“I don’t want my name to spread, but the name of the Blackflame Empire. I need you to make that happen.”

It hadn’t been an easy journey for her, but Saeya had eventually admitted the truth: she wasn’t cut out for this. The more she trained against Yerin, the more she saw the girl’s unlimited potential. Potential Saeya didn’t have.

Besides, her true passion wasn’t advancement. She just wanted her home to prosper.

Eithan stretched one arm, then the other, the thread-of-gold on his ornamented robes flashing in the sun. “Bargain struck,” he said. “Let’s go give them a reason to remember us.”

~~~

The second round worked as intended, dividing the number of participants in half, but it also split the Akura faction.

Only one of the Frozen Blade competitors made it out, and none of the Akura backup team. Akura Grace told them how the team of dragons found them before they made it to Lindon, and she had been eliminated. When she returned, she hadn't been able to claim a crown in time.

He was greatly relieved when he saw that Eithan and Yerin had both passed, though neither Pride nor Naru Saeya had managed to secure a crown before time ran out. He had mixed feelings. True, the fighters most likely to win had passed, but Pride and Saeya had given up their personal chances for the team. That only increased the weight on him.

When they returned to their rooms, Mercy and Lindon were gathered together and visited by the Ninecloud Soul.

“Congratulations on passing the second round!” The warm voice said from within the rainbow light. “In the morning, you will be led to the Archlord prize vaults, from which you will select one sacred instrument of your choosing. In future rounds, you will be permitted to use weaponry up to Archlord in your matches...although allow me to caution you that an Underlord weapon suited for you will produce far better results than an unsuitable Archlord weapon.”

“Understood!” Mercy said brightly.

Lindon's imagination was already running away from him.

The Archlord vaults of the Ninecloud Court? What would they be like? Why did he have to wait all that time until morning?

“One week after you claim your prizes, you will fight in the third round. These will be one-on-one matches to the death, although of course the protection of the honored Northstrider is still in effect. However, unlike later rounds, you are not competing as an individual, but as a team. Only when the last member of your opposing team loses will you be considered victorious.”

Mercy stepped closer to the rainbow, hands clasped behind her back. “Question! Can the same person fight each time?”

“Full rules will be provided to you tomorrow, but yes, of course. As long as you win. Someone who loses this fight is eliminated from this round...but not from the competition. Either your whole team will survive, or none of you will.”

[Ah, so last round was intended to reduce half the remaining individuals, and this is designed to get rid of half of the remaining teams. It's like some kind of human-eliminating system.]

“Who is our opponent?” Lindon asked.

The light flashed, acknowledging him, and the image of a human bound in chains appeared in its center. Lindon had noticed the man around the tournament, but hadn't spent any time investigating him. He looked older than thirty-five, haggard and worn and no more than skin and bones, but maybe captivity could do that to someone.

“You face the one remaining member of the black dragon team. He was registered in the tournament as the Black Dragon Prisoner.”

[You know, I saw his name on the lists, and I assumed I was reading it wrong. Or there was something wrong with your eyes.]

“During the second round, he was unchained and left to his own devices,” the Ninecloud Soul went on. “He ran around the island eliminating everyone and everything he encountered. Our records do not make it clear whether he sought out the crown or whether he accidentally ended up with it after killing everyone else.”

The image of the man started wildly thrashing, tearing at his restraints, snapping his teeth and lashing a long black tail behind him.

“Now that the rest of his team has been eliminated, we have decided to list him under his real name: Naian Blackflame.”

Dross gasped. Mercy covered her mouth with a hand and looked to Lindon.

Lindon watched the broken man strain against his chains.

For almost two years, Lindon had heard about how the Path of Black Flame would erode the mind, body, and soul. He had seen Orthos' transformation after the damage was reversed by the wells of Ghostwater.

But he had never seen what happened to a human.

After a few more pleasantries, the Ninecloud Soul vanished, leaving Lindon in a quiet room with Mercy. Birds chirped from the rafters, and clear water babbled as it ran in a creek throughout the room.

When Mercy finally spoke, her voice dragged out as though each word pained her. “I'm sorry to do this to you, but it gets worse.”

[Doesn't seem too bad so far!] Dross said to both of them. [It's all of us against a mad, injured prisoner. I feel like we can handle it.]

Mercy searched Lindon's eyes as though checking to see if he was ready for bad news before she continued. “We didn't do well enough last round.”

That was no surprise, though it hurt to hear.

“Monarch Shen's Dreadgod teams still have eight people left,” Lindon said. He'd seen the lists. “Sophara is still ranked first, and most of the other top ten ranks are taken by the Ninecloud Court. We do not have the strongest individual, nor the most participants, nor the best team.”

As he spoke, his feelings firmed: he was still confident.

“And what does it matter?” he went on. “The only thing anyone will remember is who is still standing at the end.”

Mercy's look was full of compassion, but she and Lindon were drawn to the door at the same time as they sensed a powerful presence approaching.

“Not the only thing,” Mercy said.

Fury burst through the door a moment later, hair scraping the doorframe and chest bare from within his outer robe. Knocking must have been a courtesy he left behind in his advancement.

Lindon bowed over a salute, but Fury waved that aside. “Monarch meeting is finally over,” he announced, throwing himself down on the couch. “We're losing.”

“What was on the table?” Mercy asked quietly.

Her uncle—who, now that Lindon thought about it, was technically her older brother—raised his head to peek over a cushion. “You should come to these things, you know. If you keep it up with your advancement, you'll lead the family someday.” He let his head drop back down. “And then I wouldn't have to go.”

“I know the Dragon King must be gaining influence...” she prodded him.

“Yeah, his little snake is making the rest of us look bad. Charity thinks the dragon girl might end up a Sage, and if she makes it to the top eight, I won't be able to deal with her myself.” He let out the longest, most drawn-out sigh that Lindon had ever heard. “The cat and the snake are speaking with one voice, and thanks to little Sophara and those cults, the rest of them are listening.”

[I can guess what he means,] Dross said, [but I'm a little afraid he is actually talking about cats and snakes.]

Reigan Shen and the Dragon King are working together, Lindon explained, though in truth he didn't understand much of the situation.