Shadow Slave novel Chapter 1859

Far away and beyond reach, a vast expanse of rolling water was glistening under the starlit sky. Black clouds were flowing like tattered banners, torn apart by the violent winds.

Colossal waves were rising and falling, each taller than a fortress wall. Countless bolts of lightning were flashing, branching as they struck the restless surface of the water.

Illuminated by the veil of lightning that connected its numerous masts to the stars, a titanic ship was waging a war against the storm.

The ship was at least a kilometer across from port to starboard, but seemed narrow because of its great length. Its ancient hull was made of wood, but had no seams — it was as if the entire vessel had been created by hollowing out a single branch that spanned more than a dozen kilometers from end to end.

Although, if there was a tree with branches so immense, severing one would not have been an easy feat. Fashioning a ship out of it would not have been a task for mortals, either.

The titanic ship was like a city in and of itself. There were dozens of decks, beautiful palaces and tall pagodas built on its surface, and great mysteries hiding in its boundless holds. There were wild groves, rushing streams, and deep lakes.

And people.

This was Night Garden, the great Citadel of the House of Night.

Despite the furious force of the storm, which would have destroyed any other vessel, the Night Garden was moving through turbulent waters with daunting, unstoppable ease. The colossal waves were cut apart by its proud bow and broke powerlessly against its indestructible hull. The branching bolts of lightning struck its masts and were absorbed by them, empowering the ancient ship.

The terrible abominations that rose from unfathomable depths from time to time to attack the great vessel were consumed by it, becoming parts of its living hull.

Even in a region of the Dream Realm as strange and deadly as the Stormsea, the people populating the Night Garden were relatively safe.

Tonight, however…

Human blood was spilled on its deck, flowing like a river.

The blood was absorbed by the ancient ship, as well.

"What… what are you doing…"

Close to the bow of the ship, an old man was crawling across the deck, leaving a bloody trail in his wake. His voice was full of pain, confusion, and sorrowful disbelief.

There was a younger man following him with unhurried steps, holding a bloodied knife in his hand.

There was no emotion on the younger man's face, and no mercy in his eyes.

He shrugged.

"You didn't have to be stubborn, old man. This could all have been avoided."

Behind him, a desperate scream tore apart the howling of the storm, and then stopped abruptly. There were more screams further away, some of them full of fear, some of them full of rage.

But with each minute, there were less and less of them.

The old man gritted his teeth.

"You've lost your mind!"

His killer sighed, then rubbed his face tiredly with a bloodied hand. For a moment, he seemed incredibly exhausted, a spark of some unknown emotion finally finding its way into his eyes.

"Have I? Ah, I'll admit… there might be some merit to your argument."

With that, he leaned down, grabbed the old man by the ankle, and dragged him back while raising the knife.

"...But then again, who hasn't?"

The old man looked at him with horror.

His lips trembled.

"You! You are not my son!" _{fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm}

The younger man froze for a moment, then suddenly chuckled.

The hint of emotion drained from his eyes, leaving only terrible coldness.

"Aye. I've heard that one before…"

The knife fell down like the guillotine's blade.

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