Shadow Slave : Shadow Clan

Oliva PoV

The cold was gone.

Everything was heat. Pressure. Blinding flashes of movement and tension so sharp it made her bones ache.

But Nephis couldn't look away.

She stood there, frozen, her legs trembling beneath her white dress, her sword forgotten by her side. The courtyard around her was becoming a battlefield—but her eyes, wide and disbelieving, were fixed on Olivia.

She wasn't human anymore.

She moved like a memory unchained—strings bursting from her arms, her back, her very breath, silver arcs slicing the world apart. They cut through the air with impossible precision, dancing like serpents, singing like steel, and yet moving as if they were one with Olivia's heartbeat.

Nephis watched as two Ascended warriors lunged, weapons gleaming.

She didn't see what Olivia did.

She only saw the aftermath.

Bodies crumpling, torn through as if the strings had never been there. No flash. No warning. Only silence—and death.

Nephis gasped, staggering back, nearly slipping on the frost-dusted stone.

She's not just strong…

She's something else.

Something terrifying.

Frank laughed somewhere in the fog. "You think strings will stop me? I was chosen. I AM—!"

A snap.

A blur of silver light.

Olivia appeared before Frank without a sound—her hand outstretched, strings wrapped around his neck in a noose of shimmering death.

But he wasn't like the others.

The mark on his chest glowed.

With a crack of energy, his hand shot up, shattering the threads mid-air with divine force.

Nephis stumbled again as the shockwave threw up shards of shattered stone.

Olivia was blown back—her boots carving deep lines in the ground as she slid, stopped, and exhaled. Her cloak fluttered like a torn flag, her eyes never leaving Frank.

"You broke them," she whispered.

Frank straightened, brushing off the dust. "I told you. The Heart God favors me. Your tricks are—"

A flash.

She was already there again.

The strings came not from her arms, but from her shadow, from the folds of her coat, from the glint of her pupils—dozens of dimensional threads, each one layered with ki, wrapped around each of Frank's limbs.

He grunted in surprise—but not pain.

His body resisted. Like it didn't bleed properly. Like the Heart inside him kept stitching him together.

"You're not just favored," Olivia said coldly, "You're possessed."

"Maybe," Frank said, chuckling darkly, as his allies surrounded them. "But I'm alive. And you're outnumbered."

Nephis clenched her fists, stepping forward. "She's not alone."

Frank's gaze turned.

"Ah… the heir speaks." He tilted his head mockingly. "Going to help her, little flame? You think you matter? You were raised by a broken man in a crumbling clan."

"I matter," Nephis said, her voice steady despite the quake in her knees. "Because she came for me. Because I have people who care."

Her eyes met Olivia's.

And Olivia… smiled.

Not the composed, regal smile of the Shadow Matron.

But something soft.

Proud.

Then the smile disappeared.

"Nephis," she said, voice low. "Don't move."

Nephis didn't get the chance to ask why.

Because eight of the remaining Ascended surged forward, faster than arrows. Spears, halberds, swords, all aimed at Olivia's heart.

Nephis screamed—"NO!"

But Olivia wasn't standing still.

The strings exploded.

The whole world went silent.

It was like a hurricane of silk and blood.

One breath. One heartbeat. Eight lives ended.

The spell whisper 

[You have Killed an Ascended Human]

[You have Killed an Ascended Human]

[You have Killed an Ascended Human]

[You have Killed an Ascended Human]

[You have Killed an Ascended Human]

[You have Killed an Ascended Human]

[You have Killed an Ascended Human]

[You have Killed an Ascended Human]

Olivia's body blurred through the snow, slicing through every angle—her strings lifting bodies, cutting weapons in half, even rewinding the path of their own blades to strike their owners.

Blood painted the white snow in curved lines.

Nephis could only cover her mouth.

Is this… what it means to be Transcended?

The last remaining man—Frank—looked less amused now.

"You really are insane," he muttered. "You'd kill your own kin just to protect her."

"She is kin," Olivia said, stepping forward. Her voice was steel now. "I will raze the clans to protect her sh's like my daughter."

Nephis froze.

Daughter?

Frank spat blood. "We'll see. This is only the beginning."

The heart on his chest pulsed—and in the next instant, his body burst into divine smoke, vanishing into the cold.

Gone.

Silence fell.

Only the snow remained.

Nephis couldn't move. She couldn't speak.

Olivia turned back to her, her cloak soaked in blood, her eyes softening again. She opened her arms.

Without thinking, Nephis ran forward and collapsed into them, shaking.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't know. I didn't know how alone I was until I saw you standing there."

Olivia held her tightly.

"You're not alone anymore," she whispered back. "I will never let them take you. Never."

And in that burning, blood-stained night, Nephis finally believed her.

—-#

The mansion's gates opened with a low groan as Olivia's black bike pulled into the courtyard, its tires crackling softly over frostbitten stone. The engine cut off. Snowflakes drifted lazily down, catching in her hair as she dismounted.

Behind her, held tight in her arms, was Nephis.

She was still trembling.

Still wearing the same white dress, now stained faintly with ash and old blood. Her eyes, once like clouds lit from within, were distant—haunted. The kind of stare that had seen too much and didn't know how to survive it.

The front doors burst open.

"Mom!" Rain came running out in her slippers, arms wide.

Sunny followed closely behind, his eyes searching, tense—until they found Nephis.

His heart stopped.

"…Neph," he whispered, his voice low, uncertain.

She looked up.

Her expression tried to form a smile—tried—but it cracked halfway. Her lips quivered, and something inside her fell apart.

She didn't say anything.

Didn't need to.

Sunny stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her without a word. He held her tight, gently, like she might shatter in his hands. And she did—her arms looped around him slowly, her forehead resting against his shoulder as the tears finally fell.

Rain, watching from the steps, covered her mouth and stepped back.

"I've got her," Sunny said quietly, meeting his mother's eyes.

Olivia, still cloaked in cold and blood, nodded once. Her voice was hoarse. "Take her upstairs. Let her rest. Don't ask… not yet."

Sunny nodded.

He gently pulled away and took Nephis by the hand. She didn't let go. Didn't say anything. She just let him guide her into the warm house, past the welcoming hearth, and up the staircase.

Their fingers intertwined the entire time.

He opened the door for her.

Nephis walked inside slowly, like each step weighed a hundred pounds. She looked around—same place, same bed she had visited before—but everything felt distant now. Different.

"I can go if you want to be alone," Sunny offered gently.

Her hand tugged on his.

"No," she whispered, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Stay."

He sat beside her. Close enough for warmth, but far enough to give her space.

She stared forward for a long time.

"I don't know what to feel," she said finally. Her voice was thin, fragile—so unlike her. "It's like everything inside me is… echoing. Hollow."

Sunny didn't answer. He just reached out and took her hand again.

She looked at him.

And for the first time since they were children, she leaned her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes.

"I don't want to think," she said.

"Then don't," he murmured. "Just breathe."

And together, in the quiet winter evening, they sat like that, the room holding them in silence.

The room was still.

Only the low hum of the heating vents whispered through the silence. Outside, snow gathered on the windowsill, soft and slow, like time itself was trying not to disturb them.

Sunny sat back against the headboard, legs folded loosely over the comforter. The lamps were dimmed now—only a warm golden glow painted the room in softness.

Nephis hadn't moved much since sitting beside him.

But then, without a word, she slowly shifted.

Her head gently lowered onto his lap.

Sunny froze—not in shock, but in something more delicate. His breath caught slightly as her pale hair brushed his black shirt, her weight warm and light against him. She curled slightly, one hand resting against her own chest as her lashes fluttered closed.

"…Is this okay?" she asked, her voice quiet, nearly inaudible.

Sunny looked down at her.

The girl who had always been strong.

The girl who stood beside him through grief, loss, life, and battle.

The girl who had never asked for comfort… until now.

He brushed a strand of silver-white hair from her face and spoke gently.

"Yeah," he said. "It's okay."

Nephis's lips curved faintly—not quite a smile, but not far from it. She didn't say anything else.

They sat in silence for a time.

The kind of silence that didn't need to be filled.

Sunny glanced at her face as her breathing slowed—steady now. Her expression was calm, if still weighed by sorrow. But she looked… safe.

For a brief moment, he wondered what it meant.

To want to protect someone like this.

To feel his heart beat heavier, not from panic—but something warmer. Quieter.

"Sunny?" her voice stirred again, barely above a whisper.

"Yeah?"

"…Why are you always there when I break?"

His hand found hers gently. Their fingers laced again.

"Because you were there when I did," he answered simply.

She opened her eyes and looked up at him, her head still resting on his lap.

"…You remember?"

He nodded. "Every time."

Nephis didn't reply.

Instead, she squeezed his hand and closed her eyes again.

This time, sleep came easier.

And Sunny just sat there, guarding her peace like it was the most precious thing in the world.

——

Sunny's POV:

The silence in the room deepened.

Nephis lay peacefully on his lap now, her breath soft, lashes casting gentle shadows across her pale cheeks. The faintest light from the snow outside painted her in silver, like something ethereal—fragile and radiant, all at once.

Sunny stared down at her, one hand lightly resting on her shoulder, the other still holding hers. His thumb traced the faint pulse in her wrist, steady and alive.

And slowly, something in him settled.

Something clicked.

This wasn't the same rush he felt when Cassie teased him. It wasn't confusion, or nerves, or some wild flutter of a first crush.

This was quieter.

Deeper.

Painful… and beautiful.

Because when she cried, it hurt him.

When she was in danger, he couldn't breathe.

When she smiled, even through tears… it felt like the world had light again.

Sunny blinked, realizing how warm his eyes had gotten.

"…So this is love," he whispered to himself.

Not loud.

Just honest.

It wasn't a fantasy, or a game.

It was a promise.

Something heavy and sacred.

His grip on her hand tightened, not possessively—but protectively.

"I'll be your shadow," he thought. "Not the kind that hides you… the kind that surrounds you. Guards you. That stands between you and the world when it tries to take more from you."

His gaze flicked to the window.

The snow had begun to fall harder now, a quiet storm beginning to brew in the darkness beyond.

But in this room, warmth lived.

Nephis stirred slightly in her sleep, pressing her face into his lap with a quiet sigh. A trust so complete it made Sunny's chest ache.

He looked down again, brushing her hair back.

"I'll protect you," he whispered, "from everyone… even from fate."

And in that moment, the boy who had once stood small before the abyss…

…became someone willing to stand against it.

For her.