her prayers weren’t full of devotion. At times, they were close to sacrilege instead.

"Why did you abandon her?"

"Why was she punished?"

"Didn’t you love her?"

"Didn’t your heart bleed while she suffered?"

"Mine does..."

She didn’t understand why her goddess had been so cruel. She didn’t understand how one could love someone, and yet cast their torn and bleeding soul into the depths of hell.

Until, one day, she did.

She understood that gods were different from mortals... and so was their love. So, there was no point in trying to understand it at all.

She laughed bitterly.

She grew despondent.

She allowed herself to question things that she had considered sacred.

During one of the gatherings among the seven immortals, the Beast of Twilight imbibed too much spirit wine, as he always did. The atmosphere was informal, and conversation flowed naturally.

And so, she asked.

"Why do you think the Lord of Light entrusted the keys to Hope’s prison to us? Did he want us to protect them? Or did he want us to use them?"