Sunny remained silent for a long time, then leaned back with a sigh. His thoughts were dark and heavy. Deep in his heart, an ember of anger smoldered, divorced from all reason, pus.h.i.+ng him to do dangerous and short-decided things. It was almost as if the Sin of Solace was whispering into his ears.
'Kill them all... how hard would it be to simply kill them all?' Probably not much easier than slaying the Winter Beast, and with much more dire consequences.
Shaking his head, he looked at Jet. They had never spoken about it directly, but she definitely knew the real reason why the great clans were coming to Antarctica. After all, Soul Reaper had a much more extensive information network... she was deeply embedded into the hierarchy of the government, and had a personal connection to some of its leaders.
Of course, the government was only a second-rate player in the grand scheme of things. Still, they played an important role, and as such, had access to a lot of secrets. He lingered for a few moments.
"...What do you think will happen now?"
Jet covered her mouth with a hand, yawned, and then smiled. "Right now? Well... let me think. I guess the first thing that will happen is that I am going to receive a message from the old man." Just as she finished the sentence, her communicator lit up, displaying a new notification. Soul Reaper chuckled quietly, then concentrated on the screen of the military-issue device.
"See... it's a curse, to always be right. Give me a minute."
Sunny waited for her to finish reading the important message... and it was important indeed.
The old man Jet had mentioned was none other than Saint Cor, the Wake of Ruin, one of the two government Transcendents. Sunny had met him briefly after coming to East Antarctica, and the man definitely left an impression.
Wake of Ruin was a tall, gaunt man in his late fifties. Although his skin was showing signs of aging, his hair still remained perfectly black, like the feathers of a raven. The Saint had sharp features, a piercing gaze, and a stern demeanor, acting like a person who was used to both wielding power and bearing responsibility.
Wherever he went, a slightly sweet, sickening scent followed. Sunny was intimately familiar with that scent - it reminded him of the smell of the battlefield. Or rather, of what remained after the battle was over.
Saint Cor... was not a likable person. However, it was hard not to feel respect toward him.
The government Transcendent was not as renowned and awesome as the Saints of the Legacy clans - in fact, for a Saint, he was strangely low-key - but his age alone told volumes about what kind of man he was, and what ordeals he had lived through.
Wake of Ruin was not quite in the same league as the legendary figures like Immortal Flame and Nightwalker, since he had been a young child when the Spell first descended. However, he was still a member of the First Generation, and as such, had watched - and helped build - the world order of today.
Even if Saint Cor had become Transcendent later than the members of the Second Generation like Anvil and Ki Song, he was still, in a sense, their elder.
Sunny did not know what the arrangement between the government and the great clans was exactly, but the mere fact that Wake of Ruin was allowed to be the exclusion from the rule and did not serve any of the Sovereigns hinted that there was more to the old man than appeared on the surface.
He was the field commander of the whole Antarctica operation. ...And Jet seemed to enjoy quite a close relations.h.i.+p with the veteran Saint. She was one of his most trusted agents. So, it wasn't a surprise that Soul Reaper would be one of the first people to be contacted by Wake of Ruin after the news of the Legacy forces coming to the Southern Quadrant were made public.
'Lucky me.'
Sunny did not have close ties to the upper echelons of the government, but as Soul Reaper's confidant, he would be privy to the vital information almost as soon as she.
Come to think of it, he also had eyes and ears inside Valor thanks to Nephis and Ca.s.sie... and enjoyed the friends.h.i.+p of one of the heirs of the House of Night. He even had a bond with Saint Bloodwave and was friendly with the White Feather clan.
'Huh. I guess I am better connected than I thought I was.'
And that was without even considering his venerated status in the Evacuation Army. Waiting for Jet to finish reading the message, Sunny grinned.
'Maybe I should seduce one of Seishan's sisters... just to complete the trifecta...'
Those women from the great clan Song - Ki Song's adopted daughters - were all a bit scary, though.
'Well, there's Mordret, as well...'
The naughty shadow gave him a sly glance, making Sunny blink a couple of times.
'What? What the h.e.l.l are you on about?! I didn't mean it that way! I was talking about befriending the b.a.s.t.a.r.d, not seducing him!'
The shadow tilted its head. If it had a face, there would have been an innocent smile on its lips, and sparks of dubious sincerity in its eyes. Sunny gritted his teeth.
'd.a.m.nation... I've only known you for a couple of days, but I am already starting to regret it. What is wrong with you, miscreant? Look at the other guys! None of them were ever problematic!'
To prove his point, Sunny gestured at the other shadows, who stared at him in response.
The gloomy shadow crossed its arms, as if trying to say... "Who are you pointing at, you idiot?"
The happy shadow nodded energetically, expressing something like "Of course! We would never cause problems for our Master! Master, you're the best!" with all its being.
The creepy shadow was staring at him with its usual creepy inexpressiveness, but its thoughts were easy to guess... it had to be something like "I wonder what it would feel like to slice the new guy open. What do his insides look like? What is the texture? Hmm... do shadows have insides? I want to know..."
The haughty shadows wore their usual arrogant look, radiating the "Keep me out of this plebeian conversation, peasant" feeling with their disdainful pose.
...The naughty shadow glanced at Sunny with amus.e.m.e.nt.
Sunny sighed.
'Alright. Point taken...'