“I walk my Path,” she said, “so my mother will be proud of me.”

The soulfire sparked, consuming the treasures in an instant, and passed through her body in a single breath.

It was as much of a change as when she’d shed her curses and returned to her power as a Truegold after most of a year as Lowgold. She gasped, feeling the new power in her spirit and body.

She was Underlady now, and it had only taken a second. She wanted to cheer.

But now wasn’t the time. She had a job to do.

“Chapter two,” she said, and the power of the Book of Eternal Night surrounded her. Its pages began to shift.

“Page four.”

An instant later, her new arrow shattered the wall.

She walked up to Daji, who had struggled his way free of her webs. She placed a hand on his head, and he looked up, rage and terror warring in his eyes.

“Learn from this,” she said.

Then she unleashed the Strings of Shadow technique. The first technique she had ever mastered.

Leaving him wrapped in a dark cocoon, she hurried forward, only to run into Lindon running from the other side. He looked so different that it startled her, but now wasn’t the time to gape.

Yerin needed their help.

~~~

Pulling back the rushing vines of green life madra, Meira glared at Yerin. “If Kiro is dead, I will kill your friends. I will kill your family. I will kill everyone you’ve ever loved, you’ve ever known. I will kill, and kill, and kill, and kill, until you wade through a river of blood with every step.”

Lindon was already an Underlord, and he was moving closer. She could feel him.

Red light flashed, and screams echoed through the halls. Yerin had never sensed that technique before, but from the feel of it, she could guess what it was: Lindon’s axe.

“He’s dead,” Yerin said.

Meira screamed, and vines shot from the tree again. Yerin’s Blood Shadow leaped, stopping them with its Goldsigns and rasping out a whispery laugh.

It could laugh now. That was…horrifying.

Yerin needed the distraction. She hobbled over to the sword display, which she could only sense once she got close enough. Its power pushed against the script like the weight of a river against a dam.

The Blood Shadow was overwhelmed in an instant, slammed against the wall. Yerin felt a distant pain as Meira’s tree tore the spirit-parasite limb from limb. It made a wet tearing sound every time, and there was something especially disturbing about seeing something like that happen to your own body. Especially when the Shadow’s hungry grin never faded, even as it broke down to essence and flowed back to Yerin’s spirit.

Yerin’s body and spirit shook. Her sword trembled as she held it down and to the side, but she forced one more technique through it. The Flowing Sword. Her blade began to glow.

“Don’t you look all…” Her voice failed her for a moment, but she pushed on. “…all bright and shiny new,” Yerin called. “How many pieces am I going to have to cut you into?”

Meira didn’t answer, shouting again and launching more vines at Yerin.

“Let’s find out,” Yerin said. And with the Sage’s white sword, she scratched the scripted stone around the sword display.

Sword aura gushed out. If she moved an inch, it would slice open her skin. With the last of her madra, she seized that power. Controlled it.

Ruled it.

The Endless Sword gathered around her six Goldsigns, around the sword left by the Sword Sage, and aura blasted out from Yerin in a storm. Far more than she could ever hope to gather or control; she only activated it.

And Meira was overwhelmed.

If the Underlady had been able to move, she could have broken Yerin’s control, or dodged, or set up a defense. But Yerin had already seen that this tree required Meira to stay in one place.

The rest of the Underlady’s armor shredded away as she screamed, followed by her clothes and her hair. In only an instant, she collapsed onto the floor, a bloody mess.

Her scythe fell after her, plinking to the stone, its haft notched and pitted.

Yerin stood watching her, unable to move. With her madra exhausted, she couldn’t move the sword aura out of the way, so she was frozen. And her legs were already trembling with weakness. If she fell to her knees again, she would end up like a butchered pig.

When her Remnant shows up, I’m in a pile of trouble.

Lindon and Mercy ran into view, and both of them had obviously changed. Mercy looked an inch taller, her hair longer, her eyes brighter. She moved with an unfamiliar speed and grace, though maybe she would pitch onto her face in a moment and spoil that impression. Her armor was broken, the inner robe pierced on the left and right sides of her ribs, but unharmed skin showed underneath.

She had advanced. Probably to Underlord, given what Yerin had sensed earlier, unless Lindon had somehow managed to advance twice. How had she gone from Highgold to Underlord? With her spirit as weakened as it was, Yerin’s spiritual perception was too weak to figure it out.

Yerin felt a spark of jealousy, but there was no point in thinking about it too hard. It had never made sense that Mercy was so weak to begin with, so this was the restoration of the natural order.

But Lindon looked like an entirely different person.

His right arm looked like a human’s arm now, only chalk-white, and she was surprised at how much better it suited him than the monster limb. His Skysworn armor was cracked all over the place, but he carried it lightly. It was the smallest details that showed the largest change.

First, the soulfire transformation left him looking healthier than ever. His skin was clearer, his chin more defined, and he seemed to stand straighter. He looked like he had aged five years, but in the best possible way. He looked less like a sect leader’s evil son, and more like…well, a sect leader.

He and Mercy took in her situation, looking from Yerin to Meira, and only then did Yerin realize there was no Remnant. The shining green tree was still there.

Beneath the sheet of blood, Meira was healing.

Lindon approached Yerin slowly, keeping an eye on Meira, but his expression was concerned. “How do you feel?”

Yerin’s vision doubled again, and she sagged in place, the aura slicing into her.

Lindon couldn’t open his Copper sight in here, but his spiritual perception should have been honed as a Lord. He grasped the problem quickly.

An instant later, a colorless light passed from him as he called on his remaining soulfire. The pressure of the sword aura around Yerin retreated, and she drooped forward, almost stumbling.

He caught her.

She didn’t have the strength to stand, melting into him, but she tried to make a joke. “Usually it’s you collapsing and me picking you up.”

Her spirit shivered as he scanned her, and he stiffened. “Mercy, get me some treasures. Right now. Yerin, are you…ready?”

His voice trembled with fear, and Yerin forced herself to stand up straight. “I’ll show you what ready looks like.”

Mercy was already darting from display to display, pulling random objects from each. Yerin was having trouble focusing on her, and everything had started to turn gray around her.

Lindon gently lowered her to the ground, eyes concerned. Underlord really did suit him; now he didn’t look so much like he was trying to glare a hole through her.

Dross appeared over his shoulder, one big eye taking up most of his purple body. His voice slid into her mind, guiding her through the unity of aura, but she had already drifted off.