Which left Pride to pour madra and soulfire into one huge blow against the Stormcaller. The lightning artist managed to get his shield in front of him in time, so the strike launched him into the jungle. At which point he must have fled, because he didn’t show up again.

Pride did not acknowledge them. He dove deeper into the fight.

“He has the right idea.” Naru Saeya pushed up to her feet. “Eliminate as many as we can.”

As she said it, a further light streaked down from heaven. Now that the battle had destroyed many of the trees in the area, the sky was clear, and Lindon could see the golden column stretching between the sky and the earth. It wasn't close; it seemed to be falling at a distant end of the island.

Dross, how long has it been since the first crowns appeared?

[Six minutes exactly,] Dross said. [Well, not exactly. As closely as I can estimate. Is the error in the timing of the crowns, or in my calculations, or in your fleshy human brain?]

“Well, that's a wonderful chance,” Eithan noted.

Now that there was another crown, the competitors who were interested in an easier battle had started to slink away. Even those who wouldn't have a chance to reach this distant crown would leave, because now it was clear that more crowns would appear every few minutes. Only those close to actually seizing this prize stayed behind.

The fight closest to the crown was a three-way battle between two blood artists in black leather and misty red veils that looked like Goldsigns and a woman who was clearly a member of the main House Arelius. Her long, yellow hair was tied back into a braid, her blue eyes were bright, and she wore tailored green pants, a ruffled pink shirt, and a short green jacket. The Arelius crest was sewn in white on the back of her jacket.

Bright sparks crackled on each of her knuckles, and Lindon thought they must be the beginnings of a two-handed Striker technique until they never went away. Her Goldsigns, then.

[House Arelius, though even you could tell that. The others are disciples of Blood-Chorus; he's one of the warlords controlled by the Eight-Man Empire.]

A Forged red wolf leaped from one of the blood artists. The Arelius woman pierced it with a lance of crackling light, but a gust of bloody rain landed against her and started to burn through her skin. She screamed, stumbling back, but still put up a shield to defend herself.

When she saw Eithan, she brightened and shouted something. Once again, Lindon felt as though he almost understood, unsure whether it was another language or a thick accent.

[She wants him to help,] Dross explained.

That had been obvious, but Lindon was still curious. Can you understand what she says?

[Of course I can. I was originally the guide construct to an international facility.]

Can you translate?

[Sure, yeah, no problem. Ahem: she says something along the lines of, ‘I want you to help.’]

Lindon's hopes were dashed.

Pride landed among the Blood-Chorus artists before Eithan reacted. He landed a black-rippling punch on one and shrugged off an attack from the other with the gray haze of his defensive Enforcer technique. One of the blood artists made a grasping motion, and Lindon could feel the power of blood aura spike as Pride staggered. A Ruler technique.

Before Pride could counter it, silver sword madra crashed into one enemy and black arrows ravaged the other.

Eithan helped the Arelius woman to her feet. She asked him a question and he responded in the same language.

While the rest of the team cleaned up the two from Blood-Chorus, the Arelius woman said her farewells to Eithan, cast a last regretful glance at the gold column of light, and then ran off into the trees.

“Pardon if you don't want to answer,” Lindon said, “but what did you say to her?”

Eithan waved a hand as though to say it was nothing. “Oh, certainly. She asked me if I would help her seize the crown, because the further House Arelius makes it, the better chance we have to rebuild. I said something about me being a core descendant of House Arelius who fled after the death of our Monarch, and she said that she understood and would leave this crown to me. Then she ran off to wait for the rest of her team to return.”

Eithan's smile was unshakeable, and Lindon couldn't read anything in it. The rest of the team had eliminated the Blood-Chorus pair and was defending the crown's beam of light.

Lindon stared at Eithan, waiting for him to elaborate.

[...I think he's telling the truth,] Dross said.

“Do you ever intend to tell us where you came from?” Lindon asked, a little irritation leaking into his voice.

Eithan's eyebrows rose. “Did you want to know? You've never asked me.”

Lindon stopped. Surely that couldn't be true.

“I have certainly withheld other information from you, but you've never once asked me where I came from.”

“Oh. Apologies. So...where did you come from?”

Yerin shouted as Pride's hand closed around the crown, and both Eithan and Lindon turned.

Yerin had a hand on the hilt of her sword, and Pride's body swirled with Enforcer techniques as he kept his eye on her and held the crown in one hand. Gold light still streamed from the ground into the sky, passing through his arm.

“I'll be dead and buried before I let you wear that,” Yerin said.

Pride stood about two inches shorter even than Yerin, but he still looked down his nose at her. “You have quite an attitude for a servant.”

Her Goldsigns flexed, silver madra gathering on their points, and Eithan stepped out with his hands raised.

“Hold on, everyone, hold on! It's times like these that we should remember that we are on opposing teams and should therefore fight to the death.”

Saeya held her sword defensively between her and Mercy. Mercy looked frustrated, but still conjured an arrow to defend herself.

Lindon felt as though they were all rushing to conclusions. “Pride,” he called, “who should get the crown?”

Pride continued his staring match with Yerin for a long moment before he looked over to Lindon. “The one who has the best chance of making it to the end of the competition. My sister.”

Yerin and Mercy looked equally surprised.

“Agreed,” Lindon said. “But there are supposed to be twenty-eight more crowns. We should carry this one with us until we have at least two more.”

“So that your team can use them all?” Eithan squinted suspiciously. He raised his fist to the sky. “The Akura family keeps their boot-heel on the common man once again! Down with the oppressors!”

[Ah, there's...one more thing you should perhaps consider,] Dross said, but Lindon continued the conversation.

“Apologies, five more,” Lindon corrected, keeping his frustration under control. “If they keep to the pattern, another one will appear in six minutes. Ten an hour, at which point the first round of people eliminated will return. If we're the largest group here, that's plenty of time for us to get enough for everyone and wear them all at the same time.”

Dross tugged at his attention. [That's a great plan, I really admire that plan, but there's some information you might not have.]

Yerin and Pride nodded to one another, withdrawing their spirits. Saeya sheathed her sword, and Mercy had already happily banished her technique.

Eithan held up a finger. “Ah, but what if more crowns stop appearing after a certain number are held in place? Also…” He lowered his finger to point off to the east.