Of everything in the hall, the only things worth Lindon’s attention were the weapons of halfsilver and goldsteel. And even then, only for their raw materials.

In an afternoon of work, Lindon could fill this hall with more powerful treasures. Using only local Remnants and scrap metal.

He shouldn’t have been disappointed, but he was.

If he got the chance, he still wanted to check out the Elder Treasure Hall, but he was much less eager to do so. He now suspected there was nothing of value in this entire school.

“…would like to hear more about this threat,” Emara was saying to Eithan. “If you have come here in the hopes of conquering territory, I can assure you, the Heaven’s Glory School is more than willing to negotiate.”

“Ah, but we are not the threat. How could we be? Look at our charming faces! No, the threat comes from the west.” Eithan tapped the ground with the point of his shoe. “Surely you’ve noticed.”

Emara and Rahm exchanged glances, and this time even Rahm looked worried. The earth trembled beneath them at that moment. It was almost gentle, but some of the objects rattled against their cases.

“We have spoken with the other schools about these signs,” the Grand Elder allowed. “Our final decision has been delayed due to a cowardly attack by our enemies.”

Rahm shifted to whisper into Emara’s ear, but he was stopped by a sharp smile from Eithan. The Jade woman continued without seeming to notice. “Please, allow us the time to consult with the other elders when they return.”

“And where are they?” Eithan asked.

“They have gone to punish our attackers. We needed every Jade we could spare to deal with their—”

“Wait!” Rahm shouted, but he was too late to stop her.

“—giant turtle,” she finished. Then she turned a frown on Rahm.

Lindon’s breath left him.

He’d felt Orthos’ presence as they approached. Those Striker techniques that had cut rainstone buildings to pieces: black dragon’s breath.

Orthos had come here. To his home. He’d attacked the Heaven’s Glory School to get something.

Someone.

He had tried to escape…and failed.

Three days ago.

Yerin seized the woman by the front of her outer robe. “Where?” Yerin demanded.

“The…the camp at the base of the Fallen Leaf—”

“Point!”

The Jade extended a shaky finger pointing deeper into the valley.

Eithan closed his eyes, and Lindon felt his perception extend. He even caught the hair-thin strands of madra from his Arelius bloodline power, so subtle that ordinarily no one could detect them.

“I see where they passed through, but I can’t…” He gave a frustrated grunt and opened his eyes again. “…I can’t see them. I’m sorry.”

“But you can confirm their direction?” Lindon asked.

Eithan nodded.

Lindon slipped Little Blue into his void key, opening it for only an instant. Then he took off running.

He shot away from the Heaven’s Glory School with the full speed of the Soul Cloak, pure madra flowing around him in waves of blue and white.

There were other routes out of the School. Heaven’s Glory covered more of the mountain than he had ever seen, but he only knew one way in and out. Fortunately, it was the route just ahead of him.

A soft pink glow came from the edge of the cliff he was sprinting towards. But it wasn’t a cliff; the road headed straight for it.

It was the top of a staircase.

Lindon plunged into the cloud of dream madra without hesitation.

When he was here last, the Heaven’s Glory School had called the process of climbing these stairs the Trial of Glorious Ascension. Those students who could make it up within a time limit were rewarded beyond those who could not.

To the mortal eye, it looked like a cloud of pink mist with hazy silhouettes flickering through. Sounds, strange and intimidating, drifted away from its heart.

To the spiritual senses, it felt like a concentration of emotions and dreams, a nexus of spiritual pressure and illusions. It was haunted by Remnants and natural spirits, either grown in this unique environment or cultivated by the Heaven’s Glory School. As soon as he crossed the barrier, they turned hungry eyes to him.

Then they bolted.

As Lindon sprinted down the vast staircase, he felt dream Remnants fleeing from him in all directions.

The illusions generated by dream aura, both naturally and as part of the Trial’s intentionally designed mechanisms, didn’t fool him for an instant. He ran through a paper-thin image of a bloody warrior with axe raised, and didn’t flinch at the sound of his mother crying for his help.

He had dissected his share of dream Remnants. They hunted with their spiritual perception as well as some purely mental senses that didn’t translate particularly well to living humans.

Whether they sensed his thoughts or his spirit or his will, they wanted only to avoid his notice.

Dross had been quiet for a while, but he was roused by the lesser spirits around him. [You know, I’ve always wondered what it was like to have someone cower before me. I like it. It’s a lot more fun than being the one cowering.]

The staircase switched directions a few times, but for the most part was a straight shot down the mountain.

Lindon cleared it in minutes, leaping some of the longer sections. He emerged from the fog of pink aura, turning and sighting on the location of the Wei clan. It was close, nestled roughly to the northeast of the valley.

Eithan emerged from the Trial an instant behind him, and Lindon slowed to allow him to catch up.

The Arelius pointed one finger in the direction of Yoma Mountain. “That’s where they headed, but they could have changed course.”

If they really were heading to the base of the Fallen Leaf School, their route would take them past the Wei clan, not through it. Then again, the Heaven’s Glory members hadn’t said they were after the Wei clan, but rather Wei exiles.

Lindon flared the Soul Cloak and pushed his speed.

To his surprise, he quickly left Eithan behind.

Eithan’s Path didn’t have a full-body Enforcer technique, though he had never known Eithan to need one. This was the effect of Sacred Valley’s suppression field.

He was starting to feel some effects himself, but as an Underlord, he would be drained far more slowly than Eithan the Archlord. To his spiritual sense, Eithan already felt more like a Truegold.

Which, he realized, was the weakest he’d ever sensed Eithan.

Lindon cut his speed. He wouldn’t be any good without a guide, though it grated on him to slow at all.

Eithan grimaced. “I’m not used to people slowing down to let me catch up.”

“I don’t prefer it either. Have you found them yet?”

Mercy reached them, flying on her staff, though she lurched and bobbed unsteadily in midair, the aura too thin to support a smooth flight. “Do you know where we’re going?”

Eithan ducked a tree branch that extended over the path. “They passed through here, but it won’t be long before you’ll be able to see farther than I can.”

Lindon had extended his own spiritual perception before Eithan had said anything. Since leaving, he’d kept his spirit wide open.

Orthos’ presence smoldered in the back of his mind.