The woman barked a chuckle, but still seemed more focused on scratching her elusive itch.

“Yerin,” Malice said, “didn’t you mention being uncomfortable in the valley? Why is that, do you think?”

Yerin saw through the tactic immediately. Malice was trying to steer her toward making some different wish.

Every second they wasted here was a second closer to Sacred Valley’s death.

Holding up two fingers, Yerin addressed the room. “Don’t have time to dance around, so there’s two trails we can take here. One, help me with the Dreadgod, and we’re all squared up. Two, I say you’ve all broken your promise to the Uncrowned. I’m making a wish inside your rules, and you’re turning me down. Monarchs should keep their word.”

Larian gave her a dangerous look, and Northstrider frowned. “Do not take advantage of your station to threaten us,” he said. “You do not understand the scope of what is involved.”

His tone rubbed Yerin the wrong way, but he wasn’t wrong, so she only spoke irritably. “Fine. Make me an offer.”

“I think I will,” Malice said. “We can fix you.”

“Your spirit and body merged, but they’re not balanced yet,” Larian said. She rapped her knuckles on her armor. “We see that from time to time. It can happen with new Heralds, and those who advance too fast. You’re both.”

Emriss picked up smoothly from where the Eight-Man Empire’s representative had left off. “Your condition is unique, and it’s possible that you would have reached equilibrium with enough time. However, being inside the suppression field so soon after your advancement has distorted you further.”

Yerin’s stomach twisted. “Feel fine when I’m not in the valley.”

“Of course. You’re still more than any other Overlord; your limitations will show only in conditions of extreme spiritual stress. Unfortunately, that includes any time you attempt to advance. The most likely scenario is that you spend the rest of your life as an incomplete pseudo-Herald.”

The rest of her life.

It didn’t hit Yerin as hard as she’d thought it would. She had been prepared for something like this when she’d advanced in the first place. At least she would keep the advancement she already had. As long as she stayed alive, there was a chance to find another solution.

And Emriss wouldn’t have brought this up if she didn’t have some kind of cure.

The Sage of Red Faith gestured furiously, and he looked like he was trying to catch Yerin’s attention, but Emriss held up a hand to soothe him.

“As I said, this case is unique. There are possible solutions, and it could be that if you avoid further spiritual stress for long enough, your body will balance itself.”

“Taking care of the Wandering Titan would save me worlds of stress.”

Malice leaned around to peek at Yerin. “Of course…the best solution would be for us to stabilize this fusion for you. It would save you years of suffering and roadblocks.”

“Agreed,” Northstrider said. “It is the one change we can make that will simultaneously grant you great power and improve your day-to-day life.”

Yerin looked from one Monarch to another, and they all seemed to have made up their minds. Even Red Faith was steadily nodding.

With a brief effort, Yerin tapped into the minor Divine Treasure resting in her soul, like a loop around her core. A black ring sprang into being over her head, distinct even from the darkness behind her.

“I’m not cracked in the head,” Yerin said quietly, as her Broken Crown burned in the darkness over her. “You can snap me like an old bone anytime you want. Don’t intend disrespect. But there’s a Dreadgod breathing down my collar right now.”

She met the eyes of all the others one at a time. None looked away. “Came here for help, ‘cause I’m at the end of my road, and fixing me doesn’t fix that. It’s a shiny prize, and I’d chew it over any other day. But today, I’m drowning, and you’re throwing me a bottle of wine.”

She let her Broken Crown vanish. “So you tell me what I’m supposed to make with that.”

Malice’s lips quirked up, and it might be Yerin’s imagination, but she thought the Monarch looked a little impressed. “Would it ease your worry to know that the Wandering Titan has not entered the valley yet? It has settled down to feed, and will remain in place for at least a short while.”

That was more than nothing, but it made Yerin even more eager to get this over with. If the Monarchs weren’t going to help, she had to return and move everybody away. She had some time now, but that didn’t mean she wanted to spend time polishing words.

Northstrider’s face, as usual, was stone. “We are united in recommending that you correct the instability of your spirit, a problem for which there is no quick cure besides rewriting reality itself. If you would prefer us to evacuate this territory before the Wandering Titan arrives, we will do that instead.”

Yerin breathed deeply. She hated feeling like she was cornered like this, and the fact that they had left her with no option other than to do as they wished made her want to refuse out of sheer brick-headed stubbornness.

But that would be stupid.

“This will help me work in Sacred Valley?” she asked.

“The suppression field will affect you no more than your peers,” Emriss confirmed. “You won’t be able to fully express the powers of a Herald until you reach the peak of Archlord no matter what we do, but this will remove the weaknesses and potential problems that might prevent you from getting there.”

“And you’re all telling me to do this?”

“You’d be stupid not to,” Larian said bluntly. “You’ve got time to get anybody you really like to safety, and even if everybody else dies, you’ll be able to save more later.”

The Blood Sage nodded along, which almost made Yerin change her mind.

“Right, then.” She’d hoped to return to Sacred Valley with her chin up, proudly saying that she’d taken care of the Dreadgod. But if she couldn’t do that, at least the suppression field wouldn’t cut so many of her strings anymore.

So there wouldn’t be any confusion, she continued. “As the Uncrowned King—Queen, whatever—I’m wishing for you to fix me up. Do what you can for me.”

And, because she didn’t want to leave too much of a bad impression on the collected Monarchs, she added, “Thank you.”

Though this was the wish they had decided on her behalf, so her gratitude had definite limits.

A great pulse of will passed between all the Monarchs, and they nodded as one. Yerin got the impression that the wave of intentions and willpower had moved far beyond them, connecting to Reigan Shen and Sha Miara and maybe some others, wherever they were.

“As the arbiter of the Uncrowned King tournament and the representative of the Monarchs’ collective decision, I agree to grant your request,” Northstrider said formally. “Brace yourself, and receive your reward.”

Suddenly the images of all the Monarchs flickered, and they were standing before her…but they were also standing thousands of miles away, and their wills reached out and held her, cupping her, surrounding her like an eggshell.