Chapter 1322 Broken Time

Name:Shadow Slave Author:
Chapter 1322 Broken Time

The ominous words hung in the air, as foreboding as the wall of darkness veiling the sky far in the distance. Sunny and Nephis looked at Ananke, wary because of her somber expression. This was the first time either of them had seen the young priestess show signs of despondence. The three of them must have made for a funny sight... two battle-hardened warriors staring at a teenage girl, waiting for her guidance. New novel chapters are published at novelhall.com

Sunny frowned. "A time storm?"

Ananke nodded slowly. "...Yes, my Lord. I have told you before that time can be unpredictable on the Great River. There are places where it turns stale and unmoving, great whirlpools that nothing can ever escape, clashing currents, and deadly tides of all kinds. A time storm... is one of the most dangerous anomalies one can encounter."

Her youthful face darkened.

"It is a wandering disaster that twists and rips time apart, containing within itself absolute chaos. These storms originate from the span of the Great River that corresponds to the final days of the Doom War, when the last cataclysmic battles between the daemons and the gods were fought, and when both sides perished. They... usually don't reach that far upstream. I am sorry."

Nephis shook her head. "You don't need to be sorry, Ananke. It is not your fault. However... how do we escape it?"

The young priestess lingered for a few moments, then said quietly:

"I am not sure that we can."

She uttered several words, easily overpowering Neph's Shaping. The wind that had been filling the sails of the ketch disappeared, and a moment later, a powerful gale crushed into the wooden boat, making it creak. This one was not summoned by anyone. Much worse... it was blowing from downstream, pushing their hair back.

"It is very important that none of us touches the water, or becomes separated from the ketch. This storm front we see is only the aftereffect of the true disaster. The real horror lies beneath the waves, in the depths of water — no one can survive being pulled down by the raging currents of broken time. If you fall into the river, you will never come back."

Sunny grimaced. His hope of being able to salvage the situation by turning into the river serpent had just been crushed. Now, his only choice was to trust Ananke to see them through the disaster. It was not that he didn't trust her... but...

Sunny suddenly remembered traversing the dark sea of the Forgotten Shore on the shoulder of the walking colossus. There had been a storm then, too... and a harrowing creature hiding within the storm. His expression crumbled. "...There are no ancient abominations hiding in that wall of darkness, are there?"

Ananke looked at him with surprise, then shook her head with a smile. "No, my Lord. Even the Defiled can't survive the broken time. They avoid these storms just as we do."

Sunny sighed and looked downstream with a bleak face. After a while, he asked in a dull voice:

"We should prepare for a rocky ride, then?"

The young priestess nodded. "Indeed. My Lord is wise..."

He was not even in the mood to celebrate getting another praise. Shaking his head, Sunny started stretching his body, then froze, realizing how senseless his actions were. They were not preparing for a battle. Sharp swords and sturdy armor were not going to help them survive the storm, and neither would their combat skills. Sighing again, he asked:

"What exactly do we need to do?"

With no time to waste, Ananke directed them on how to help her prepare the ketch for braving the storm. She tried to sound calm, but hints of urgency found their way into her voice. The preparations did not take long. They lowered the sails, then folded them neatly. As it turned out, both masts of the ketch could be taken down, as well. After dismantling them, everything was either stored under the deck of the wooden boat or fastened tightly in place.

Ten minutes later, nothing that could be easily torn or broken by the wind remained. The ketch turned from a sailboat into a simple and barren vessel, seemingly too small to survive a terrible storm, but also solid enough to look like it, maybe, could. The three of them stood on the empty deck, looking north. The wall of darkness was approaching.