She was still an Underlady and a dragon, so she hit like a kicking horse. But Lindon had the Soul Cloak moving through him, and he snatched the tail from the air with his right hand. He hauled on it, pulling her off her feet.

In the meantime, both red dragons flowed away in pulses of white light.

For a few seconds, Lindon was engaged in hand-to-hand combat with both gold dragons. Without his training at the Akura family, he would have had to disengage and run. This time, he held his own, matching their blows without giving ground.

Even without Enforcer techniques, they were almost as strong and fast as he was. But the Soul Cloak made the difference, so he was able to move around them, keeping them in each other's way, preventing them from using their number to their advantage.

Lindon had been most concerned about the green dragon interfering, but he was filled with black arrows. His scales glowed emerald as he focused his life madra on himself, trying to purge himself of Mercy's shadow-venom.

It did no good when Naru Saeya's rainbow sword slashed through his neck.

Eithan strolled up to Lindon's fight, casually slapping the Underlady in the face as he tripped the Underlord. They rolled to the ground, and Mercy had them bound in Strings of Shadow before they could react.

Even so, they began to tear through the madra. Their spirits were coming back under their control...slowly but surely, they would regain their powers from the effect of the Empty Palm.

But Lindon was no longer concerned about them. He stared through the trees at the two retreating pillars of golden light. Sophara was running.

And something else was barreling through the trees at them.

The black dragon obliterated the two trees that the reds had knocked over. Lindon couldn't tell if it was a male or a female; it had a long, snake-like black body, with two huge wings and a pair of massive claws in front. Its eyes were like Orthos'—solid darkness with two fiery rings where its irises should be.

It blew dragon's breath down the forest.

Rather than black-and-red, like Lindon's, this was a solid bar of darkness with a few red sparks here and there. It radiated the power of destruction so strongly that the smaller pieces of debris nearby crumbled to dust and burned away in its passing.

Eithan, of course, reacted first. He held both hands out, and pure madra spun around him, catching the Striker technique as though in a whirlpool. It twisted, spinning back at the dragon.

But the black serpent took his own attack on his scales, ignoring it, and swept its breath from side to side.

This time, it was Lindon's turn.

He dropped his pure core and drew on Blackflame, his eyes heating up as they matched the black dragon's own. The Burning Cloak ignited around him and he leaped forward, driving his white fingertips into dark scales.

His hunger arm began to feed.

Before reinforcing his arm with the Archstone, it had been difficult to draw madra into his cores. The Ancestor's Spear had used scripts to guide madra in that way, and though the binding was capable of the same thing, it had to be carefully controlled.

Since then, Lindon had grown much more familiar with the technique, and it had grown stronger. But he rarely encountered madra that he wanted in his core.

This time, he feasted.

The dragon's madra flowed through his arm and into his channels, surging into his Blackflame core. The energy was wilder than his Path of Black Flame, more primitive and savage, with a heavier emphasis on destruction. It was as though his human madra had diluted it, and this was the primal source. But it was compatible, so he drew as much as he could.

In only a second, the dragon noticed what was happening. It cut off its breath, convulsing wildly, trying to shake Lindon off. Lindon held on with the strength of the burning cloak and the power of his Remnant hand. The hunger madra even helped, latched on to the serpent like a leech.

Finally, the dragon twisted around and breathed a Striker technique into Lindon's face. Lindon raised his left hand and met the dragon's breath with the same technique.

From inches away, Blackflame met Blackflame.

Dark fire exploded, incinerating leaves and consuming the edges of Lindon's Akura sacred artist's robes. He stumbled back, the force of the dragon's spirit pushing him away, losing his contact with its scales.

For a moment, they glared at each other with identical eyes, neither backing down.

Then the dragon was riddled with Striker techniques.

The rest of Lindon's team tore it to shreds, and the sacred beast shrieked and twisted. He was astonished that it didn't die immediately.

It tried to get off another dragon's breath, but finally it dissolved into white light.

Lindon caught his breath, trying to still the fiery storm in his core. His channels ached, and he would need Little Blue's help when he returned, but they were victorious. Their ambush had worked flawlessly.

An enraged scream shook the forest ahead of them.

“BLACKFLAME!” Sophara's voice echoed.

And the two crowns moved back toward them.

Lindon hurried over to Eithan. “We have to stick together. There are six of us. We can hold her off.”

Eithan looked into the distance. “Can we?”

Lindon thought he understood the implication and cast out his perception. They had not been quiet, and Eithan must have sensed enemies closing in.

But Lindon didn't feel any. Even the few native creatures of the island he sensed were fleeing, as though they had been frightened off. It was only Sophara.

Pride stood at the front of the group, black lines on his skin whirling, chin tilted up. Shadow madra shrouded his arms.

Mercy crouched in a tree, arrow held in each hand. Eithan stood off to one side, and his smile looked more like a grimace of anticipated pain.

Saeya cradled one arm and spread her wings, forcing her sword up. Yerin stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Pride, blade clutched in both hands.

Lindon's spirit and body ached, but whatever burst through the underbrush, they could handle it. He coaxed some soulfire out of his spirit and fed it into a dragon's breath.

[We certainly look prepared,] Dross said. [I have a good feeling about this.]

As the two columns of light from the crowns approached, Lindon and his allies all unleashed Striker techniques. Even Pride hurled a stick like a spear.

Flames of liquid gold crashed through them like a tidal wave. Lindon couldn't imagine releasing such a large technique so quickly; one second, there was nothing, and the next second the trees had been swallowed by gold dragon's fire.

His bar of Blackflame punched through, as did Eithan's pure madra, but before he could sense if they'd done anything, Sophara was among them.

Eithan and Pride reacted first as the dragon-girl landed, tail lashing, golden scales falling around her face like hair. Pride's strike was like a crack of black lightning, and Eithan came down on her with a spear of blue-white light.

A golden disc, etched with script, was Forged in the air above her head. It intercepted Eithan's attack, and she ignored him, instead wrapping her tail around Pride's wrist and wrenching his attack off-course.

But she didn't follow up with an attack. Instead, she rushed forward, fueling her jump with a soulfire-assisted Enforcer technique. She was dashing to the back...where Mercy, Saeya, and Lindon waited.

Dross, Lindon demanded. He had already called up the Burning Cloak, and black-and-red light played around him. The explosive strength of Blackflame filled him.