More than once, he’d wondered about the legendary powers of the Arelius bloodline. If they really could sense a speck of dust on a single tile at the top of a hundred-foot roof, as the stories claimed, then Eithan had to know what Jai Long was doing in the city. He could have stopped Jai Long at any time, removing a steadily growing threat to his own adopted disciple.

But he’d been the one to promise that disciple a duel in the first place. Jai Long was glad he didn’t work for the Arelius; that family must treat its disciples lives as tinder for the fire.

Thanks to Jai Long and Gokren, the Jai clan had been forced to lighten its grip on its enemies. Jai Lowgolds had a curfew now, and the clan had distributed valuable communication constructs to carry word of any suspicious sightings. Most of the clan had retreated to the very peak of Shiryu Mountain, living as close to their Underlord as possible, and a Highgold had been assigned to every house.

Not that it would do them any good. Jai Long had broken through to Truegold weeks ago.

At this point, draining Lowgolds of their Remnants did virtually nothing but replenish his core. Only Highgolds or better would help him advance, and Truegolds were the best.

Which was why he was here, crouching on the roof of one of the Jai clan’s lesser palaces, waiting for the first Truegold patrol of the night. The sun was dropping behind the mountain, casting long shadows over Serpent’s Grave, so it would be harder to see now than in the middle of the night.

Ordinarily, the streets outside the Jai clan homes would be packed at sunset, but the curfew required everyone except designated clan guards to be inside a safehouse before dark. None of the palaces in this district were secure, so they would be empty. Defended only by a Truegold at the beginning of a long patrol.

He gripped the case for the Ancestor’s Spear. There would only be one opponent this time, so no need to capture a Remnant—he could drain the elder dry right there on the street. No witnesses.

Gokren and two Sandviper Highgolds waited nearby, ready to provide backup if Jai Long encountered any difficulty. He was powerful enough now to rank in the top twenty or thirty of the Jai clan, but a true elder had been practicing the sacred arts since long before Jai Long was born. Who knew what crafty tricks they might have prepared.

As Jai Long slowly cycled, keeping his spirit calm, he felt it: the approaching force of a Truegold soul.

He hadn’t needed to scan the target directly to confirm that it was a Truegold, because they weren’t bothering to hide their power. There was a slightly muffled feel to it, as though they’d tried to veil themselves but had given up halfway. Maybe it wasn’t intentional; nerves could interfere with cycling. Perhaps they feared the attacker in the shadows.

If that was true, they would try to flee and sound the alarm rather than doing battle. Jai Long would have to strike so hard that they never had the chance to shout.

A white-clad figure with pale hair strode by beneath him, hands clasped behind the back. Through the shadows, Jai Long couldn’t make out if it was a man or a woman, but the force of a Truegold radiated from them.

Jai Long leaped off the building, Ancestor’s Spear shining in his grip. Stellar Spear madra ran through his muscles and bones, Enforcing him for the landing, bracing his body for the strike.

The Flowing Starlight technique settled in as he fell, until the wind seemed to whip past for long breaths of time. The white-haired head tilted, and Jai Long prepared himself for impact.

Then dark eyes swiveled up to meet him, showing no surprise.

An invisible fist gripped Jai Long’s heart and squeezed.

Jai Daishou, Underlord of the Jai clan, took a single step to the side and let his rebellious descendant crash to the ground.

Less than half a year had passed since Jai Long arrived in Serpent’s Grave; he’d expected to have months more before Jai Daishou personally acted. By then, he would have had more leverage.

He’d underestimated the Underlord’s insight, or overestimated his pride. Either way, the bill had come due long before Jai Long was prepared to pay.

Just like that, his revenge was over.

The impact of landing shocked Jai Long’s entire body, rattling his bones, and the bricks of the street cracked beneath him. The pure white shaft of his spear was driven two feet into the ground, and he’d landed in a crouch.

But slamming into the earth was nothing compared to the force of seeing Jai Daishou here, staring at him with the icy strength born from a hundred years of absolute rule.

A corrosive Truegold aura moved closer: Sandviper Gokren. He would have heard the crash, sensed the flare of Jai Long’s madra, and known that the trap was triggered. He’d never seen the Jai Underlord before; he would assume that Jai Daishou was just a Jai elder who had gotten the better of Jai Long.

He would try to help.

Jai Long’s stomach twisted, but he forced himself to meet the Underlord’s eyes. “This humble junior greets the Patriarch,” he said, his voice firm. He might have been about to die, but at least he didn’t have to show fear.

Jai Daishou turned to regard him head-on, his wrinkled face a mask, and Jai Long could no longer suppress his body's trembling. The old man's gaze was placid, like a frozen lake, but Jai Long shook as though he stared down a hungry dragon.

“You have killed sacred artists of your own clan,” the Patriarch said. “For quite some time now.” His tone remained neutral.

“Let the punishment fall on me alone,” Jai Long said, through clenched teeth and a burning throat. The words tasted bitter; he longed to spit defiance and die trying to shove his spear into the Patriarch's heart.

But if the Underlord had known about Jai Long’s activities, it was best to assume he knew everything. Including Jai Chen’s presence in the city.

If the Underlord grew too irritated, he could wipe her out with a motion of his hand.

There was nothing Jai Long could do to prevent his own execution, but if he had to bow and scrape with his last breath to save his sister, he would shame himself a thousand times over.

Jai Daishou nodded. “Humility is a virtue, when you face a stronger force. I am pleased to know you've learned to swallow your pride.” One slow, shuffling step at a time, he made his way over to Jai Long. The pressure built with every step, until he stood only a foot away. It was like being within arm's reach of an earthquake.

The Patriarch extended one hand and waited.

Jai Long knew what he wanted, so he forced his pride to bend even further. As though it weighed a thousand pounds, he slowly extracted the Ancestor's Spear from the earth and held it out, presenting it with both hands.

The Underlord lifted it with a more pleasant expression than Jai Long had ever seen on his aged face. He held it in one hand and ran the other over the weapon, feeling the script. The spearhead looped in one slow arc, tracing a line of white in the air, as Jai Daishou closed his eyes and savored the sensation.

“I have your sister already,” Jai Daishou said, eyes still closed, and Jai Long’s heart crumbled to ash and blew away. “My men picked her up hours ago. I had intended to use her life to stop you from throwing your life away in a suicidal charge, but you have at least a spark of wisdom.”

He had known it was a mistake to take her out of the Desolate Wilds. He had known it, but where could he have left her? Where could an Underlord not reach?

Jai Long prostrated himself, scraping his cloth mask against the sandy bricks. “She knew nothing of my actions. Please.”