Then, the lost prince was gone, leaving Sunny alone in the darkness once again.
He sighed.
"Me too. I hope I'll survive, too."
***
After Mordred disappeared, Sunny waited for a bit, and then broke the rule he had set for himself for a second time since starting this expedition — he summoned another Memory that should have been tied only to Mongrel.
The Mantle of the Underworld.
The intricate onyx armor weaved itself from sparks of darkness and covered him from head to toe. Sunny was not accustomed to wearing its closed helmet, since he was usually using Weaver's Mask instead, but it was not uncomfortable. His field of vision, however, became slightly constricted.
'Hopefully, no one will be able to see me this far into the abyss.'
Out here in the Sky Below, he felt as though no one, not even those who were attuned to revelations, could peer into his secrets and glean anything about them.
…The only exception to the rule was the Prince of Nothing himself. But he was gone now.
The Mantle possessed two enchantments that would most likely prove themselves to be extremely helpful soon. The [Stalwart] trait of the armor imbued it with high resistance against various types of elemental damage, including fire. Just seconds after donning it, Sunny felt the suffocating heat retreat, replaced by a pleasant coolness.
How long would that coolness last, he did not know.
The [Living Stone] enchantment, on the other hand, allowed the Mantle of the Underworld to repair itself while being worn. This trait would come into play later, helping Sunny protect himself even after the divine flame became intense enough to damage the onyx armor.
After that, Sunny summoned the dark longbow and the quiver of black arrows. By now, his hand had recovered enough for him to be able to draw the mighty bow… he just hoped that he would not need to.
Finally, he summoned the Cruel Sight and attached it to his belt.
…All preparations were now done.
Looking down through the narrow slit of the visor, Sunny sighed…
Now, everything depended on his resilience, luck… and how deep his reserves of shadow essence were.
***
In the stark darkness of the empty void, deeper than even the memories of a blue sky could reach, a cracked treasure chest was plummeting toward an ocean of searing white flames.
Its underside was bathed in the furious light, while its lid was drowning in the deepest of shadows. Wisps of smoke were slowly rising from its smoldering wood, and the strips of iron reinforcing it were slowly starting to glow as they turned orange.
Sunny, who had become a shadow and was once again hiding on the lid of the dead devil, felt fine… for now. Until the treasure chest was destroyed, he was protected from directly touching the light of the divine flame.
But how long would the corpse of the mimic last?
He was thinking about something else, though… something far more dreadful.
'The rift… the damned rift! I am going to miss it!'