Dross hissed through his teeth, glaring at her and then at Lindon. A moment later, their surroundings vanished.

It was as though Lindon, Yerin, and Dross stood on darkness and were surrounded by endless black. The Sword Sage appeared a moment later, lifelike, holding his sword back.

Yerin reached out. “Seeing him with my own eyes again…” Before she touched him, she lowered her hand. Her lips twisted. “That’s a knife to the gut.”

Power gathered on the tip of the Sage’s blade, then he stepped forward to drive the light forward.

“Hold,” Lindon commanded, and Dross froze the scene. He groaned as he did so, as though to emphasize how much effort it had taken.

Yerin and Lindon examined his stance, his spirit, and the light beginning to stretch from the end of his weapon. It was a bare ghost of a sword, not the full, vivid technique they had witnessed in the dream tablet.

“Soulfire, madra, aura,” Lindon said. “All woven together so I can’t tell where one begins and the other ends.”

Yerin leaned closer until her chin almost touched the technique. “Something’s tickling the back of my mind. I had a better sense from the dream tablet, but I think there’s something else about this technique. It’s itching at me, but I can’t track it down.”

Something else beyond the madra, aura, and soulfire...

“Do you think it could be a Sage’s power?” Lindon asked quietly.

“That’s a hair off the target. I wouldn’t contend it’s another power…but I’m not stone certain it isn’t.”

[Uggggh aaaaaannnnd that’s all you get.]

Abruptly, the vision snapped off. Lindon and Yerin stumbled back into reality, standing in the middle of the training room.

Dross panted heavily, heaving exaggerated breaths, and even swept one of his stubby pseudo-arms across his forehead as though to wipe away sweat.

[I told you it wouldn’t last long. And if there’s something you couldn’t sense in my simulation, it’s because this one—] He stabbed an arm at Lindon. [—didn’t pick up on it. Or the dream tablet didn’t. Or I didn’t. But I’d put my bets on this one.]

Dross slipped back into Lindon’s spirit, but Lindon was already thinking along lines that he had tested in his own Paths.

“You’ll need to layer techniques,” he said. “It’s like using a Ruler technique, Striker technique, and Forger technique at the same time. It might take soulfire to hold it all together.”

Yerin’s sword was out of its sheath, and she swung it to limber up. “You’ve tried this before, have you?”

Lindon coughed into his Remnant arm. “It was harder than I thought.”

“I’d rather swallow my sword than try this without the Diamond Veins,” Yerin said, settling into a stance like the one her master had taken. “Likely to shred my channels to pieces. Even if we do get it right, the rocky part will be using this in battle. Haven’t practiced enough to form a binding, so I’ll have to practice until it’s carved into my spirit.”

“We’ll be with you,” Lindon said.

Dross groaned.

Yerin flashed him a smile as aura began gathering around her sword. The weapon started to hum. “Say we do get this right. We ought to think of a name for it.”

Lindon started making a list.

~~~

When he wasn’t needed for the tournament, Northstrider vanished back to the ball of dark, floating water that served as his Monarch viewing platform. Or so most people believed.

Eithan found the Monarch sitting on the ground of an alley in Ninecloud City, eating grilled vegetables wrapped in a layer of soft bread. He could not have looked less like he belonged. His massive, muscular frame made him look like he’d squeezed in between the two buildings, and his ragged hair and mismatched clothes belonged in a much dingier alley.

This alleyway was paved with smooth quartz and it had been cleaned with admirable zeal, even in the places most couldn’t see. Mentally, Eithan saluted the Ninecloud cleaning crew.

Golden eyes fixed Eithan, and he had to close down his spiritual senses in order to keep breathing. If he sensed the full attention of Northstrider upon him, he would lose control of his madra.

The Monarch’s eyes returned to the floor, and he took another bite of his vegetable wrap. A floating barge passed overhead, music and laughter and flashing lights drifting over them.

Eithan gave a beaming smile. “What a lovely evening we’re having, wouldn’t you say?”

Northstrider chewed.

“You know, I was reading up on your Path, which is of course quite famous. A fascinating study. There are scholars who have made their entire careers of unraveling your secrets.”

The Monarch reached into a tear in space, pulling out a clay jug. He washed down the vegetables.

“As I’m sure you know, I have some students in this tournament. One of them has a very interesting arm.”

Northstrider produced a second vegetable wrap.

“Not a unique arm, certainly. In many parts of the world, hunger bindings are not at all rare. But I’m sure it didn’t escape your attention. I thought you might be intrigued to know that the arm isn’t his only aspect that might interest you.”

Eithan’s view was replaced by a brief flash of blue light, and then he appeared in the center of a crowd. It was a party, from the looks of it, with colored lanterns floating overhead and hundreds of people dressed in their finest. A few of the closest staggered away at his sudden appearance, but by then he was already moving.

Northstrider had transported him to a completely different section of the city. Someone else would have been lost.

Eithan began navigating back toward where he had just been. Easy enough. Now, where can I find one of those wraps?

~~~

Lindon sat in the team’s waiting room. His Akura robes had been repaired, his spirit was full of madra, and his soulspace brimmed with soulfire. That gray flame played around his shield, which was now in spiritual form, soaking up the fire for nourishment.

In his mind, he and Dross went over the plan.

[I give you a twenty percent chance,] Dross said. [Two out of ten. That’s a lot better than nothing!]

For the past week, since the end of the third round, Lindon had done virtually nothing but run mental battles against Sophara. He and Dross had combed the Ninecloud tablet library for all records of her matches, and Dross had even made her faster and smarter to compensate as much as possible for the training she’d be doing on her own.

Over hundreds of fights, they had identified the keys: he had to focus on surviving the first few exchanges, then put enough pressure on her to make her use her drop of ghostwater. That would be the hardest part.

If he survived until it ran out, he could finish her.

If he couldn’t, then the Monarchs would get closer to allowing the Dreadgods into Sacred Valley. And a gold dragon who personally hated him would become the most celebrated Underlord in the world.

And he, himself, would miss the fastest path to Overlord. His journey would slow to a crawl.

Mercy dashed into the room in full Akura uniform. She didn’t slow down, throwing herself against him and wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

Lindon’s thoughts staggered to a halt, though he didn’t physically move. Her slight weight crashing into him might as well have been a breath of air.