Ziel didn’t even glance at the man.

Lindon was frozen in shock by the Iron’s words. They had recognized him? How?

He had been gone for more than three years. He wore completely different clothes, had advanced seven times, and even lost an arm. In the first place, he had never known many people in the Heaven’s Glory School. Odds were, he had never met this man.

[Maybe it’s the badge?] Dross suggested.

While he was wearing the badge of an Unsouled, it was made from wintersteel, not wood. Had that one symbol really been enough to alert this lone Iron? Was Heaven’s Glory that vigilant against his return?

Yerin, who had physically changed at least as much as he had, shouted to the Iron who was staggering back from Ziel in shock and fear. “Oi!” she called. “How do you know us?”

The Iron turned to run, but turning was as far as he got.

Eithan was already behind him, standing out from the white surroundings in his stylish cyan silk. He smiled and seized the Heaven’s Glory disciple by the upper arms. “Relax, new friend!”

The stranger made a whimper like an animal with its leg caught in a trap.

Yerin strode over to him and snapped her fingers to get his attention. “Hey. Do you know my face? Did you draw swords on me before?”

There was anger in her voice, but Lindon was certain she wouldn’t hurt him, no matter how he answered. The Iron was only sixteen or seventeen, and he paled and shifted as though looking around for help. “This one didn’t see you! This one only happened to witness your friends.”

“More of them in the trees,” Ziel reported, as he continued to walk toward the sparse forest.

The hostage’s eyes lit up. “This one would be honored to take you to the school’s Elders. If you cooperate, this one is certain we could come to an understanding.”

For the first time, Lindon witnessed what it was like to hear someone weaker than him speaking too humbly. It was painful.

He felt a moment of shame for his past self.

“You mentioned that you saw our friends,” Eithan said casually. “Which ones? We’re very friendly people, you see.”

Lindon wondered if some of the Akura Golds had somehow managed to make it into the valley ahead of them.

“From…from last time,” the Iron said. He spoke uncertainly, as though he hadn’t understood the question. “The rest of you. Apologies, this one doesn’t know which ones, he saw only techniques of light and fire.”

“Who do you think we are?” Mercy asked curiously.

“You’re…aren’t you…exiles from the Wei clan?”

In the woods, techniques flashed as the other Heaven’s Glory sentinels attacked Ziel.

Lindon grabbed the front of the boy’s outer robe and forced him to meet his eyes. “You were attacked by exiles from the Wei clan?”

He waited for the boy’s furious, desperate nod.

“When?”

“Two…no, three? Three days ago!”

An old man’s commanding voice split the air. “Release him!”

Lindon looked up to see Elder Rahm, keeper of the Heaven’s Glory School’s Lesser Treasure Hall, facing them with his chin raised and his back straight. He stood with the vitality of a younger man, though he had to be at least eighty.

Four oblong security constructs floated behind him, a pair over each shoulder. Their tips shone with gold as they kindled their Striker techniques.

A jade badge hung on his chest, showing off a scepter emblem. A Ruler.

Lindon glanced behind the Elder to see Ziel’s increasingly distant figure shrugging off a barrage of Iron-level techniques.

Lindon released the Iron disciple, taking a few steps closer to the Heaven’s Glory Elder. He pushed his fists together, white knuckles against those of flesh, and dipped his head.

“Greetings, Elder Rahm,” Lindon said. “It has been too long.”

Rahm’s eyes crawled from Lindon’s face down to his badge before realization dawned on him. It quickly turned to disgust.

“Unsouled. I would take your hand for robbing me, but it looks like someone stole that pleasure from me.”

Lindon wanted to be offended by that, but he probably deserved it. While the Heaven’s Glory School had worked against him, Rahm had not started as an enemy himself. But Lindon and Yerin had robbed him anyway.

“How did you contact the other exiles?” Rahm continued, the constructs behind him growing hotter. “Or do they give you your orders?”

“I understand you’ve suffered from an attack, but we’re not here to hurt you. We’ve actually come to help.”

Elder Rahm’s jaw slowly dropped. He looked as though he had just heard the most stupid statement he could possibly imagine.

“I was too lenient on you before, Unsouled. I’ve since learned better than to expect honor from a Wei.”

He triggered all four of the launcher constructs. They began gathering light and heat into points as the Striker bindings within them cycled power. There was a delay of only about a quarter second between Rahm triggering the constructs and their techniques activating.

In that gap, a finger-thin bar of Blackflame sliced all four of the weapons into pieces.

Four explosions echoed behind Elder Rahm before his eyes had a chance to widen.

Lindon closed the distance between them in a blink. He didn’t use the Burning Cloak. He didn’t need it.

“Tell me about the Wei clan exiles.” Lindon said. He kept his voice quiet and firm, but he didn’t want to sound too threatening.

The threat was already clear.

Elder Rahm’s eyes moved to the others behind Lindon. “Did you really come from outside without knowing anything?”

“Apologies, Elder,” Lindon said, “but answer my question.”

Rahm’s wrinkled face melted slightly, into an expression that was one degree below a smile. “The heavens hate you. Perhaps I was right all along to pity you.”

“Clearly we’re wasting our time,” Eithan said with a sigh. “He has a soul of steel. We will never get any information out of him. We’ll have to search for clues on our own.”

There came a squawk and a handful of screams as Ziel pushed over a tree with one hand, sending the Irons hiding in its branches falling to the ground like overripe fruit.

Elder Rahm stiffened and gave Lindon a hateful glare. “Kill me. My Remnant will—”

“Oh, what great fortune!” Eithan cried. “A clue!” He was peering into the trees, shading his eyes with one hand. He leaped away, trusting the others to follow.

Mercy and Lindon both turned back to Yerin, who looked from one to the other. “Not at my peak, but I’m not really made of glass.”

[Hey Mercy, why don’t you keep her company?] Dross suggested, without letting Yerin in on the conversation. [Lindon can carry the old man. Oh no, wait, I’m sorry he’d rather carry Yerin. Of course, that was stupid of me. You take the wrinkly one.]

“I’ll take him,” Lindon hurriedly insisted, tossing Elder Rahm over one shoulder. Rahm struggled and protested, but he was a Jade. He’d be fine.

“Then I’ll—” Mercy began.

Yerin vanished in a flash of white light.

Her Moonlight Bridge could take her almost anywhere, but Lindon sensed her only a little ahead. She’d used it to catch up with Ziel.