She had wanted a little more time.

“Then in return, I lift the seal on the Book of Eternal Night. Let your power be returned to you.”

The first page flipped to the second, and Mercy felt her mastery of the Shadow’s Edge returned to her in full. Then the third page, and the Nightworm Venom flooded back.

Her spirit surged from Highgold all the way to the peak of Truegold on the edge of advancing. Where it belonged. Soulfire rushed from the book back into her spirit.

Mercy looked up expectantly. She was looking forward to what happened next.

A smile touched the edge of Malice’s lips, and she waved her hand again. “And also, I return to you the full measure of your physical talents.”

It was like her skin had been a poorly fitted suit, and now—with a shudder that passed through her bones—it had been tailored for her. She took a deep breath, stretching one arm, then another. She wiggled her fingers.

Her eyes grew hot with tears. It had been too long since her body had been hers again. To prove she could, she sprang into a backflip, spinning her staff all the way around her body as she did so. She landed in a handstand on the top of her staff.

Then she released one hand, holding it out to the side as she balanced on the other. There was nothing holding her up but the staff, and it didn’t even tremble.

Effortless.

Mercy dropped, spinning Suu into the air and catching it. She didn’t stumble. Didn’t fall.

“That was the worst part,” she admitted.

“To strip away what the family gave you, I had to include your Puppeteer’s Iron body and the results of your training. Even with your spirit restricted, you would have had it too easy.”

Malice rarely explained herself, but she looked as though she was relishing her daughter’s joy. That warmed Mercy’s heart, and she squeezed Malice’s fingers in return.

“The others curry favor with me because they can strive for nothing more,” Malice said. “You should be different. Ascending to the Lord realm means accepting who you are, not who you will be.”

“That’s what Aunt Charity said.”

“And who do you think taught her?”

Mercy smiled up at her mother, but Malice’s face was no longer pleasant. She was looking over Mercy’s shoulder, into the darkness.

“As per our arrangement, I expect you to advance immediately. I need you as an Underlady, not a Gold. Once you have, report directly to Charity for transport. You may not return to the Blackflame Empire.”

“Yes, mother,” Mercy whispered. Then she realized what Malice had said, and she looked up in confusion.

“You will lead our team in the Uncrowned King tournament. Fury and Pride will be informed. I expect you to represent us in the individual matches, so your instruction will resume at an increased pace. You have missed a year of training, and I need you in shape.”

“Did you say…are you not taking me now? Are you leaving me here?”

The shining purple eyes of the ancient Monarch met hers. “Do you not have unfinished business here?”

This was Mercy’s chance. She released her mother’s hand, bowing low. “I beg you, as a personal request from me, to save my friends.” Damage to Yerin’s lifeline was a minor inconvenience to a Monarch, and she could send their enemies back to the Seishen Kingdom with a thought. Or evaporate them. “For me, will you intervene on their behalf?”

“I don’t need to intervene,” the Monarch said. “You will.”

~~~

Kiro's armor was falling apart, he'd used far more madra than he could believe, he'd lost his shield, and his arm was trembling so badly that he felt like he was about to lose his sword. His body ached all over, and his left arm was numb.

If he let Lindon keep shooting him, he was going to die.

He burned everything he could of the armor's power, and it shone at the edges, flooding him with strength. It wouldn't last long, especially not with so much damage, but it would make him far faster than his own Enforcer technique.

Before Lindon could activate his launcher construct again, Kiro was on him.

He slashed at Lindon, who reached into his void key once again. The Blackflame pulled out his axe, its haft a long bone, its sharp edge gleaming red.

Kiro's sword was turned, but he struck with enough power to force Lindon backwards. He couldn't let up; again and again he struck, and again and again Lindon was overpowered. The Truegold’s white arm began to crack, spraying madra into the air like blood, and Lindon flinched with visible pain.

But Kiro couldn't get that final hit. He was faster and stronger, but Lindon kept slipping by.

The Titan's Blade technique expanded the size of his sword tenfold, and he slammed it down on Lindon like a hammer of judgment.

Lindon stepped aside as though they were dancing and he knew all the steps. A fiery black-and-red haze sprang up around him, his eyes glowing, and Kiro braced himself to receive an attack.

Then the Truegold turned and ran.

His Enforcer technique gave him explosive strength, and he dashed around the central spire. On instinct, Kiro chased after him. His mind only engaged afterwards. Had Lindon run out of madra? Was he weaker than Kiro had expected?

Kiro launched a bright blue lance at Lindon's back, but once again, Lindon slipped aside like he had eyes in the back of his head. Maybe Lindon practiced a core cycling technique that improved his spiritual sense; it would explain how he always escaped with his life.

Rounding the spire, Kiro caught a glimpse down the halls at the two other battles. Meira was engaging the sword girl and her Blood Shadow. The Truegold had lasted longer than he'd thought; he would have expected her to be dead by now. It looked like Meira was struggling to escape, but there was no way that could be true.

She would be fighting to save him.

Well, there was no need to worry about her. Daji looked like he had his fight in hand; some Forged strings of black madra hung from the ceiling, and he was holding a bloodstained sword in each hand.

Kiro could only pray to the heavens that his brother hadn't killed the Akura girl. He should never have left her to him…but then again, he couldn’t have left his little brother to face that Blackflame cannon either.

Then he turned the corner, chasing Lindon, and lost sight of Daji. Meira was fighting in the hallway opposite him, but he focused on his prey.

Lindon had come to a stop in the middle of the hall, tossing his axe back into his void key. The closet-sized entrance zipped shut, leaving him holding nothing. He stood, quietly watching Kiro.

The lights went out and flickered back on in an instant, flooding Kiro with panic, but when the shadows faded, Lindon looked as confused as he was. He hadn't followed up on Kiro's instant of distraction.

So Kiro would be the first to move.

His sword swelled with the Titan's Blade, and Kiro thrust forward, the power of his armor fueling the attack. It was so fast that it astonished even Kiro, almost instant. There would be no dodging this.

Lindon caught it in the palm of his white hand.

The Remnant limb fractured again, barely holding together, and Lindon shouted in pain. A binding triggered deep inside, and Kiro felt his Titan’s Blade destabilize, the technique fading. He pulled his sword back, its length ordinary again.

The Truegold stood in front of a natural treasure display, panting and cradling his broken prosthetic arm. It was difficult to look past him; the light from the display shifted and danced, and it was hard to make out exactly what was in there. At first, it looked as though the nook was filled with living creatures scuttling and squirming, but then Kiro would have sworn it was filled with paintings. Actual paintings, framed in canvas or spread out on huge wall scrolls, decorated every surface. But no, maybe they were statues...