Shadow Slave: Heir of the daemons

When he came to, Ray was astounded by the sight before him. It was as if history itself was playing out in a time lapse right in front of him.

Ruins reconstructed themselves into towering buildings. Streets filled with people, their movements fluid and natural, as if this city had always been alive. Children ran through the alleys, laughing, while armored men in strange yet familiar clothing moved purposefully toward a massive, ominous block in the city's heart. The structure loomed over everything, its purpose unclear, but its significance undeniable.

Where the hell am I? The thought struck Ray as he took in the people around him. Their attire resembled styles from long-lost eras, though he had no clear reference for how long ago those times had been. Knowledge of history before the spell's emergence was tightly controlled, guarded by powerful clans and governments.

"Hey! Stop daydreaming and get moving!"

A hoarse voice snapped him out of his daze. Turning, he found a group of rough-looking, heavily armed men staring at him.

"Oh, sorry. You guys go ahead. I guess I got lost in thought," Ray said with a forced smile, still struggling to grasp where he had landed.

The leader scoffed. "Alright, whatever. Just don't get in our way. Come on, we need to be the first to clear the labyrinth!"

The group left without another word, disappearing into the crowd. As their figures faded, Ray took a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts. His aunt's teachings came rushing back, grounding him.

Finding a relatively quiet spot on the side of the street, he sat down and focused inward. He called upon his runes, the spell's mark upon his very being, to assess what he had become.

Name: Ray Brown 

True Name: —— 

Rank: Aspirant 

Soul Core: Dormant 

Memories: [؆؆vx§~⟐⤫] 

Echoes: —— 

Attributes: [Traceless], [Spark of Divinity], [Heir of Oblivion] 

Aspect: [Unknown Slayer] 

Aspect Description: [The one to decide over the lives of many, yet also the one no one will remember. How may the slayer walk this path, will he walk his own lonesome way, or will he find the destined ones?]

Ray stared at the words, disbelief washing over him. "Unknown Slayer?" he muttered under his breath. "You've got to be kidding me. What does this even mean, the one to decide over the lives of many?? What am I, a god? Never mind, they should be dead."

His aunt had warned him that the spell played strange games with those caught in its grasp. But this? This was beyond absurd.

And then there was the matter of the memory. He shouldn't have one, yet he did. More troubling was its incomprehensible name. The runes hadn't translated it, which meant it didn't belong to the spell.

Ray sighed, rubbing his temples. "Nothing about this makes sense. The city, my aspect, that damn labyrinth... Even my memories are playing tricks on me."

His aunt's words echoed in his mind: Don't try to understand the spell. The greatest minds of our time have failed to explain its workings. It simply is.

Accepting that for now, he refocused. The labyrinth. It had been a ruin before, but now it was the center of a thriving city. And yet, something told him that this place would eventually become desolate once more. That meant whatever happened in the labyrinth was crucial.

Determined, he got up and approached a passerby for information.

"Excuse me, sir, could you spare a moment? I'm a traveler, new to this city, and I heard something about a labyrinth."

The man gave him a curious look before nodding. "Strange to come here without knowing about it, but alright. The labyrinth is the reason this city exists. It appeared one day, and ever since, people have been entering in search of riches and glory."

Ray listened intently.

"No one has ever cleared it," the man continued, "but many have survived and returned with treasures beyond imagination. The thing is, every person who enters describes it differently. Some say it's alive, shifting and responding to those inside." He hesitated, lowering his voice. "If it isn't just some creation of the gods themselves…"

Ray mulled over the information before thanking the man and heading toward the labyrinth's plaza.

The scene was overwhelming. Groups of adventurers filled the space, preparing themselves, adjusting armor, checking weapons. The line to enter the labyrinth stretched for nearly fifty meters, yet it moved at a steady pace.

Ray noted an important detail - everyone was in a group. He needed one, too, unless he wanted to walk into an unknown challenge alone. Next, everyone he saw had some kind of armor and a weapon. That meant he either had to figure out what that strange memory was - or find some gear the old-fashioned way. 

Stealing it is, then. Haaa… well, it's not like these people are even real, right? No hard feelings… probably? If I want to be fully prepared, I should at least get a sword, a pole arm, and a bow or something. 

With his mind made up, Ray started scanning the plaza for easy targets. But with so many people around, trying to swipe something unnoticed was out of the question. So, he moved away from the crowd, slipping into the side streets in search of a better opportunity. 

After wandering for about twenty minutes, he finally stumbled across something promising. In a dimly lit alley, a group of thugs had cornered an old man. 

Ray slowed his steps, his instincts kicking in. Was this his aspect influencing him, or just his own sense of justice? Either way, he found himself edging closer, quietly picking up a small pipe from the ground and scooping up some dirt into his other hand—just in case. 

"Just hand over your valuables, old man, and we won't have to hurt you!" one of the thugs sneered. 

"Yeah," another chimed in. "You're too damn old to be carrying this kind of gear anyway." 

The old man let out a slow chuckle. "Ohoho, youngsters these days… Did your mothers never teach you to respect your elders?" 

Ray frowned. This was just pathetic. Robbing an old man? Really? He tensed, ready to intervene. 

But before he could move, something unexpected happened. 

The old man smirked. A second later, the thugs collapsed like puppets with their strings cut, hitting the ground with a series of dull thuds. 

Ray blinked. "Huh? What just-" 

"Don't worry, kiddo," the old man said, waving a hand dismissively. "They're just sleeping. But I appreciate the thought." He gave Ray a knowing smile before turning to leave. "Consider their belongings a small token of my gratitude." 

And just like that, he was gone, leaving Ray standing there in stunned silence. 

What the hell just happened? 

Shaking his head, Ray quickly rifled through the unconscious thugs' bags. Their weapons were garbage - cheap iron blades, barely worth anything - but the money would at least help. 

After making sure he had everything useful, to leave no evidence behind, Ray ended them quickly, then he set off to find a weapon shop. It took him a few minutes of searching, but eventually, he found one tucked between two larger buildings, its wooden sign swaying slightly in the breeze. 

Inside, racks of swords, pole arms, and bows lined the walls, the scent of oiled leather and polished steel filling the air. 

Ray approached the counter, setting down the stolen weapons and coins. "What can I get for these?" 

The shopkeeper, a gruff-looking man with a scar across his nose, gave the pile a cursory glance before scoffing. "Not much. These are barely worth scrap." 

Ray sighed. "Figures. Alright, what's the best I can afford?" 

After some back and forth, he ended up with a well-crafted bastard sword, a set of light bracers, and a chestplate - not the best gear, but solid enough. The transaction nearly drained all his funds, but he still had just enough left for some rations and a small bag. 

Not ideal, but it'd have to do.

Now, upon reentering the giant plaza, came the second part of his preparations, looking for a group.

Approaching a trio of adventurers, he mustered his best confident smile. "Hey, mind if I join you? I'm new to this place and could use a team."

The woman in the group, armed with a spear, turned to him with a quizzical look. "Oh, uh… sure, I guess?"

For a moment, it seemed to work. They acknowledged him, nodding as they continued talking about their plan. Ray joined in, listening, offering his own thoughts when relevant. It felt natural.

Then the moment slipped. The leader of the group, a man in heavy armor, suddenly turned to his teammates, frowning. "Wait, what were we just talking about?"

The spearwoman blinked. "I don't… huh?"

Ray's stomach sank as he saw their gazes drift away from him, as if his presence had faded into an afterthought. They had acknowledged him. He had been there. But now, he was nothing more than a fleeting memory.

He tried again with another group. The response was the same - curious glances, brief acknowledgment, then a complete and total loss of recognition.

His own aspect was working against him.

Ray exhaled, rubbing his temples. "Figures," he muttered. "This stupid 'Unknown Slayer' title isn't just for show, huh?"

If no one would remember him, then forming a party was impossible.

Which left only one option.

Steeling himself, Ray walked toward the entrance of the labyrinth. The queue moved aside for him, though no one seemed aware they were doing so. The attendant checking groups barely glanced his way.

Then, without another thought, Ray stepped through the threshold.

The world shifted.

Light and sound collapsed inward. The air itself seemed to tremble, and for a brief, terrifying moment, there was nothing but silence. Then the space around him solidified, and he found himself in a long stone corridor, torches flickering along its walls.

The labyrinth had accepted him.

Alone, forgotten, but determined, Ray took his first step forward.

The moment Ray crossed the threshold, the world shifted. The chaotic noise of the bustling plaza outside was snuffed out in an instant, replaced by an eerie, suffocating silence. The air felt dense, heavy, as if the space itself were holding its breath. He took a tentative step forward, the soft scuff of his boots against stone unnaturally loud in the stillness.

The corridor before him was dimly lit, its walls forged from rough, dark stone that seemed to drink in what little light existed. Flickering blue torches lined the path ahead, casting restless shadows that twisted and stretched. The corridor funneled into a vast, circular chamber, where six doors stood like silent sentinels. Each was adorned with a strange, glowing symbol - symbols that seemed to shift and pulse when he stared at them for too long, as if alive.

Ray's fingers tightened around the hilt of his bastard sword. He swallowed hard, his throat dry.

"So… this is it," he muttered. "The labyrinth."

His gaze flickered around the room, noting its unnatural stillness. Not even the torches crackled. It was as if sound itself had been stripped away.

"Six doors," he murmured. "I guess I don't have much of a choice."

Without any clear indication of where to begin, he strode forward and chose a door at random. The moment he stepped through, the chamber beyond swallowed him whole.

The room was circular, its floor jagged with broken stone. The air here felt charged, tingling against his skin. At its center, a hulking, wolf-like beast crouched, muscles coiled like steel cables beneath its bristling black fur. Its eyes, eerie and glowing, locked onto Ray the moment he entered. A deep growl rumbled through its chest, a sound that made the hairs on the back of his neck rise.

Ray barely had time to react before it lunged, claws scraping against the stone as it launched forward with terrifying speed. He barely twisted away in time, feeling the rush of air as one clawed paw sliced past his ribs. Gritting his teeth, he swung his sword in a sharp arc, aiming for its flank. The beast twisted midair, avoiding the worst of the strike, but his blade grazed its side, drawing a thin line of black ichor.

It landed, snarling, lips peeled back over wicked fangs. Then it charged again.

Ray steadied himself, muscles tensed. This time, he was ready. As the beast leapt, he sidestepped and swung with precision. His sword bit deep into its exposed throat. The creature let out a strangled howl before collapsing, its massive body crumpling to the ground. It twitched once - then stilled.

Ray exhaled heavily, stepping back as the creature's body dissolved into a shimmering mist of light. The glowing particles hovered, swirling, before rushing toward him in a sudden surge. The moment they entered his skin, he shivered, a strange numbness creeping through his limbs.

The groaning of stone echoed through the chamber as an exit appeared. Ray walked back into the main room, his breath still coming fast. He turned to face the five remaining doors, unease settling deep in his bones.

Something felt wrong.

He rubbed his nose absentmindedly, then froze.

He sniffed the air. Nothing. The musty, oppressive scent of the labyrinth - the damp stone, the faint metallic tang of his own sweat - was simply… gone.

Ray couldn't help but frown, his fingers clenching and unclenching at his sides. A deep sense of unease twisted in his gut. But there were no answers here, only more trials.

He steeled himself and moved toward the second door.

The moment he stepped inside, the atmosphere shifted once more. This room was darker, its air thick and humid, clinging to his skin like a second layer. A faint, rhythmic hiss echoed through the chamber. Ray's heart hammered.

Then he saw it.

A massive serpentine creature coiled along the walls, its scales glistening in the dim torchlight. Its slit-pupiled eyes glowed like molten gold, locked onto him with unsettling intelligence. The creature's forked tongue flicked out, tasting the air. Then, without warning, it struck.

Ray barely had time to raise his sword before the serpent's fangs snapped inches from his face. He staggered back, pivoting just in time to avoid another lightning-fast lunge. The serpent was relentless, its sinuous body moving too fast for something so massive. It coiled around the pillars, striking from different angles, forcing Ray to stay constantly on the defensive.

He dodged left, then right, his movements precise.

But he couldn't keep this up forever.

When the serpent reared back for another attack, Ray seized his chance. The moment it struck, he lunged forward instead of retreating, driving his sword into its exposed side. The blade sank deep. The serpent let out a shrill, ear-piercing screech, its body thrashing violently.

With a final, shuddering convulsion, it collapsed.

Ray yanked his blade free as the serpent's body began to dissolve. Again, the glowing particles rushed toward him, sinking into his skin.

He stumbled back into the main chamber, breath ragged. He sheathed his sword with shaking hands and dropped onto one of the cold stone steps, pressing his forehead against his palm.

He pulled a piece of bread from his satchel and bit into it, chewing mechanically. Then he stopped. His expression twisted in confusion.

No taste.

He swallowed hard, his stomach churning.

"No smell, no taste…" he whispered, his voice unsteady. "What's happening to me?"

But the labyrinth offered no answers. Only more doors.

Ray exhaled slowly, dragging a hand down his face. There was no going back now. He pushed himself to his feet, squared his shoulders, and turned toward the third door.

The third chamber's opponent was a scuttling, insectoid beast, its mandibles clicking menacingly as it lunged for Ray. Its multi-jointed legs moved in a chaotic blur, erratic and unpredictable. Ray barely had time to raise his sword before the creature closed the distance, its razor-sharp limbs slicing through the air.

He ducked, feeling the wind of the strike graze past his head, and rolled to the side. The beast spun, adapting to his movements with terrifying speed.

Ray struck first, aiming for its exposed underbelly. His blade scraped against its chitinous armor, barely leaving a mark. The creature shrieked, slamming its body forward in an attempt to crush him. He leapt back just in time, panting.

With a deep breath, he changed tactics. Waiting for the next attack, he feinted left before pivoting sharply. The moment the creature lunged, he drove his sword into the joint of its forelimb. The blade pierced through, sending a sickening crack through the air. The beast screeched, momentarily stunned.

Seizing the opening, Ray wrenched his sword free and drove it deep into the creature's skull. It twitched violently before collapsing in a heap.

As before, its form dissolved, the glowing particles flooding into him. He shuddered, his fingers trembling. Something was changing. And it terrified him.