Shadow Slave: The Four Horseman of Deviants

"This is the end, Mason. I didn't want it to come to this, but you've left me no choice…"

Niro's voice was cold and unyielding, as he pressed his foot down on Mason's chest, pinning him to the ground. Mason's body ached, bruised and battered, his clothes nothing more than burnt rags clinging to his skin.

He couldn't move.

Could barely breathe.

Mason—or Lee, as he once was—stared up at his supposed best friend. The weight of Niro's betrayal bore down on him far heavier than the foot trapping him in place.

'How did it come to this?'

He had prepared.

Had fought with everything he had, clinging to the hope that he could save Niro somehow, pull him back from the brink. But now, staring into Niro's cold, unrecognizable eyes, Lee realized the truth.

'Niro was probably like this… even before I transmigrated into Mason's body.'

The thought cut deeper than any wound.

…..

It took Lee about three weeks to properly master the basics of swordsmanship. His so-called father had granted him the opportunity to train, providing him with lessons on how to wield a blade.

The training wasn't anything like the flashy, over-the-top swordplay he had seen in anime. Still, it gave him a solid foundation—a stepping stone to eventually mastering the techniques of this unfamiliar world.

Back on Earth, Lee had never considered picking up something like fencing or any sports at all. Physical exercise wasn't his thing, and he'd always dismissed the idea of learning martial skills.

Why bother when a pepper spray or taser could handle most situations?

And if someone was skilled enough to get past that?

Well, his answer was simple—don't put himself in those situations to begin with.

But this world didn't work like that. Knowledge alone wasn't enough here. Strength mattered, and it wasn't just about survival. It was about not being a burden to the people he cared about.

'I want to see them again,' he often thought, gripping the hilt of the training sword tightly during practice. 'I want to become strong!'

That desire became his driving force, pushing him through the exhausting weeks of training.

Eventually, another three weeks passed, and his instructor had nothing left to teach him.

"I must say, sir," the instructor said, addressing Mason's father. "Your son is remarkable—a fast learner, no doubt. He's quite talented."

Mason's father smiled warmly, placing a hand on Lee's shoulder.

"And here I thought you preferred the pursuit of knowledge over strength," his father said with a soft chuckle.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, Lee let out an exhausted sigh but met his father's gaze. "I want to explore all kinds of experiences, and that includes swordsmanship."

"I see," his father replied, his smile widening. "I'll support you in any way I can, Mason."

Lee bowed deeply. "Thank you, Father."

For a moment, he allowed himself to feel the faint warmth of pride. It wasn't much, but it was a start. And in this world, every small victory counted.

…..

After bidding farewell to his father, Lee finally decided it was time to head back to Markarth.

The rhythmic clatter of the carriage wheels on the cobblestone road provided a calming backdrop as Lee sat quietly, writing in his journal. The faint scratch of the quill accompanied his thoughts as he logged his daily entry.

"Right," he murmured to himself, tapping the pen against his chin. "I need to talk to Niro. Hope he's doing okay."

Once his log was complete, he closed the journal and tucked it away, turning his attention to the glowing runes etched into his wrist. They shimmered faintly in the dim light, their details sharp and clear.

---

Name: Lee Wang

True Name: —

Rank: Aspirant

Sole Core: Dormant

Memories: [Arbora Mind], [Eclipse]

Echoes: —

Attributes: [Infoflux], [Ironthread]

Aspect: [Feeble Scholar]

Aspect Description: [You are a feeble scholar, one of the few survivors of a massacre orchestrated by the Daemon Cult. ]

---

Lee's gaze lingered on the Memories section.

Arbora Mind was the enchanted pair of glasses gifted to him by Professor Seamore. They provided an extensive compendium of information about the plants and flora of this world—an invaluable tool for someone like him.

Eclipse, however, was a different matter entirely.

He summoned the sword, watching as it materialized in his hand—a silver blade with edges dark as midnight. The craftsmanship was exquisite, unlike anything he'd ever seen.

---

Memory: [Eclipse]

Memory Rank: Awakened

Memory Enchantments: [Thin Edge]

Description: [Forged under a sky where clouds cloaked the moon, this blade was perfected as the sun eclipsed the night, granting it an edge of unparalleled sharpness.]

---

Lee tilted the sword, its surface gleaming faintly in the light streaming through the carriage window.

"Damn," he muttered, running a thumb along the hilt, careful to avoid the blade's edge. "Damon's dad really outdid himself. This thing looks straight out of a fantasy novel."

Still, he knew better than to test its sharpness. He'd already seen what it could do during training and didn't feel like losing a finger to curiosity.

With a flick of his wrist, he unsummoned Eclipse, watching as it disappeared into his invisible inventory.

The rest of the carriage ride passed uneventfully. The familiar skyline of Markarth came into view, the city's stone buildings bathed in the soft light of the late afternoon.

The carriage slowed to a stop in front of his apartment, and Lee stepped out, stretching his legs after the long journey.

He took a deep breath, staring up at the bustling streets before him.

"Alright," he said to himself, adjusting the strap of his bag. "Time to find Niro."

…..

Awakened Zion sat at a small café, savoring the tranquility of a rare moment alone as he sipped his tea. The warm, aromatic brew seemed to soothe his thoughts, but the peace didn't last.

Two figures in long trench coats and flat hats approached his table, their movements precise and deliberate. Without waiting for an invitation, they took seats across from him. One of them reached into their coat and produced a folded document, placing it on the table.

"Sir," the first figure began, his voice low and steady, "according to our intel, the young man called Niro has been operating an illegal organization. While details remain scarce, the group is believed to be connected to the Forbidden Cult, thought to have dissolved after the massacre."

Zion set his cup down with a quiet clink, his sharp gaze fixing on the speaker. "Where is he now?"

"The last sighting placed him near the forest," the second figure replied. "Another possibility is his apartment."

Zion leaned back in his chair, his expression thoughtful. "I see. Then inform Awakened Colero immediately. Have men from the Borough support him in his search." He paused, his tone hardening. "As for me, the two of you will accompany me to raid Niro's apartment."

The two operatives nodded in unison, rising from their seats as Zion finished his tea. Without further delay, the three departed, their steps brisk and purposeful.

….

Arriving at Niro's apartment, Zion and his personnel moved with precision, entering the premises with ease. However, the scene that greeted them was far from what they expected.

The apartment was bare. Furniture remained, but the personal touches—clothes, documents, and smaller belongings—were all conspicuously absent.

"He knew we were coming," Zion muttered, his jaw tightening.

The team began combing through the space, searching for any clue that might reveal Niro's location. But every drawer, every corner, yielded nothing.

"What about the person tasked with monitoring him?" Zion asked, his tone sharp.

The first operative hesitated before answering. "Sir, we've lost contact with them. They haven't reported back since they began following Niro."

Zion clicked his tongue in frustration, his thoughts racing. 'So, he knew he was being watched as well…'

He straightened, his voice cutting through the tense silence. "Inform the Borough immediately. As for you two, join Awakened Colero at the forest ruins. If Niro's there, we need to act swiftly."

The two operatives nodded and left without question. Zion lingered for a moment, his eyes scanning the empty apartment one last time.

'This isn't over,' he thought grimly, before turning on his heel and heading out to regroup.

….

At the Outskirts of Markarth

"Big brother Niro! It's so good to see you again!"

Woody's cheerful voice rang out as he ran toward Niro, his small hands outstretched with excitement.

Niro crouched down, pulling a small wooden toy from his bag and holding it out. "Here, Woody. I brought this for you."

Woody's face lit up with joy as he accepted the toy. "Wow! Thank you so much!" he exclaimed before dashing off toward his room, his laughter echoing through the modest home.

Niro straightened, his expression softening as he turned to Woody's parents. The warmth in his smile faded quickly, replaced by a steely resolve.

"Are the two of you ready?" he asked, his tone firm but calm.

The father stepped forward, his voice trembling slightly.

"Yes… we're ready."

"Good," Niro replied. "Tomorrow, we'll begin the ceremony. Make sure you attend, or Woody will never see his parents again."

A tense silence followed his words. Woody's mother bit her lip, her eyes darting to her husband before she nodded. "Yes, we understand."

"Excellent." Niro's gaze lingered on them for a moment before he added, "And remember, if anyone asks about me, tell them nothing. Not a single word."

Both parents nodded quickly, fear etched into their faces.

Satisfied, Niro gave them a gentle smile, one that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Good. Then I'll take my leave."

He turned toward the door, raising a hand in a casual wave as he stepped out. "Take care, now," he said lightly, as if bidding farewell to old friends.

The door closed behind him, leaving Woody's parents standing in the uneasy silence of their home.

….

Awakened Colero received the message and waited patiently for the Borough personnel to arrive. The delay didn't bother him—he knew the mission required precision, not haste.

When the team finally arrived, they wasted no time. Together, they set off toward the forest, the ruins looming ahead like a shadowy beacon.

As they reached the forest's edge, Colero turned to address the group.

"Spread out and search the forest. Look for anything suspicious or any signs that could lead us to Niro. The rest of you, follow me—we're heading to the ruins."

The men nodded in unison, breaking off into two groups. Five of them fell in step behind Colero, their movements disciplined and methodical.

The journey to the ruins was uneventful, the eerie silence of the forest broken only by the crunch of their boots on fallen leaves. When they reached the site, the scene was grim. The ruins were desolate, the only signs of life replaced by the stench of decay and the remains of long-forgotten battles.

Colero's sharp eyes scanned the area, but there were no immediate signs of movement. Just corpses—lifeless and rotting—strewn across the crumbled stone.

"Stick together," he commanded, his voice steady but firm. "Search the area thoroughly. Look for any clues that could give us a lead."

Colero and his men entered the ruins, the oppressive atmosphere pressing down on them like a vice. The Awakened's heart tightened—there was no mistaking it. Something dangerous lurked within these crumbling walls.

The stench of decay assaulted their senses as they moved deeper. The rotting corpses of the previous exploration team lay scattered, untouched and reeking.

The Heads in the Borough had clearly made no effort to clean the place, likely due to their own internal conflicts, a shortage of manpower, or perhaps the fear of a powerful curse rumored to haunt Markarth.

Everyone in the city knew what had happened here. It wasn't too long ago that a boy named Mason had been dragged into this mess, his memory shattered and fragmented.

According to the medical documents Colero and Zion had retrieved during Mason's house arrest, his mental state had seemed stable. Yet his amnesia remained unexplainable, likely caused by some mysterious and potent Aspect ability.

Whatever that ability was, it was dangerous.

As they searched the ruins, an unnatural fog began to spread across the ground, curling like tendrils of smoke. It carried a peculiar floral fragrance that seeped into the air, an intoxicating sweetness that set Colero on edge.

"Cover your noses! Don't breathe the—"

Before he could finish, one by one, his men crumpled to the ground. Their legs gave way, their bodies slack, consciousness stolen in an instant.

Panic surged through him. 'This is bad. I need to get out of here—fast!'

But before Colero could move, a shadow loomed behind him.

He spun around, eyes wide, only to find his body locked in place. Paralysis gripped him, his limbs refusing to obey.

A single thought flared in his mind before darkness claimed him— 'What is this… power?'

And then, the Awakened Colero fell, unconscious.

…..

The bodies in the ruins had been piled into a gruesome heap at the center of the chamber. A figure who called himself Hughe stood nearby, his work nearly complete. He waited patiently for his comrade to join him.

The sound of footsteps echoed behind him—dozens, perhaps hundreds.

Leading the procession of dark-cloaked figures was Niro, the leader of the Markarth Branch.

"I see you've finished your part," Niro said, his voice steady. "I've done mine as well."

Behind Niro stood a crowd of a hundred people. Some were former cult members, while others had been swayed into believing that the cult's mission served the greater good.

Niro stepped forward, addressing the group with fervor.

"Fellow comrades—brothers and sisters—I thank you for joining our cause. Our world is riddled with corruption: noblemen, royals, con artists, and others who profit at the expense of the innocent. I know you've grown weary of these wretched individuals.

"As an orphan and a victim of their selfish greed, I, too, sought refuge within this very cult. The members here treated me as if I were one of their own, a part of their family.

"But those wretches ruined everything! They killed my family and disgraced their corpses. We only wanted to create a better world—a world where we could live as equals.

"The Daemon of Chaos, Dailexia, will guide us on this path!"

He raised an amulet high into the air, its surface glinting ominously in the dim light.

"This is the Amulet of Fate! With its power, our desires will become reality. No more begging for scraps from those who look down on us. We are no longer slaves! Together, we will build a world of equality!"

The cult members erupted into applause, their fervor filling the room. One by one, they moved toward the corners of the chamber, preparing for the ritual.

Niro turned, his voice rising with authority.

"The time has come. We will commence the Sacrifice!"

Niro raised his hands up in the air, as if gesturing as an offering to the gods.

"Burn the bodies!"

Flames ignited in the center, the bodies were currently being carried by the cult members.