But Lindon didn’t protest. He tucked his key back into his robes.

Pride wondered if he was too embarrassed to say anything. While it would be gratifying to see Lindon lose after that arrogant entrance, Pride still held on to some hope that his confidence was justified.

As nice as it would be to see Lindon’s opinion of himself taken down a notch or two, Pride wanted the enemy to lose.

An orange barrier appeared in the air in front of Juvari as she began weaving dream aura. There was nothing so formal as a signal to indicate the start of the match.

A bar of Blackflame punched through the barrier, but the Silent Servant had already completed her Ruler technique. She held out her hands, and while it was invisible to Pride’s mind, he sensed an overwhelming, tempting dream.

Even on the sidelines, he wanted to give in, to see whatever vision she was going to show him. He blinked his way free.

Lindon’s white hand was already around Juvari’s throat.

And he was draining her.

Power flowed into him, just as Pride had seen before, but this was somehow even more frightening. It was powerful and thorough, and Pride couldn’t help but wonder if he himself could escape if he found himself in Lindon’s grip.

Spikes of dream madra pierced Lindon’s head, but he ignored them completely.

Juvari’s spirit became weaker and weaker. Even her lifeline faded in front of the horrified onlookers.

One of the Overlords Forged and threw a spear, but it was knocked aside by a blast of pure madra.

“Did you see that mosquito?” Eithan shouted.

Lindon released the woman in his grip, and she crumpled to the ground. She was still alive. Judging by what Pride saw of her life and spirit, she would live, but it would take expensive treatment to return her to fighting shape.

Pride expected the dream madra to vent out of Lindon’s arm, but instead it cycled up to the base of his skull. Where his mind-spirit lived.

Lindon looked to the Overlords and bowed with his fists pressed together. “Gratitude. Who’s next?”

Pride’s opinion of Lindon went up a level.

They didn’t play the game after that, of course. They blasted Lindon until he was forced to retreat, mocking him and shouting names.

The thunder from overhead slowed as the battle from Heralds began to die down, and the enemy grew restless. They lobbed techniques at the Akura Golds, forcing the combat-capable Lords to defend them.

Lindon had ruined their game, which made them angry. And they couldn’t send an Overlord into the ring either, with Eithan standing there grinning like he was waiting for a chance.

As the uneasy peace deteriorated further, Pride walked up to Lindon. “Open your void key,” he said.

Lindon eyed him. “Why?” he demanded.

Pride couldn’t stand his attitude. Why did Lindon treat everyone else with respect except him?

Then again, Pride hated the way he apologized for everything just as much.

“I have something to give you.”

That brought a greedy glint to Lindon’s eye, which made Pride reconsider what he was doing.

When Lindon opened his closet-sized void key, Pride opened his own…and withdrew the Diamond Veins.

Lindon’s brow furrowed. “Pardon. You trust me to carry these now?”

Every word stuck in Pride’s throat, but they had to be said. “Is there anyone else on our team who can put them to better use?”

“Gratitude,” Lindon said, and Pride had never heard him sound so sincere. He pressed his fists together and bowed.

That improved Pride’s mood immensely.

“Is your uncle still paying out contribution points?” Lindon asked, when the icy blue crystalline construct was in his hands.

“He hasn’t said anything. But if I know him, the situation getting worse will only make him more generous. He loves it when people do well in a fight.”

“Good.” He surveyed the forces surrounding them. “It takes three days to process these Veins. Then I’m going hunting.”

A gold light shimmered in the open space they’d been using as an arena, and the cloudship appeared again.

The enemies immediately began hammering it with techniques, but Eithan waved them all aboard. “This was one of Reigan Shen’s pet projects. It can withstand anything short of a Sage or a Herald, so have no fear and get aboard!”

A hatch opened in the side and a ramp extended down to the cloud bed. No less than three attacks flew across it: a flying sword, a beam of blood madra, and a ball of fire. They would have struck anyone crossing the ramp to board the ship.

“Have no fear, I said!” Eithan announced more loudly.

Pride lifted Grace with one arm and Courage in the other, using wind aura to support them more comfortably. The other able-bodied among them carried them up to the ship.

The surrounding enemies had held back up to this point for fear of killing their quarry, but now that safety was nearby, they let loose. Forger, Ruler, and Striker techniques lit up the air, and weapons rained down.

It was only thanks to the combined defensive techniques of all their Lords, including Lindon’s dome of blue light, that they made it aboard without losing more lives. There were still injuries, but no further deaths.

Lindon was the last one, staring out the hatch and back down, and Pride found himself wondering what he was thinking.

An Overlord spirit flared, and Pride shouted a warning. An arrow, shining with golden light, blasted into the open deck.

It hit the edge of Lindon’s blue field and weakened, but not enough to stop it. It flew forward, still a deadly attack.

A blue nimbus sprung up around Lindon as he used his full-body Enforcer technique, and with his white hand he snatched the arrow out of the air. The force carried him backwards five feet, but it didn’t hit him. It didn’t strain his spirit. It didn’t tear his arm off.

He landed, examined the arrow, nodded appreciatively, and then tucked it into his void key.

Back in the Frozen Blade school, Yerin sat in front of a pile of presents wondering where to start.

Before she’d been taken in by the Sword Sage, Yerin’s parents had celebrated her birthday by hiding a few small toys or trinkets for her around the house and setting her loose to go find them.

She hadn’t felt anything like that since. Until now.

After agonizing deliberation, she decided on the package she wanted to open first. It was wrapped in Forged life madra so dense that it looked like a nest of real, living vines, and an accompanying card of polished wood showed the name of the sender. Or so the Winter Sage said.

Yerin tore away the vines around Emriss Silentborn’s prize, revealing a shimmering brick the size of her palm. It carried veins of every dark color, and it pulsed eagerly in her hand.

A quick scan of her spirit told her it was a dream tablet, but more complicated and deeper. It felt almost like a hundred dream tablets all nestled into one.

The Winter Sage ran her own perception over it and gasped. “That is a sword codex. It contains the memories of thousands of sword artists of all advancement levels as they practiced or meditated on their techniques. It’s invaluable for any sword Path. Can I…could I borrow it when you’re not—”

Charity, who was sitting in a chair nearby sipping tea, cut her off. “Any codex provided by Emriss will be of the highest quality, and this will help you develop your connection to the Sword Icon. However, it requires years of practice to show its full value.”