The battlefield did not erupt back into chaos right away.
Instead, a strange, almost surreal lull settled over the area, as though even the Nightmare Gate needed a moment to process what had just happened. Its warped surface pulsed faintly, the edges trembling as if something inside was recalibrating after the abrupt annihilation of its first wave. The oppressive aura it emitted still weighed heavily on everyone present, pressing against their minds like a suffocating pressure, but for a few precious seconds, nothing emerged.
That brief stillness was all it took for reality to tip into something completely absurd.
Sunny was sitting comfortably in the middle of the battlefield.
Not on rubble, nor on a broken structure, but on a perfectly ordinary wooden chair that had no business existing in such a place. The Shadow Chair looked plain to the point of being almost disappointing, its simple design clashing with the carnage surrounding it. Its legs stood firmly atop ground drenched in blood, surrounded by the mangled remains of Nightmare Creatures that had been reduced to unrecognizable pieces.
Around him, the chaos had taken on an entirely different shape.
A Silvermane Guard knelt beside him, carefully polishing the toe of his boot with a cloth that had likely once been part of his uniform. Another stood behind him, hands moving with surprising skill as he worked out the tension in Sunny's shoulders, as if this were some noble's estate rather than the aftermath of a massacre. On his other side, an IPC soldier crouched low, both hands firmly pressing against Sunny's foot through his boot, applying pressure with focused intensity.
Somehow, someone had even brought him a drink.
Sunny had no idea where the glass of lemonade had come from, but it appeared in front of him with both hands offering it, as if presenting a sacred artifact.
"Sir Sunless, please… hydrate."
Sunny stared at the glass for a moment before taking it.
"…Thanks."
The moment he accepted it, the atmosphere around him shifted further.
At first, the voices were scattered, quiet murmurs of disbelief and admiration. Then they grew, building into something unified, something disturbingly coordinated.
"Sir Sunless!"
"Our savior!"
"The slayer of Nightmares!"
"The black storm of Belobog!"
Sunny took a slow sip of lemonade as the chorus of praise continued, his expression remaining mostly neutral despite the absurdity of the situation.
'I don't particularly want to be in the spotlight…'
His gaze drifted across the battlefield, where soldiers who had been on the brink of collapse now stood taller, their exhaustion pushed aside not just by Bronya's Aspect but by something far less tangible. Their eyes kept returning to him, filled with a kind of awe that bordered on reverence.
'…but this isn't too bad.'
He leaned back slightly into the Shadow Chair, allowing himself a brief moment of indulgence as the tension in his body eased under the careful work of the soldier behind him. For a fleeting second, the situation almost felt natural.
Almost.
The problem wasn't the attention itself. It was what came with it.
Sunny's expression dimmed slightly as his thoughts shifted to something far more serious.
A True Name.
The Nightmare Spell did not grant those lightly. It was a mark of recognition, a declaration that someone had reached a level beyond the ordinary. It was status, power, and influence all at once.
It was also a vulnerability.
His fingers tightened slightly around the glass as the implications settled in his mind. If people began to connect the dots — if they started to see him not just as 'Sir Sunless' but as something exceptional — it wouldn't take long before the wrong kind of attention found him. And if someone discovered his True Name…
Shadow Bond would make him theirs.
He exhaled quietly, forcing the thought aside.
It didn't matter.
That possibility had already been compromised long ago. Whatever anonymity he might have once had had been shattered back on the Forgotten Shore. Even if he didn't remember the exact details, he knew enough to understand that whatever his past self had done there had completely destroyed any chance of remaining unnoticed. Then, there was finishing off a Supreme Titan's vessel in front of multiple Saints, along with other events...
Now, he was sitting in the middle of a battlefield while soldiers practically worshipped him.
There was no going back from that.
Besides, there was another factor that made the situation far less concerning.
He already had a master.
The name surfaced in his mind with an odd sense of certainty.
AR-26710... or Sam.
There were no clear memories, no defining moments he could grasp, and yet the certainty remained. The bond existed, whether he understood it or not.
For some reason, he wasn't worried.
Someone capable of binding him in the first place wasn't the kind of being that would simply die. The very idea felt ridiculous, even without any logical proof to support it.
As long as Sam existed, no one else could claim him.
That was strangely reassuring.
Sunny took another sip of lemonade, letting the cold sweetness settle on his tongue.
"…You're pressing too hard."
The IPC soldier immediately flinched and adjusted his grip.
"My apologies, Sir Sunless!"
Sunny gave a small nod, then shifted his gaze again.
This time, it landed on Bronya.
She stood a short distance away, speaking with Gepard. Her posture remained composed, but there was a tension in her shoulders that hadn't been there before. Gepard, on the other hand, looked visibly shaken.
His jaw was clenched tightly, his shoulders rigid, and there was something in his eyes that didn't belong on a battlefield. It wasn't fear or anger, but something heavier — something that lingered beneath the surface like a wound that hadn't had time to bleed yet.
Sunny frowned slightly.
That didn't look good.
A moment later, Gepard nodded. It wasn't a confident motion, nor was it decisive. It was the kind of nod someone gave when there were no good choices left, and they had chosen one anyway.
Bronya said something in response, her voice low and controlled, before turning away.
Sunny blinked once, then stood.
The Shadow Chair beneath him dissolved instantly into black sparks that scattered into the air and vanished. The sudden loss of his seat caused a brief moment of confusion among the soldiers attending to him.
The IPC soldier still holding his foot looked up in alarm.
"Let go."
The command was simple and immediate.
The soldier released him at once, stepping back and snapping into a salute without hesitation.
Sunny paused for a brief moment, observing the reaction.
That level of obedience was… interesting.
He didn't dwell on it. It was to expected of an IPC grunt.
Turning, he walked toward Bronya, stepping over corpses and shattered stone as if it were nothing more than uneven ground. The soldiers parted for him instinctively, creating a clear path without needing to be told.
Bronya noticed him approaching and braced slightly.
"So, what was that all about?"
Sunny's tone was casual, but his gaze was sharp.
Bronya did not answer immediately. She stood there for a moment, her expression distant, as if replaying something in her mind. Then she exhaled slowly before speaking in a voice that was far too calm.
"Serval is dead."
Sunny stopped.
"What?"
The word came out sharper than intended.
Bronya's expression did not change.
"I found her frozen corpse in my mother's room."
There was a brief pause before Sunny's expression shifted.
"Oh."
The shock faded into something more measured as he processed the information.
"That makes sense."
Bronya's gaze sharpened.
"What is it?"
Sunny scratched the side of his head, making a strange face.
"…Your mom turned into a Corrupted Beast. Saint is fighting her right now."
Silence followed.
Bronya didn't react immediately. Instead, something quieter settled over her expression, something that had likely been forming long before this moment.
She smiled, though there was no joy in it.
"I thought it was something like that."
Her gaze lowered slightly.
"Perhaps… sparing her wasn't the right choice."
Sunny didn't answer.
There wasn't anything useful to say.
Gepard had lost his sister. Bronya had lost her mother. The circumstances were different, but the result was the same.
Loss was loss.
After a moment, Sunny turned away. There were more immediate concerns to deal with.
The Nightmare Gate pulsed again in the distance, its surface shifting as something inside began to stir. The lull was coming to an end.
Sunny summoned the Shadow Chair once more, but instead of sitting, he stood on it. In his hand, the Extraordinary Rock appeared, its dull surface betraying nothing of its true function.
He raised it, and a moment later, his voice echoed across the battlefield, amplified far beyond normal limits.
"Listen up, mongrels!"
Every head turned toward him.
"Don't get complacent just because I dealt with that Dormant trash. The next waves are different."
His gaze swept across them.
"Awakened and Fallen Nightmare Creatures... those things might actually be able to ignore me."
The crowd shifted, tension returning.
"Kill anything that gets past me. Don't hesitate. If it moves and it's ugly, put it down."
He paused briefly before continuing.
"And if a Corrupted Beast steps out of that Gate… run."
That statement drew a reaction.
The IPC soldiers remained silent, but the Silvermane Guards did not.
"No."
Gepard stepped forward, his massive shield at his side.
"Sir Sunless, we appreciate your concern, but this is our home. This fight is personal."
His grip tightened.
"We will not abandon it."
There was sorrow in his eyes, but also unwavering resolve.
Sunny stared at him for a moment, then shrugged.
"Go ahead and die, then."
At that exact moment, the Nightmare Gate shifted.
The first Awakened Beast stepped through.
Its elongated, lizard-like body slithered forward, covered in onyx scales that reflected no light. Its hollow eye sockets somehow conveyed awareness as it entered the battlefield.
Then another followed.
And another.
Sunny dismissed both the Shadow Chair and the Extraordinary Rock as Hail Sorrow appeared in his hand once more. He rolled his shoulders lightly, preparing himself.
'Looks like the Gate's trademark species is here…'
The battlefield tensed.
Beyond the walls of Belobog, a different battle raged.
Saint stood like a dark colossus, her towering form clashing against Cocolia in a storm of ice and steel. Serpent, in its greatsword form, met wave after wave of frozen weapons as they rained down from the sky.
The air screamed with each collision.
Saint moved with relentless precision, weaving through attacks that should have been impossible to avoid. When she couldn't evade them, she met them head-on, her shield intercepting or her blade shattering them mid-flight.
Frost spread across her armor, cracks forming that revealed glimpses of alabaster skin beneath, along with the faint shimmer of ruby dust that replaced her blood.
She was taking damage.
But her soul remained untouched.
Her mind, unbroken.
Serpent was unaffected as well, its nature as a Soul Weapon rendering Cocolia's corruptive influence meaningless.
Cocolia herself was something else entirely.
She moved with a terrifying combination of instinct and retained skill, her Corrupted body reshaping itself with every motion. Ice regenerated what was lost, her form adapting as if Destruction meant nothing.
She lunged forward at breakneck speed.
Saint met her attack without hesitation.
Their weapons collided, sending a shockwave through the frozen ground that shattered the terrain beneath them.
In a single, fluid motion, Saint adjusted her stance and struck.
Cocolia's arm was severed cleanly.
For a brief moment, there was stillness.
Then a new arm formed, ice condensing and reshaping into a perfect replacement.
Saint's ruby gaze intensified.
She tilted her head slightly, as if acknowledging something.
At last, this opponent could offer resistance.
At last, there was a challenge.