Then again, Yerin was perhaps her natural enemy.

Yerin could match up to Crusher’s strength, however briefly, and her own Blood Shadow copied a large measure of that same power. That alone mitigated Shoumei’s biggest advantage.

In virtually every other category, Shoumei was outmatched. Yerin had more powerful techniques, more combat experience, and a powerful will for her level.

He had hoped for a win, and even coached Yan Shoumei personally for a few days, but ultimately it affected little.

He had always been playing for second place.

He sent Seshethkunaaz a message through vital aura.

“Are you going to buy her out?”

The reply was quick in coming. “I have no interest in bribery. Whoever wins the contest is most worthy of possessing the prize.”

Reigan Shen chuckled. That was an easy stance to take when you were almost guaranteed to win.

“I think I’ll try my hand, then,” he sent.

“Do as you wish.”

Malice would never allow her final representative to give in to temptation, but it couldn’t hurt to try. A victory that was almost guaranteed still left too much room for error.

Instead of reappearing in her waiting room, Yerin re-formed in a room she’d never seen before.

Instantly, she drew her sword.

It was a small sitting-room filled with blankets and plush furniture, and everything was some shade of purple, black, or silver. From silver lamps covered in purple shades to purple tapestries hanging on the walls sewn with images in black.

A moment later, a woman emerged from a door in the corner, wearing a simple purple dress.

Yerin had never seen Akura Malice up close with her own eyes before, only from a distance or in the blurry memories of others.

This was clearly her.

She looked like Mercy’s older sister, with the addition of black lips, amethyst nails, and hair flowing behind her like shadows. She looked Yerin up and down with eyes an even brighter purple than her children’s.

“Don’t be startled,” she said. “Shen was trying to contact you, so I decided to keep you close.”

Yerin slid her sword back into its sheath, but she shivered at the thought of Reigan Shen’s contact. If a Monarch wanted revenge for the defeat of his champion, she was in for a rough life. And probably a short one.

“Thanks for cutting that off,” Yerin said. She collapsed back onto a purple-cushioned couch.

Though her body and spirit had been restored by Northstrider, she was still mentally tired. It had been a long day.

Malice looked surprised for a moment. Maybe Yerin hadn’t been supposed to sit, but she felt like she should have some privileges as Malice’s only remaining fighter, so she sank even deeper into the cushions.

It was the most comfortable seat she’d ever experienced. She tried not to sigh in relief.

“I’ll have to hold you here for a moment so Shen gets the message, and it’s about time that you and I got to know each other anyway. Which means you now have a Monarch at your disposal.”

Malice sat in a throne-like cushioned chair, crossed one leg over the other, and leaned one elbow on the armrest. “How can I help you win this tournament?”

“Expect you’d know better than I would.”

Malice’s smile was slow and showed no teeth. Yerin didn’t trust it.

Or anything else about this woman, really.

“Charity and Min Shuei can teach you almost anything I could. Though I have more skill and experience than they do, imparting it to you is another matter. You must advance to have the tools to win, and if you somehow fully manifest the Sword Icon, you will of course win handily.”

Malice gave a frustrated huff. “But no one develops such stable authority before Archlord nowadays, sadly. It used to be more common, but then Paths had a much lower survival rate.”

A question occurred to Yerin, but she wondered if she had enough spine to ask it.

Then she remembered that this Monarch’s life was currently in Yerin’s hands. If she didn’t take advantage of it now, when would she?

“Found a question for you,” Yerin said casually. “Why do you treat your daughter like your second-favorite dog?”

Malice’s smile didn’t slip, or even flicker. “Should I have rewarded her for failure? The world is not so kind. She had every advantage, just as Sophara did, and yet she came up lacking. Should I have soothed her feelings by pretending there are no consequences when she put our family in danger?”

“She’s your family.”

Malice’s easy, casual acceptance was only making Yerin angrier. Charity came across as cool and distant, but genuine. Like she was really that detached from everyone else.

This Monarch struck Yerin as an experienced liar.

“She is a member of my family,” Malice corrected. “A valuable member, and one who I’m very fond of and in whom I have invested time and attention. I would be devastated to lose her, but if I did, the family would continue. The Akura name is greater than any one member. Even me.”

Bold as she was being, even Yerin wasn’t so cracked in the head as to call a Monarch a liar to her face.

But she came close.

“Say I lose, and Sophara gets Penance. She kills you. Heralds crash on Fury, kill him, kill Mercy. You’re telling me the Akura clan doesn’t slide right down after House Arelius?”

Malice waved a hand lazily, still unshaken. “Of course the family still needs a Monarch. It’s the position that’s important, not who fills it. You also must know that I wouldn’t allow myself to bet everything on one turn of the cards. I have plans to account for your loss.”

That let off some tension Yerin didn’t realize she was holding.

“But those are a last resort. If you lose, then your failure still puts my family in danger.” There was no extra spiritual pressure and Malice’s face didn’t change, but her words carried an extra edge. “If I had to give up Fury and Pride and Mercy for the good of the family, it would tear my heart out, but I would do it. So I suggest you fight as though your life is on the line, because if you don’t, you can imagine my…disappointment.”

Maybe Yerin’s survival instinct had been knocked askew by her fight today, because she felt no fear at the threat, only anger and disgust.

“You can bet I’ll bring everything I have,” Yerin said, “because it’s not my life that’s on the line.”

Whatever plans Malice had, it was clear that Lindon, Eithan, and Mercy would be safer if Yerin won. So she would win even if it killed her.

“Wonderful,” Malice said pleasantly. “I’m glad we understand each other.”

Yerin was certain they didn’t.

“Now, as I said, Charity has been doing a fine job putting you in a position to advance, but I could give you my perspective.”

“…please,” Yerin said grudgingly.

She didn’t like this woman, but she wasn’t so upset that she couldn’t recognize an opportunity.

“An Icon, as I’m sure you’ve picked up, is a symbol of a powerful concept. The more you represent that concept, the better. In your case, you yourself must become a symbol of swordsmanship. Not in the eyes of mankind, but by the measure of something deeper.”