But, using the dream tablets that Eithan had given her long ago, Yerin had pieced together how to do it. If she beat her Shadow in a head-to-head clash of wills, she could add its power to her own.

That would win them this fight, almost certainly.

But it would permanently weaken the Shadow. They would be giving up a weapon against Sophara in the finals.

Her Blood Shadow stalked closer to Min Shuei. “You have had your—”

“Silence,” the Winter Sage commanded.

The Shadow’s voice seized up, and she even stumbled in its step.

“I don’t need advice from parasites. Yerin, it’s win or die. And with the Shadow’s influence in your soul weakened, you will find it even easier to sense the Sword Icon.”

Yerin couldn’t rid herself of the Blood Shadow entirely this way, at least not without injuring herself. It could only be drained so far.

But she could weaken it. Change the power dynamic between them forever, so that Yerin was always the one in charge.

And it would win them this fight.

She walked up to the Shadow until they were almost nose-to-nose. She remembered all the times that it had tried to swallow her up. She still remembered the sticky, wet noise of her parents’ blood hitting the walls.

But it had been a long time since then.

She also remembered the spirit blindfolding itself and straining to reach the Sword Icon. Emerging from her spirit to save her from Meira’s scythe. Fighting by her side to save Lindon. Drawing power from Yerin’s life and spirit…only to leave her alive when it could have killed her. Slipping out of her spirit in the middle of the night to change a wounded animal’s bandages.

When was the last time the Shadow had really tried to take over?

“Let her go,” Yerin said quietly.

An imperceptible force disappeared from around the Shadow’s throat, but the spirit still didn’t speak, watching Yerin in silence.

Yerin looked into red eyes. “You need a name.”

The Winter Sage protested, but Charity held her back. “Coordination would be easier if they worked together.”

Min Shuei glowered but didn’t object any further.

“Can’t name myself,” the Shadow responded, but Yerin felt a wary hope from her.

“Hourglass is running down,” Yerin warned. The first named spirit she thought of was Little Blue, so she threw out a suggestion. “Big Red.”

The Shadow flinched back.

Yerin didn’t appreciate the reaction. “Not your mother, am I? How about just plain ‘Red’?”

“Scarlet,” Charity suggested.

“Blood Yerin,” the Winter Sage put in. “You could call her ‘Blerin.’”

Everyone stared at her.

“You think I care what you name it?” She muttered. “Nobody names their tapeworm.”

Yerin couldn’t stand to waste another second. “We could list out red things all day. Let’s pick something and be done.”

“Ruby,” Charity said.

The Shadow nodded slowly. “Ruby. Yes.”

“That’s the one you like?” Yerin had just sworn not to spend any more time on the Shadow’s name, but she couldn’t believe it. It sounded too…frilly, like it was the name for some little girl’s doll.

“Rubies are worth a pile of gold, and people can’t get enough of them, and they’re nice to look at. I like Ruby.”

“I can’t believe this is how we’re spending our time,” Min Shuei muttered.

“Names are important,” Charity said. “But we need a new strategy. Yerin, the binding of your sword should trap even a Blood Shadow as developed as Crusher.”

“It will,” the Winter Sage confirmed. “If the Shadow can cover you while you activate the field.”

“Ruby,” the Blood Shadow corrected.

“Can you?” Yerin demanded.

Ruby gave her a disturbingly familiar grin. “We can take turns.”

21

As they’d learned in the last fight, Yerin could stop the first of Crusher’s strikes.

During their training inside Northstrider’s pocket world, Ruby had absorbed enough blood aura from the Heart’s Gem and enough essence from Yerin that it had developed a copy of her Steelborn Iron body.

It wasn’t as perfect as Yerin’s, because the Blood Shadow hadn’t evolved enough to have earned a true human body, but it was more than good enough for their purpose.

So even before the fight began, Yerin started channeling madra to her sword. It struck her how ridiculous it was that she was betting not just her own success, but Lindon’s and Mercy’s lives, on her Blood Shadow.

But she continued when the wall dropped and the hideous beast leaped at her. Her decision had been made, and there was no time to question it.

Ruby’s dark blade crashed into Crusher’s claws, and the air exploded again. Yan Shoumei fired a huge red needle—a Striker technique—and Crusher landed to swing at Ruby one more time.

But the Shadow had done her job. Yerin had needed only moments.

Frozen Blade madra and icy aura erupted from her sword.

White blades hung in the air like snowflakes as restrictive force enveloped them all. Yerin had an easier time controlling the madra than she had before, but it was still like wrapping her arms around the neck of a mad bull and trying to steer.

Ruby dashed through the aura as Yerin forcibly kept the technique away from her. She still had to dodge the madra crystals in the air, but that wasn’t too difficult.

Yan Shoumei had pushed the technique away, surrounding herself with that gem-like barrier of blood madra, but Ruby crashed through it. Her dark blade swung for Shoumei’s throat when the Redmoon artist’s hand came up in a claw.

Blood aura seized Ruby, and she froze.

Yerin gritted her teeth at the effort of maintaining the Winter Sage’s technique, and her core drained quickly. The Madra Engine would restore her when she had a moment to breathe, but it hadn’t done anything for her total capacity. She wasn’t Lindon.

Meanwhile, Crusher’s arms were starting to move. The monster growled and snarled as it shoved against the restriction of the technique with brute force. When its fur came in contact with the floating razors of ice, blood sprayed, but the creature kept pushing.

Yerin didn’t know if Crusher would break the technique or shred itself to pieces first, but she didn’t intend to maintain the stalemate. Shoumei was preparing another technique against the frozen Ruby.

Yerin prepared to drop the boundary field…and then a surge of madra from Ruby caught her attention. The Blood Shadow was speeding up their plan.

After the second round, Yerin had chosen the black sword from the Archlord vaults on Charity’s advice.

Honestly, she hadn’t been happy about it.

There had been swords of every description, and Yerin could have wandered through the vaults for hours in awe, but Charity had restricted her to the most boring option. A sword that could fit in her soulspace and could be used by her Blood Shadow.

It was like showing her a beautiful steak and then feeding it to a hungry dog right in front of her.

The black sword was called Netherclaw, named for the beast that guarded the Netherworld in the mythology of some culture Yerin didn’t care about.