The Shadow Legion had been pushed against the walls of the Dark Castle and diminished to barely a third of its size. The mist that threatened to swallow it had been held back by a appalling blizzard for a while, but now that the shadow of the Winter Beast was vanquished, it enveloped the world; the Defiled Seeker had fallen, and even the elusive Ember Queen was littered with grievous wounds.
Neither the shades nor the wraiths left bodies behind, and the Palace Island kept repairing itself no matter how terribly it was shattered and broken, but the battle that was taking place on its shores had been truly cataclysmic... more so than any battle Sunny had ever participated in.
And he was losing that battle.
His legion had been at a disadvantage to begin with, and that disadvantage continued to grow exponentially as more and more shades were vanquished. Things took a truly drastic turn only when he pulled back three of his incarnations, though.
Devoid of their support, the formation of the Shadow Legion started to melt at a dire speed.
But even that was not the most pressing issue.
‘That bastard...’
The most pressing issue was the Cursed Wanderer and the eerie sword he wielded — the Great Tyrant, Soul of Kanakht.
Before the Flesh of Kanakht arrived, that was.
Now that Jet was gone, there was no one left to stand in his way, which meant that he could utterly decimate the formation of the Shadow Legion. Worse still, the sinister apparition did not simply vanquish the shades — he could truly destroy them. Sunny could not allow that to happen.
The problem was that he did not have a lot of options left. The Shadow Legion was already barely holding on — or failing to hold on, rather — and very few of his warriors could slow down the Cursed Wanderer, let alone contend against him. Sunny could command Saint to bar his path, for example, but that would only cause the section of the formation she was supporting to collapse.
‘What to do?’
Did he have to face the great wraith personally?
Only two of his incarnations were outside the Palace. One was busy attaching Nightwalker to his wayward shadow, while the other was augmenting the Puppeteer. Sunny could potentially abandon the gigantic moth and manifest himself onto the battlefield, but that would mean surrendering precise control of the Shadow Legion. The result would be just as disastrous as doing nothing.
‘I just need to buy time.'
He considered his options feverishly, trying to determine the optimal solution, then rapidly settled on the best one.

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