A black figure loomed over them, shining gold, as Era crushed a blue ball. A gatestone.

An instant later, they were back in the Abyssal Palace itself, the fortress that now hovered over Sky’s Edge. He and Era rolled to a halt on the polished floor, and only then did the pain penetrate.

His ribs were fractured, his arms useless, and he couldn’t feel his legs. Era struggled to her feet, groaning, and then he saw that her sleeve was a ragged, bloody, empty mess where her left arm used to be.

An acolyte cried their names and ran for help.

Maraan let his pain wash over him. With trembling effort, he turned to look at the Staff of Condemnation, which had snapped into two pieces. An Overlord weapon he had been given along with his position.

His head fell back down to the tile.

This was his own fault for not paying more attention to the Uncrowned King tournament.

He had thought of the competition only as a way to prove their value to Reigan Shen and for his apprentice to gain experience. But Maraan knew Brother Aekin’s strength better than anyone; he had practically raised the boy.

Aekin could not handle opponents like this. And this boy hadn’t even made it into the top eight.

No…Lindon hadn’t beaten him under tournament conditions. In fact, he’d given his life for this temporary power.

If he wasn’t dead now, he’d be crippled for life.

Maraan consoled himself with that knowledge as he allowed the acolytes to carry him to medical care.

He spoke with great effort to Era as they were both gathered up. “What…was his name?”

“Lindon Arelius,” Era responded grimly.

“We struck…a great blow…killing him. They will…want…revenge.”

The fights had been mostly bloodless so far, but this was worthwhile. Maraan may be in recovery for a few weeks, but the Akura had lost one of their rising stars forever.

Lindon peeled himself out of the armor, letting Little Blue berate him as he fed each plate back into the void key.

He deserved her lecture. Not for the reasons she was upset, but he deserved it nonetheless.

She was angry that he hadn’t accepted her help, and insisted that he could have made quick work of the enemies using her power.

He didn’t regret leaving her in storage, but with every piece of armor he loaded back into the void key, he couldn’t help calculating how much repairs would cost.

Fifty or sixty points, he suspected. And the fight had earned him zero more.

Well, the twenty from completing the assignment of clearing out an Abyssal Palace tower, but he was always going to get those.

[We have information on how the prototype performed in real, live combat!] Dross said cheerily. [That will cut down on costs in the long run, since instead of performing more tests in the boring world of flesh, we can perform them inside my amazing mind.]

“It’s too fragile,” Lindon said.

[You were like a rock covered in steel and wrapped in more rocks.]

“Not me, I mean the madra layers in the armor. They can’t handle the resonance, so the armor tears itself apart. Instead of a sacred instrument, it’s like strapping simple constructs all over my body.”

[What’s so wrong with that? You could be the construct man! That would certainly be memorable!]

“If I want to fight once for five minutes a week. Even if we could solve that, I didn’t…like it.”

The armor was too bulky. Not just physically, but spiritually, as though he had to lift heavy weights with both his body and his madra.

“I can’t help but think there’s one technique that would provide the same benefits without being so…complicated.”

[Look at it this way: it only cost you points to make an entire team retreat!]

His pure core was still almost half-full, his Blackflame core virtually untouched. His madra channels were sore, but no more so than after a day of hard exercise, and his body had handled the strain of all those Enforcer techniques unscathed. He could fight another battle immediately, if he had to, thanks to the effects of the Heaven and Earth Purification Wheel.

But the thought only depressed him further, and he gave a heavy sigh. “We still don’t know what happened to Pride. If he…”

He trailed off, but if Mercy’s brother died under his orders, it would be his fault. And the Akura clan had taken him to task over Harmony. If Fury’s nephew was killed, what would his response be?

Charity was supposed to take Lindon back to the tournament in only two days. He couldn’t hide from her. What would she do to him?

Lindon had sent messages requesting updates on Pride’s condition, but no one so far had responded.

So it was with a heavy heart that he stood on his Thousand-Mile Cloud and began drifting back to the camp.

He was surprised to run into Pride halfway there.

He was standing behind the control panel of the small Akura cloudship, racing across the dusty plains. His collar was still smeared with blood, and there was a scar across the side of his throat that looked like it had been healing for weeks.

When he saw Lindon, he pulled the cloudship up alongside him in an instant. “You got away!” Pride said in evident surprise.

“Apologies.” He bowed over fists pressed together.

Pride scowled. “I didn’t think I’d have to tell you not to waste gatestones. What were you thinking?”

That was not what Lindon had meant to apologize for.

“I was trying to save your life.”

Pride gave him a blank look. “Why would my life have been in danger?”

“He had his knife to your neck!”

“And did you see me use my armor?”

“He drew blood!”

Pride stared at him for another moment and then opened a void key. Like some other Akura void keys Lindon had seen before, it was blocked with shadow madra so he couldn’t see within.

A moment later, he emerged with a dagger and stabbed it into the side of his own neck, pulling it out as blood gushed onto the console in front of him.

All the while, he wore a reproachful look.

The blood stopped flowing almost immediately, and Pride wiped the knife clean.

He tried to speak, coughed, spat up some blood, and continued. “A dagger to the neck is only threatening blood loss. Between my Iron body and one of my Enforcer techniques, it is almost literally impossible for me to bleed to death.”

“Well, I…did not think of that.”

Lindon had seen Pride’s abilities before. He should have put that together.

If the Underlord had activated a binding in the dagger that might have cut Pride’s head off, Pride would certainly have sensed that and used his bloodline armor.

So he had been in no danger at all.

[If it helps at all, I remembered all that, but even I didn’t know he could brush off a knife to the throat. It’s good to remember when we end up killing him.]

Pride’s eye twitched. “You don’t have to save me. Remember that. Just worry about yourself.”

Lindon’s own irritation with Pride returned, and he gave an even deeper bow than he had before. “Pardon, but would you mind letting your aunt know? I don’t want to owe her another debt if you die.”

Pride ground his jaw. “Get on the ship.”