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After a while, he thought:

'That Weaver was one sly guy… girl… person… being? Well, the fact that I don't even know that much only serves to prove the point. And I thought I was good at deceit and manipulation.'

How devious one must be to not let even the gods, even the Nightmare Spell know anything about them?

But it was fitting, in a strange kind of way. If Weaver's domain was that of fate, there was no other way. Fate was a terrifying, but subtle tool. Manipulating it to your advantage required a very special kind of genius, one that was directly opposite to any kind of directness, straightforwardness, and brutal power.

However, if given the choice, Sunny would have preferred to face War God in battle than to make someone like Weaver his enemy.

Masterful liars were far more dangerous than deadly warriors. He knew it better than most.

…Exiting the Soul Sea, Sunny hesitated for a little and then summoned the Weaver's Mask. The cool wooden surface of the mask appeared on his face, held in place by some invisible force.

Immediately, his vision changed slightly. Everything became sharper, clearer, more vivid. Sunny could feel the mask reaching into his eyes and connecting to something — the strange legacy he had inherited by consuming the drop of Weaver's blood. He sensed his intuition becoming more potent, too.

It was as though he could almost see the mysterious strings of fate that span across the entire world.

…Almost.

Glancing at the pile of dust that remained of the prisoner, Sunny frowned slightly.

The identity of the person who had been wearing the Weaver's Mask remained a secret. Just who had this corpse belonged to, and how had they ended up chained to the floor in a hidden dungeon cell beneath the majestic cathedral?

The easiest thing to assume was that it was Weaver themselves, but Sunny dismissed that theory immediately.

From everything he knew about the original master of the mask, the power of that creature was just below that of the gods… and that of the Unknown, perhaps. If Weaver appeared on the Forgotten Shore, the whole Dark City would have been wiped out of existence before any harm was done to them.

So who could have been wearing Weaver's Mask? Some powerful carrier of the Nightmare Spell that had received it as a Memory, just how Sunny did?

'Well…'

If Weaver was really a daemon, which was a strange kind of a lesser deity, were there a cult dedicated to them? Had there been priests and followers of Weaver? The message the prisoner had left behind sounded awfully close to a prayer. Had that person been deemed a heretic and condemned to this place for that reason?

Sunny sighed. There was no way to know.

Hesitating for a bit, he turned away and left the somber dungeon cell behind. He only had this one day to finish all the things he had left undone in the Dark City. There was no time for fruitless pondering.

Once outside, Sunny walked over to the place where he had left his shadow and took a look at himself through its eyes. What he saw made him blink a couple of times.

'Huh…'

The black lacquered mask sat snuggly on his face, hiding his features. He couldn't even see his eyes, which were drowned in darkness.

What's more, even his height was somehow unclear. Sunny didn't actually become taller, but from the side, it looked as though he did… sort of? One second, it did, and the next one, it did not. It was sort of similar to how people's faces changed when lighted from different directions. In any case, he couldn't tell for sure how tall the person facing the shadow was.

'How fun!'

It was not that Sunny became completely unrecognizable, though. He would still have to be careful to hide the context clues about himself while wearing the mask. Mundane things like the way he walked, his usual mannerisms, and other subtle but unique details of his behavior could still betray his identity despite the fact that it was masked from all unnatural means of detection.

To truly make himself appear as something else, Sunny would have to put on a performance.

...Good thing he was practicing the Shadow Dance, then. Was it not designed to fully imitate someone else's battle style and physicality?

'What a wonderful coincidence...'

Finally, the moment he had been dreading came. It was time to test if the [Simple Trick] was really capable of turning his Flaw upside down.

Needless to say, Sunny was nervous. His lips became dry, and he unconsciously tried to lick them… but now there was a mask on his face, so he couldn't. That bad habit of his had to be put to rest, apparently.

'...Great. Alright, let's do this.'

Opening his mouth, Sunny said out loud:

"I am… very tall!"

In the process, he grimaced, expecting the familiar pain to invade his mind.

…But there was nothing.

Sunny froze, blinked a couple of times, and waited. Still, nothing happened.

Beneath the mask, a wide grin appeared on his face.

"I am not only tall, but also exquisitely handsome. But that is not all, I am incredibly honest and nice, too. Every girl I meet immediately falls in love with me. Boys, too! That's just how lovable, handsome, nice and tall I am. Everything I have just said is absolutely true."

His mind was peaceful and quiet. There was no pain, no pressure. In fact, Sunny felt great.

'Wow…'

Feeling an almost overwhelming desire to continue spouting lies, he laughed in exhilaration.

"Amazing! This can be…"

But then, a tremendous explosion of pain suddenly threw him to the ground. With a startled yelp, Sunny grasped his head and then groaned through gritted teeth, feeling as though it was about to burst.

'What the hell?!'

He just wanted to say how useful the ability to lie could be.

'Wait…'

The ability to lie would, indeed, be very useful. Which meant that by stating that fact, he would be telling the truth.

And the Weaver's Mask did not remove his Flaw, just reversed it.

So... it seemed like while wearing it, Sunny could not tell even a word of truth.

'Uh...'

That seemed like the right conclusion to make. But he needed to test it to be absolutely sure.

With a doomed sigh, Sunny waited for a moment and then said:

"My name is…"

A moment later, another pained scream resounded in the darkness of the underground chamber.