While the battered incarnation was tending to the Naless Temple, another one was in the great hall of the ruined cathedral — which had beco sowhat of a forge now.
At the far end, under the watchful gaze of the Naless Goddess, the somber shadow of the King of Swords was forging an enormous breastplate. He was using the altar as an anvil, while the material he forged to create the giant suit of armor was manifested shadows. His hamr rose and fell, shaping the shadows into form…
The forr King's face was still and impassive, and his gaze was strangely both full of cold intelligence and empty, lacking the spark of life. He still retained his subli skill as a blacksmith and artisan, as well as the keen judgnt necessary to employ it, but not the will and spirit that made one a person.
The shadow of Anvil had neither desires nor emotions, existing in a tranquil state of silent emptiness.
Still… he looked at peace, almost content, having been given a chance to dedicate himself to his craft even in death. At least Sunny thought so after observing the shadow of Anvil for countless days.
Initially, he had wanted to destroy it. Sunny knew that losing the shadow of a Supre being would be a great loss for the Shadow Legion, even if it lacked the Will. But he had still wanted to get rid of Anvil's shadow purely out of spite, feeling that its re presence was tainting his soul.
Yet he eventually decided against it.
Then, he wanted to send the royal shade onto the battlefield. In the end, Sunny decided that the best use for Anvil's shadow was this — toiling as the blacksmith for the growing Shadow Legion.
Sunny crafted the mories for the mbers of the Shadow Clan himself, but the shadow legionnaires dwelling in his soul were too many, and different from Awakened humans as well.
None of them possessed the ability to own and summon mories. Many of them, however, needed weapons and armor — the human shades like Solvane, Daeron, and the seven Saints of the Song Domain he had slain especially. They had lost their own mory arsenals before coming to rest in his soul, after all, and were therefore forced to fight barehand as his shadow soldiers.
The shadows of the Nightmare Creatures were less disadvantaged in that regard, being that their main weapons were their fangs, claws, talons, mandibles, and various limbs that Sunny did not know the nas of. That did not an that they could not benefit from forged equipnt, though.
What was worse than a monstrous beast? A monstrous beast clad in an impenetrable suit of armor was, for sure. And while being torn by a claw was quite bad, being sliced apart by a claw encased in a sheath of sharpened steel was worse.
Sunny's solution to this problem was to make the forr Sovereign a weapon master and armorer of the Shadow Legion. So, the shadow of Anvil now resided in the ruined cathedral, forging shadows into weapons and suits of fearso armor.
Sunny had moved his own workshop and laboratory here, as well — there was plenty of space, and soone had to guard Slayer in her underground cell, anyway.
Crafting the mories for the Shadow Clan had been a big undertaking — not because they were particularly hard to craft, but simply due to the sheer volu. So of these exquisite mories, like the Black Canteen — the heir of Rain's trusty Green Canteen — were standard-issue and given to each mber of the clan.
Others looked similar, but were actually carefully designed and tuned to fit the Aspects of the Shadow Clan mbers — like the suits of armor Sunny created, each containing a reservoir he personally filled with shadow essence, thus allowing even Awakened to use powerful life-saving enchantnts in cases of ergency.
The set of mories for Corsair was already complete. The Shadow Clan had been watching the prospective recruit for so ti, after all, and Sunny already knew all about his Aspect with Cassie's help.
So, at the mont, Sunny was busy with sothing else.
He was slowly walking across the dark expanse of the ruined cathedral's great hall, looking up with a look of contemplation on his face.
Above him, an infinity of black strands created a vast, srizing pattern — a pattern that was as grandiose as it was daunting, filling the entire length of the great hall and reaching all the way to its ceiling far above.
The pattern was not made out of strings of shadow essence. Instead, it was made simply from manifested shadows.
It was a model of the weave Sunny had been developing for a long ti, made visible to ease the burden on his overly taxed mind.
Looking at a particular area of the intricate pattern, Sunny sighed.
"The last solution caused more problems to reveal themselves, huh?"
The weave he was designing was ant to beco the foundation of his own shadowbound mory — a charm that all his incarnations would be able to use.
Unlike how it had happened with the Blessing, there was no Spell to help finish the process this ti. So, Sunny had to oversee the entire process himself from start to finish. Considering how many precious resources would go into crafting the charm, he wanted to be extra confident that they would not be wasted.
Looking at the problematic elent of the vast weave, Sunny allowed the asured ringing of the dead King's hamr to wash over him and commanded the stands of shadows to rearrange themselves, forming a new pattern.
Then, he scrutinized it with a somber expression.
Eventually, a faint smile illuminated his face.
"That's better. Now, on to the next problem."
There were still many problematic areas of the imnse and astoundingly complicated weave, but he was nearing the completion of the ambitious design. Once he did, his power and versatily would hopefully be substantially enhanced.
…Far away, the last two incarnations of Sunny were busy doing sothing else.
They were waging war on the Burned Forest.
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