Savior in Shadow Slave

When Lucas awoke, hours had passed.

The fire was long dead. The Centurion's body lay sprawled across shattered rock, still steaming in places. The air reeked of scorched chitin and blood.

He sat up slowly, every bone aching. His rope was frayed. His armor dented in two more places. His throat burned from smoke he hadn't even realized he'd inhaled.

But he was alive.

And more than that—he'd received an Awakened Memory of Tier II.

Memory: Starlight Region Armor

Rank: Awakened

Type: Armor

Description: [Born in the all-consuming darkness, seven valiant heroes made an oath to return light to the cursed land. Time has erased their names and faces, but the memory of their defiant oath still remains.]

He dismissed his battered armor and summoned the Starlight Region Armor.

Crimson plate shimmered into place over a sleek black bodysuit—light, elegant, and battle-ready. Greaves, vambraces, articulated pauldrons, rerebraces, cuisses, and sabatons locked into position, each piece shaped with flawless precision. The breastplate bore the engraving of seven radiant stars across the chest—short enough not to hinder movement.

A helmet crowned the set, crowned with a striking red plume. The star motif matched exactly those carved into the giant knight statue's cuirass—echoes of a forgotten oath, now reborn in steel and memory.

A smile bloomed on his face.

"Just when I needed it. I guess I really am 'lucky'."

But even as the warmth of triumph settled in his chest, a quiet weight lingered beneath it—fatigue, uncertainty, and the knowledge that survival was never guaranteed.

Three days passed.

He moved with purpose, venturing in and out of the cave, slowly piecing together a map of the terrain. The landscape offered no comfort—only jagged cliffs, shadowed corals, and silence broken only by the occasional rustle of unseen things. Yet he pressed on, driven by the quiet discipline of someone who couldn't afford to falter.

In that time, he earned an Awakened Memory of the First Tier. He also found three soul shards. When he absorbed their essence, a subtle shift passed through him. His soul core saturation climbed to 23%.

It wasn't much. But it was something. A step forward.

And in this place, even the smallest step felt like defiance.

'I need to leave this place. If something like the Centurion—or worse—shows up, I won't survive.'

Unlike the statue, which all the creatures instinctively avoided, the cave held no such deterrent. Whatever protection the statue offered didn't extend here. And so, the next day, Lucas quietly left the cave behind.

***

It had been four days since he departed from the cliffs. In that time, much had changed—yet many things remained stubbornly the same.

He moved from one high vantage point to another, always heading west. Not out of some grand revelation, but because the statue's severed head had faced that direction. The Dark Sea, too, seemed to rise from the western horizon. It was a small thread to follow, but in a world like this, even fragments mattered.

Lucas had a gut feeling that the statue wasn't just a ruin—it was part of something larger. Perhaps even a key to this place. The Starlight Region Armor's description had mentioned seven heroes. Seven stars. Seven oaths. If the statue was one of them, there had to be six more.

He wasn't just walking anymore. He was searching.

His approach to traversing the labyrinth had changed as well. Before, he'd gone out of his way to avoid conflict—evading scavengers unless cornered or faced with a lone straggler. But the battle with the Centurion had left a mark deeper than just bruises or scars.

It had shown him the truth.

Avoiding danger wouldn't make him stronger. And strength was no longer a luxury—it was a necessity.

He had to grow. And he had to do it fast.

So now, instead of avoiding the Carapace Scavengers, he hunted them.

They weren't easy prey. Each stood nearly two and a half meters tall, grotesque blends of demon, crab, centaur—and nightmare. Four pairs of long, jointed legs sprouted from thick lower bodies, ending in razor-edged scythe-like blades that hissed as they scraped across the stone. At the front of their armoured forms, a humanoid torso jutted forward, thickly clad in chitinous plating that flexed as they moved.

There were no necks—only heads rising directly from the torsos. Slit-like eyes glowed faintly above glistening mandibles, slick with mucus and something darker. Where hands should have been, two monstrous pincers twitched in anticipation, strong enough to crack boulders.

But Lucas had changed.

From a ridge above a half-collapsed ravine, he waited in silence, his body pressed against the rock, barely breathing. Below, three Scavengers circled a broken ruin that jutted from the earth.

With his last shard-stone, he hurled a sharp toss toward a pile of debris on the far edge of the ravine.

The clang echoed.

Two of the creatures turned sharply, skittering toward the noise with terrifying speed, legs clicking like the clatter of a hundred blades.

Lucas acted instantly.

He dropped down into the ravine, landing hard behind the third one. Before it could turn, he drove his blade toward the soft joint beneath its chitin—but the blow glanced off, sparks flying.

Too thick.

It shrieked—an awful, metallic screech—and spun with one pincer lashing toward his head.

He ducked, rolled, and came up behind it again. The Starlight Region Armor dulled the glancing blow of its other pincer as it clipped his side, but the impact still rattled him. Pain bloomed along his ribs.

Lucas gritted his teeth and moved fast. He drew his secondary blade, driving it into the creature's side, just below where the torso met the carapace. A hiss of black blood sprayed out, steaming as it hit the ground.

It reeled, but didn't fall. Atleast not yet.

The other two were already returning.

He cursed under his breath and activated the armor's passive burst—an instant release of kinetic energy. It threw the wounded beast back, just enough to give him space.

[You have slain an Awakened Beast, Carapace Scavenger]

The second creature lunged, pincers snapping. Lucas ducked under one, vaulted onto a jagged boulder, and launched himself toward its face. His blade caught the space between its eye slits—and slid deep.

The body spasmed, legs twitching.

[You have slain an Awakened Beast, Carapace Scavenger]

But the third came behind him. Too fast.

A pincer clamped down on his leg.

Pain exploded up his thigh as he was slammed into the ground.

His vision blurred. The world tilted.

Move.

Adrenaline and desperation surged. He twisted, kicked, drove his dagger between its mandibles as it leaned in to finish him.

It shrieked and reared back, giving him just enough space to slip free, leaving behind a smear of blood and a piece of shredded armor.

He rolled, grabbed his main blade, and drove it into the base of its skull—if it even had one.

It finally stilled.

[You have slain an Awakened Beast, Carapace Scavenger]

The fight was over.

Lucas collapsed to one knee, breath ragged, armor cracked and slick with ichor and his own blood. His leg throbbed. His ribs ached. But the monsters were dead.

As their bodies twitched and fell still, fragments of glowing light drifted within them—Soul Shards, dense and humming with power.

He absorbed them with a shaking hand.

His Soul Core Saturation rose to 27%.

Not much. But enough.

'I'm still alive', he thought, panting.

And in this cursed place, that was a victory.