The entire purpose of the Blood Shadow was to steal power by killing or possessing others and bring that power back to the Bleeding Phoenix, but Yerin hadn’t allowed hers to escape.

Not since it had killed her parents.

Yerin launched another Striker technique as fast as she could. Not at Calan. At the Shadow.

The smartest thing would have been to kill him and end the match, but she had reacted out of pure guttural disgust.

No Blood Shadow would have a meal where she could see it.

The Shadow sliced her technique in half with its black blade and winked at her. Uninterrupted.

This time, Yerin used the Endless Sword. The Shadow’s black blade was close enough to Calan; she could cut his throat from here and end the duel.

Yerin’s sword rang…and so did the Shadow’s.

Sword aura was agitated for a moment, but then it died out. The spirit had canceled her technique.

But Yerin had reached the limit of her patience.

She kicked off with all the power of her Steelborn Iron body, a dune’s worth of sand spraying up behind her. Bright specks of blood essence were flowing into the Shadow, and it was cycling its own madra to fight Yerin.

Yerin began cycling the Final Sword.

So did the Shadow.

In a frontal contest, Yerin would win. She was still stronger than the Shadow, and sword madra operated on a more spiritual level than blood madra did. But that was only in terms of whose technique would destroy whose.

The Shadow had a strong element of blood madra, which would tear flesh apart. What would happen if Yerin died while it survived? Would the match end? Or would the presence of Yerin’s Shadow be enough for Northstrider to continue the fight?

Yerin’s sword shone bright silver-white, and the Shadow’s was silver tinged with bright red. When Yerin landed, they were both a hair’s breadth away from completing the technique.

But Yerin didn’t finish it. She swung at Calan.

The Shadow read her intentions and stretched out to defend her meal, but there was one area in which Yerin clearly outmatched her copy: physical strength.

The Blood Shadow gained a measure of the Steelborn Iron body thanks to Yerin’s blood essence, but it was nothing compared to having the real thing and a corporeal body to back it up.

Yerin’s blow slammed the Shadow’s sword aside and split Calan into two pieces.

Instantly, his body blurred into white light. His legs shone as they were taken away as well.

In the moments after the Ninecloud Soul announced Yerin’s victory, Yerin stared into her Shadow’s eyes.

The Blood Shadow licked its lips and patted its belly.

She didn’t need the bond between their spirits to understand its intentions.

It was full.

17

How would I do against Calan Archer? Lindon asked Dross.

[He couldn’t even handle Yerin’s Blood Shadow. Do you think you can handle Yerin’s Blood Shadow? You can.]

Lindon sat in Yerin’s waiting room, watching the fight conclude on a projection construct. That made two members of the Uncrowned he was certain he could beat.

But only two.

Ziel was a mystery, and Dross agreed. His brief rampage against Brother Aekin had astonished Lindon, before Ziel had succumbed to spiritual injury. Whether Lindon won that battle depended on how much Ziel could express his power and how long he could stay whole.

But the fact remained that Aekin and Calan were the only ones that Lindon was confident against.

[You know, you can train against them some more if you’d like.]

Tonight, Lindon promised.

He wasn’t likely to fight Sophara anytime soon, and losing over and over to Dross’ illusory version of her was depressing him. If he fought outside of tournament rules, he could win, but he still had no confidence in defeating her in a straight-up fight.

He needed new opponents, and the two Uncrowned that seemed weakest would be perfect. He was growing tired of losing so much, even in practice.

The important thing was that Yerin had won.

She had grown stronger, which he was glad to see, so now she would enjoy the prizes of the top four. And she was the only hope remaining for the Akura clan to win Penance.

Now, they would spare no expense for her.

Lindon clenched his right hand. The Consume technique alone might not be enough to catch him up to Yerin.

His desire for the prizes of Sky’s Edge redoubled.

Yerin re-entered the waiting room with her body and spirit repaired. Not that she’d suffered much injury. She gave off the spiritual impression of someone in peak health.

Though she looked miserable.

Mercy screamed and cheered and clapped all at once when Yerin arrived, but Yerin didn’t bother to respond. As for the Winter Sage, she looked like she was ready to grind steel between her teeth.

“We must seal that parasite,” she said, the moment Yerin appeared.

“Are you crazy?” Mercy asked. “It almost beat the Stormcaller on its own!”

“It’s out of control!”

“Then we should help her control it!”

While they debated—Mercy not backing down in front of a Sage—Lindon watched Yerin. She looked like she’d just lost the fight.

He had to try something.

“I didn’t know your master,” Lindon said quietly, “but I know he would be proud.”

Her face wrinkled until he thought she might cry. “Would have been proud of me if I’d done it. Why would he give one thin hair for a match my Shadow fought?”

Lindon knew he might be stepping into hotter water, but from what he’d learned from Yerin, he thought he’d put together a decent picture of the Sword Sage’s personality.

“Apologies, but do you really think he would care how you won?”

She looked like she wanted to argue, but the cloud over her face slowly lifted.

“Adama would never have allowed your Blood Shadow to develop to this point,” the Winter Sage said with certainty.

Lindon wanted to punch her, Sage or not, as Yerin’s shoulders slumped again.

The Sage noticed and backtracked. “But he would have been proud of you, of course. Whatever the…means…you cultivated the Blood Shadow yourself, no different than a weapon you created. He would be very proud. But he would be more proud if—”

Maybe it was the look on Lindon’s face or maybe she realized what she was about to say, but the Winter Sage cut off her own words.

“Well, at least top four’s a treat,” Yerin admitted. “When do I get my prizes?”

Lindon had been wondering that already.

“There’s a ceremony for the top four tonight, but the prizes won’t be ready for a few days. We’ll have them sent to us back at the School.”

Yerin glanced up to Lindon. “Two weeks until the next round.”

That reminder raised complicated feelings in him.

On the one hand, he’d barely gotten to talk to Yerin at all since he’d been back from Sky’s Edge. Now that chance was over, and two weeks sounded like forever.

On the other hand, he was confident he could earn two thousand points in two weeks. Maybe a little more, since Abyssal Palace was supposed to receive reinforcements. That was one more prize, maybe two.

From that perspective, two weeks felt too short.

“We have the rest of the day,” he responded.