Layering techniques onto arrows like that was much harder than it looked. He had experience combining compatible techniques while building cannons, and he knew what kind of madra control and how much practice it would take.

And what could he have done against that echo Forger technique from her bow? The barrage of arrows would have destroyed him. His Hollow Domain could have eliminated a weaker version of the technique, but each arrow was too strong and too solid to be erased.

That was when it was being used by an Underlady, who had to struggle to maintain an Overlord’s madra at the same time. The technique would only show its true power when used by a real Archlord.

[And that completes my model of both Mercy and Sophara!] Dross said cheerfully. [Yes sir, it’s getting easier and easier. Between the Arelius library and Northstrider’s codex, I’m more amazing than ever before. Do you want to know how you stack up against them?]

Lindon watched Mercy pull her bow back with her teeth.

I already know.

So that was what a fight between two Monarch heirs looked like.

He had been proud of his battle with Yerin, but Mercy must have seen them as children playing. She or Sophara could toy with Lindon as they pleased.

[Ah, well, actually, I’m not sure you know what I was going to say.]

Lindon stood up from his seat. We’ll practice against them tonight.

He couldn’t say he was looking forward to it. Just when he had gotten somewhat of a grasp on fighting Sophara, she’d advanced.

[We don’t have to, you know. We could do something fun instead, while everyone else you know and love progresses without you.]

It didn’t matter how far Mercy outclassed him. His answer was the same as it had always been.

As Suriel had once told him, “There are a million Paths in this world, Lindon, but any sage will tell you they can all be reduced to one. Improve yourself.”

Though he didn’t have time to be concerned about himself at the moment.

Akura Malice’s daughter had lost to Sopharanatoth. The power balance between the Monarchs was shifting.

Mercy was at the center of it.

[I could use a vacation too. Working all day, all night. I don’t mean to complain, but my working conditions—]

Lindon cut him off. I need you on something else. What security measures are keeping us separated from the Uncrowned?

He walked behind the stands and through a sealed passage, where a bare hallway led to a locked and scripted door.

Within was a cloud that led down to the waiting rooms behind the arenas. Now, only the Uncrowned and their sponsors were allowed back there. Lindon no longer had permission to enter.

He pressed a hand against the door and extended his perception.

[Well, let’s see…it’s all Lord-level security, of course, because a Sage or a Herald will be able to force themselves in anywhere. The Ninecloud Soul is monitoring the outer layer of security, but it’s nothing incredible. They’re counting on the Monarchs to be watching and protecting their own candidates; this is just to keep out the rabble.]

Lindon reached his pure madra through the script that required a ward key to activate, and he began warming up the hunger binding in his arm.

“Apologies if I’m intruding, Monarch Malice,” Lindon said aloud. “But please don’t stop me.”

Sha Miara sensed the alarm of the Ninecloud Soul as someone broke through the security at the back of the Akura viewing tower.

Her perception covered him immediately. It was the other pure madra Underlord, Wei Shi Lindon Arelius.

She chuckled. He was trying to get to the Uncrowned, but he hadn’t earned that right. She stretched out to lend her power to the Ninecloud Soul, to remind him who was in charge in her court.

Her spiritual sense was swallowed in shadow.

Miara sat bolt upright in her seat, from which she’d been watching the fights. “I was doing you a favor,” she said.

Akura Malice and the entire Akura area remained completely dark.

Miara flipped a hand and fell back. “Fine! You deal with it, then.”

Mercy emerged from her waiting room sheepishly rubbing the back of her head in a gesture she’d adopted from Fury.

“Sorry! I messed up.”

Fury himself put his hands on his hips and laughed. “What are you worried about? You fought your hardest! I wish I’d had any competition like that!”

He was forcing it.

Mercy and Fury had always shared certain similarities, so she could read him better than most. He was acting carefree for her benefit.

But she appreciated it, so she smiled for him. “I almost had it!”

Ordinarily Fury was the open book and his daughter was an icy riddle, but this time Charity did a worse job hiding her true feelings. She glanced to Fury and then softened as she turned to Mercy. “It was never fair for you to worry about this. You’ve done your best, and now Sophara is our problem.”

“She sure is,” Fury said, and there was a soft menace in his voice.

It was tempting to fall for that lie, transparent though it was.

All her life, Mercy had complete faith in Charity and Fury. They were unstoppable, and more present and human than her mother ever had been. They could be counted on to do anything.

Now, not only would the Dragon King do anything to protect his future champion, but the very heavens would intervene to defend her.

Mercy pushed Suu against the ground and stood straight. “It won’t be too long before you can lean on me! I’ll keep working hard!”

“For now, you should rest,” Charity said.

Fury looked to the exit at the end of the hall and perked up. “Oh, hey! It’s—”

His daughter elbowed him in the ribs.

He had obviously sensed something, but whatever it was, Charity had stopped him from saying it. She was probably being considerate to Mercy, and she appreciated the thought. She couldn’t handle any bad news at the moment.

Shadows deepened on the floor as Charity and Fury began to sink into a spatial transfer. “We’ll talk to you tonight, Mercy.”

They vanished, leaving Mercy to her thoughts.

She kept replaying moments from the fights in her mind. Little things she could have done differently, moves she could have prepared for.

The competition had been close enough that it could have gone either way. If she had made better decisions, she could have won. If she had advanced to Overlord for real, as Sophara had, she could have won.

It was easier for sacred beasts, but would that matter to the people in Sky’s Edge who would have to face dragons on the battlefield? Would that matter for her mother, if the dragons got Penance?

She opened the exit and saw Lindon crouched on a Thousand-Mile Cloud.

He had folded his bulky frame in half to examine a script-circle low on the wall, and his white Remnant fingers were half-sunk into a shimmering construct that he’d pulled halfway out. Dross was manifested on his shoulder, pointing to a specific part of the construct, and as the door opened both of them turned wide eyes on Mercy.

Lindon released the construct and straightened, smoothing his outer robe. “Ah, apologies. I thought I could make it here faster.”

Dross disappeared, and Mercy peeked around Lindon’s shoulders. There was no one else behind him.

“Did you break in?”