Then Charity swept in, one of her owls perched on her shoulder. “I’m afraid not. You’ll be accompanying my father back to Sky’s Edge immediately; we need him back in place without delay. Congratulations, Yerin. Your training has now become our family’s number one priority.”

Lindon was paying attention to Yerin’s reaction, so he felt when blood madra surged within her. She grimaced as she suppressed her Shadow.

He expected her to respond lightly, but she pressed her fists together and bowed. “I’ll be grateful.”

The Winter Sage looked delighted. “You’ll see amazing things if we can get her to Overlord, I guarantee it.”

The stirring blood madra inside Yerin stilled as she spoke. “Means I could use another training opponent, true?”

Lindon saw where she was going with this, and he brightened.

It would be a shame to give up the opportunity in Sky’s Edge, but if the full resources of the Akura clan were focused on Yerin, he could potentially get more from helping her train. Surely they would want her training partner to be as strong as possible.

And, of course, he’d be with Yerin.

“You will no longer have time for that,” Charity said, and Lindon’s vision was crushed. “Min Shuei and I will be handling your training directly. Sparring against others at your level will have only minimal impact at this point.”

The Blood Shadow went from silent to fighting so violently that everyone felt it.

This time, the struggle inside Yerin caused the air around her to glow red. She strained visibly, forcing the parasite down, but both Charity and the Winter Sage had their attention focused on Yerin.

“…and we’ll have to seal that thing,” the Winter Sage spat.

Charity shook her head. “On the contrary, we’ll need to improve its state of existence. It’s perfect willpower training, and I can’t imagine any advantage we could give her in only two weeks that is better than a more complete Blood Shadow.”

The Winter Sage staggered back in shock.

When Mercy had learned that Aunt Charity couldn’t transport them to Sky’s Edge on her own, she had felt a nervous fluttering in her stomach.

When Malice had sent word that she would be the one to cast them on the first leg of their journey, Mercy’s nerves had gone from fluttering to churning.

Then her mother had instructed Mercy to arrive early for a private talk.

That was when Mercy really began to feel sick.

The Monarch hadn’t spoken with Mercy since her loss, nor made her opinion known to the rest of the family. She had stayed as aloof and apart as ever.

As a result, Mercy didn’t know how her mother felt about the fight against Sophara. But she wouldn’t be pleased.

Mercy arrived in the floating Monarch viewing platform to find it occupied only by one person. Dozens of comfortable seats remained empty, the corners of the vast room were draped in shadows, and the silence echoed in the empty space.

Her mother lounged in a dark throne, hands folded in her lap, waiting for Mercy to enter.

Mercy had far greater access to Malice than most anyone else, but that still meant that months often passed with no contact between them at all. As she approached, she felt as much as she ever had that she was a stranger in the presence of her Monarch.

She went to one knee, bowing before her mother. “My greetings, Mother.” While she didn’t enjoy being so formal, she wasn’t sure what else to do.

“Rise,” Malice commanded.

Mercy did, hoping to see the Monarch soften into a mother. When her smile remained cold and distant, Mercy knew she was in trouble.

“How should I treat someone who let the family down so badly?”

Mercy straightened her back. “I know my weaknesses better now, and I’ve already started to train my Dream of Darkness again. In the future, I will do my best to represent you better.”

“In the future?” Malice asked. “You’ve failed already.”

The Monarch spoke offhandedly, but Mercy’s heart tightened.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

Malice sighed. “Failure can be a teacher, and of course one can try one’s best and still fail. There is no such thing as an undefeated warrior. But you have my Book. You carry my bow. You represent me. Should you be treated as though you were victorious?”

Mercy happened to think defeat was often punishment enough, and there was no point in disciplining someone who had tried their best.

But then…had Mercy tried her best? It could be hard to tell. She felt like she had, but what if she hadn’t been motivated enough? What if she could have done more?

“There is no physical punishment that could motivate you,” Malice went on, “but you must feel the sting of failure if you are ever to appreciate success.”

Around the room, shadows opened into windows that looked out onto other locations. Other people.

Purple eyes turned in surprise as miniature portals appeared next to other members of the Akura clan. Whatever was about to happen, Malice was displaying it to dozens of people, and Mercy’s cheeks began to burn in shame already.

Aunt Charity appeared, looking faintly disturbed, but she said nothing. When the window appeared next to Fury, he glanced at it and then waved it closed. Pride scowled through his own window.

Then Mercy saw a window opening onto Yerin and forced herself not to squeeze her eyes shut. Malice was spreading her punishment to a wide audience, not just the family.

And she dreaded the window that was going to open next. It would be Lindon, she knew it. Yerin was one thing, but if he witnessed Mercy being punished by her mother like a little girl, that would be even more mortifying.

She waited in agony for the next window to open.

It never did, which was one tiny relief.

Malice’s eyes shone purple in the darkness. “Mercy. Let the family witness my displeasure. You have dragged the Akura name through the mud. Though you use the Book of Eternal Night, though you carry my own bow into battle, even so you failed. You are a disappointment to me, and to all of my descendants.

“You have let me down, and you have let the family down. You will dedicate your mind and soul to repaying this debt, or you will no longer have the right to call yourself my daughter.”

Mercy kept her eyes fixed on the ground.

She said the only words she could possibly say in that moment: “Yes, Mother.”

Lindon stepped into a towering pillar of darkness alongside Eithan, Mercy, and Fury.

As he’d experienced back in the Night Wheel Valley, all his senses disappeared. He was blind and deaf to the world, unable to feel even his body. Only he and Dross drifted in endless darkness.

Not only did Charity have to stay and train Yerin, but Fury needed to return to Sky’s Edge faster than a Sage could carry him.

Even a Monarch couldn’t transport them there directly without a permanent portal, but she could put them on the continent at least. From what Lindon gathered, they would emerge somewhere in the western Blackflame Empire.

[I wonder if we’ll fly over your home!] Dross said happily.

With a strange rush, Lindon realized they just might.

Of course, they might not. They were talking about many thousands of square miles and hundreds of possible routes, so there was nothing to guarantee that they would come out anywhere near Sacred Valley.