There were six techniques bound inside Lindon's resonance canon. All of those were striker techniques, all of them lethal. A violent riot of colours shot out of the end of the canon, screaming a deadly promise.

  Kiro lifted his shield.

  The canon's technique exploded as it met the prince's shield with a burst of deadly madra. The blast split to either side, and the two unknown Seishen Underlords split.

  Kiro held.

  "Dross," Lindon whispered. "Battle plan."

  INFORMATION REQUESTED: COMBAT SOLUTION AGAINST SEISHEN KIRO

  BEGINNING REPORT...

  [Are you sure you really need a plan for this? Alright! Alright... I'll focus].

  [First, he's mad. Like mad, mad . That makes it easier for us].

  Lindon dropped his cannon and pulled out a second.

  He emptied both cannons into Kiro's shield, and this time, under the endless barrage of his new weapons, Kiro's footing began to be driven back.

  [That shield is clearly of another quality. His armour, though...]

  Cracks began forming on Kiro's armour, where a mix of Whitehall's poison techniques and splatters of Lindon's artillery had struck. Beneath the outer plates, the cracks revealed a mix of shifting silver and gold madra. A network of bindings began to trigger all over the suit, linked by a method Dross did not understand.

  However, the cracks that had been caused by Whitehall's poisonous blood refused to heal.

  Kiro's eyes narrowed in anger, not at Lindon, but at Whitehall.

  [You're his biggest threat, but he's currently too emotional to see it].

  Kiro lunged for Whitehall.

  [That is fine. Whitehall can survive on his own for a few more seconds. We should go for the two unknown variables].

  To either of Lindon's side, Whitehall and Naru Seiya were having their own battles against the other Seishen Underlords. They fought in sync, exchanging opponents multiple times mid-fight.

  Lindon launched black dragon's breath at the Underlord currently fighting Naru Seiya. His striker technique pierced through the Underlord's back and struck the earth behind them, tearing a trench through the forest floor and igniting the trees with black fire. And he began to use it as fuel for his Void Dragon's Dance.

  Pivoting to the other side, where Whitehall was running and hiding from two Underlords, Lindon switched to his pure madra and activated his Soulcloak. He slammed into the unsuspecting Underlord and struck a Soulfire-infused Empty Palm.

  His technique drove the Underlord face-first into the ground, and Lindon quickly switched back to Blackflame and drove a dragon's breath through the back of their head.

  Kiro hadn't sensed the death of his two other Underlords. Or if he did, he didn't seem to care. Saeya sent a striker technique that sliced the remnants in half.

  Kiro did not care.

  He continued hunting Whitehall like an enraged beast. But Whitehall was nimble , and he continued moving side to side, jumping over a bush. His movements would have lost a Truegold running after him.

  But Kiro was an Underlord. The prince simply swept through the forest, crashing through the trees without slowing down.

  [You might want to go after him now], Dross narrated. [I don't think Whitehall can survive much longer].

  The vision ended, and Lindon jumped to action.

  Lindon's canon had not even reached Kiro's shield when Lindon jumped towards his right, where Naru Saeya was battling one of the Underlords. She flew high, sending waves of cutting air towards the Seishen Underlrod below. Her armour had remained relatively clean and pristine, and the Seishen Underlord was covered in bloody cuts.

  [Wow, she's better than we thought], Dross commented.

  To be fair, Lindon had never seen the princess fight, but he had to admit it. He had underestimated her.

  He unleashed dragon's breath that pierced the back of the Seishen Underlord. Then, Lindon turned his attention to Whitehall. Except, he did not see him.

  [Follow the owl!] Dross yelled in his mind.

  "Right, apologies, Dross," Lindon muttered. Elder Whitehall was more attuned to the forest than Lindon, and Dross had given him credit for. Whitehall had chosen to move between trees which caster large shadows, enough even to hide the Sage's owl.

  [At least she's kind enough to help us through our perception].

  The Sage's owl was like a lighthouse in the dead of night, but Lindon couldn't make out Whitehall's exact position despite knowing where Whitehall was.

  "How is Whitehall moving like that?" Lindon asked as he went after Kiro and the other Underlord. Even the two Seishen's striker technique kept missing and striking shadows. Through Lindon's perception, he felt the Sage's owl move side to side, up and down, in erratic patterns.

  [How would I know?] Dross replied. [Maybe living in the Wastelands has something to do with it].

  Lindon's Soulcloak slammed to the side of the unknown Underlord, crashing him into a large tree. Lindon followed it up with an empty palm.

  Panicked by the sudden loss of control of his spirit, the Underlord looked up.

  Not at Lindon, but at Kiro. At the prince leaving his subordinate behind to die.

  Lindon switched to Blackflame and made it quick.

  As the remnant began to rise, Lindon prepared to kill him a second time. But apparently, Kiro was not as loved as Lindon had thought. Because as the blue remnant fully rose, it shot after Kiro.

  Lindon pulled out his canon and joined after the remnant.

  Kiro had never felt so enraged in his life. He was not angry when his brother treated the royal servants like trash. He had been disappointed. He had not been angry when his father treated him and Daji like broken tools left in the rain. He had been sad. He had not been angry when everyone treated Meira like a parasite for spending time with him. He was.

  ...tired.

  But this—this was different. This was rage. A white-hot, all-consuming fire that clawed up from his gut and drowned out everything else. He remembered when he sensed the spirits of hundreds of Seishen golds. The way they puffed out of existence in an instant.

  And the one responsible — that little worm — was still alive. Still slithering just out of reach. Still ruining everything.

  He felt the deaths of his two Underlords like two sharp stings against his core, but that was fine. He would honour them by remembering their sacrifice. He felt a striker technique coming after him from behind, and he caught it with his shield. Then he felt the Blackflame's canon fire again towards him and readied his shield again.

  His arm strained, and his armour cracked from the scattered impact, but his shield gained more power. Unlike what Daji and Meira had thought, the Sage's gift towards him was not an Overlord's weapon. It was an Archlords'. His father had told him so.

  He fired a striker technique again at the vicinity of the Sage's owl in his perception. Like previously, he only struck bark. That coward had already shifted.

  Tired of this cat-and-mouse chase, Kiro gathered the last of his patience and began to funnel his Soulfire into his next technique. Not a trickle. Half of everything he had left. The technique flared to life, force madra lashing the air around it until it screamed like the wind during a storm. Then he swung his sword. The technique cut through the forest like a blade. A moment later, it detonated in a thunderous explosion that ripped apart the trees in a wide perimeter.

  The blast washed over him. He caught the backlash on his shield, and the impact vibrated through him like a drumbeat in his bones. The shield hummed, storing every fragment of madra it could reach. When the dust began to settle, the forest around him was gone. Where there had once been trees, now there were only stumps, shattered trunks, and craters of upturned earth. The blast had scoured the ground clean.

  And at the heart of that destruction, Kiro saw him.

  The worm.

  He was sprawled across the dirt, crawling, his green armour cracked and shattered. Fragments of the plating had lodged themselves into his flesh like thorns, and black blood oozed out around them, bubbling with poison madra. The air shimmered with it — the stink of it caught in Kiro's throat.

  The worm tried to rise, one trembling hand digging into the soil. His skin had turned a pale, deathly grey, and when he finally got his knees under him, his arms gave out, and he fell back to the ground.

  Kiro watched him for a moment. Then, a slow, satisfied smile crept across his face. Finally, the insect was broken. The hunt was nearly over.

  Mercy knew what she had to do as the roots curled inward from every side, wrapping around her like a cage of thorns. They weaved tighter and tighter, forming a dome above her head. Trapping her. Smothering her.

  Her heart thumped once—loud and slow—and then it felt like everything stopped. The blood drained from her face . Her legs wobbled. She could feel the cold sweat behind her neck , down her spine.

  So many deaths...

  So many lives lost...

  Underlords slaughtering golds ...

  And she hadn't saved a single one.

  When the first Cloudship had exploded, Mercy had reacted on instinct. Her shadows surged out in all directions, wrapping around as many Golds as she could find. She did not care if they were Skysworns or Seishens. They were all her people.

  But the Underlord that had come after her did not care. She locked Mercy's arm behind her back and dragged her to the edge like a piece of luggage. She forced Mercy down onto a thousand-mile cloud. Her body was pinned. Her madra flared, her shadows thrashed, but she couldn't move. But she could not overpower an Underlord.

  The woman had not done it on purpose. But Mercy had watched with tears dripping through her eyes. Golds were stuck on the falling ships, wailing for help. Begging for mercy. Begging for someone to help.

  She would not forget their screams.

  She could still hear it.

  She would always hear it.

  Mercy's gaze had met one of them, a lowgold through her perception. She couldn't remember his face, not his goldsigns, not even which vassals he belonged to. He was young, younger than Pride, she knew for sure. But his gaze was old and haunting as he realised his faith.

  Her eyes never left. Not when he gave her a slight nod through bloodshot black eyes with black veins trailing from his face like spiderwebs. Not when he looked down towards where his faith would be. Not when he knew no one was coming. Not when he decided his chances were better down there. And not as she watched his form leaping off the Cloudship and disappearing below into the forest.

  Now, Mercy stood silently as the Seishen Underlord began caging her with roots. She knew what she needed to do. What her aunt wanted her to do.

  She remained standing as she pulled in the vital aura. She didn't need natural treasures. Out here, in Nightwheel Valley, the vital aura was strong , and it was brimming with Shadow aura. Her words rang true, yet they tasted bitter.

  "I practice the sacred arts to make my mother proud," Mercy muttered softly.

  Her Truegold spirit was as ready to advance as it ever would with the resources of a backwater vassal. It was not as strong as it was before she left, but Mercy was a genius. And she advanced.

  The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  Seishen Meira's eyes widened as she realised what was happening, but she couldn't intervene nor strike at Mercy. The Sage's warning rang in her mind.

  The cacoon burst open as Mercy's shadows pierced through the wooden cage. She held her bow at the ready and pointed it at the Seishen woman. Her eyes were wide, and her spirit was Underlord.

  Mercy would not kill Meira. But she would hurt her. This battle had gone on for too long. It was time to end it.

  Kiro stood over the writhing form on the ground. The little man was still alive, barely. The wounded Truegold had large gashes all over his body, and poison madra leaked out of his wounds like incense and was absorbed straight into the Sage's owl.

  Kiro readied his shield to his left. A bar of Blackflame struck it clean. His shield drank the power in.

  He lifted his shield again to block the incoming kick of the Blackflame Underlord. His shield held the attack, but Kiro was pushed back.

  A wind striker technique sliced at him from above, and another bar of Blackflame came from his front. He took the dragon's breath with his shield and parried the wind technique with his own striker technique.

  His gaze never left the dying form on the ground.

  That bastard was healing, Kiro realised. How dare he? No. Kiro wouldn't let it continue. He was angry, yes—but he would not be cruel. He would make the man's death quick.

  The striker technique from above sliced through Kiro's own striker technique. It was weakened, but it struck him. His armour caught most of the blow, but the striker technique still slipped through the cracks on his armour.

  Only then did Kiro take a full account of himself. His armour was falling apart, his body ached, and his limbs were trembling so badly that he felt like he was about to collapse any moment now.

  And when he looked inwards, he found poison.

  It only had a minor effect on his spirit that he had not noticed. But the poison was eating through his being. His flesh had begun to rot from the inside, and his blood was circulating sluggishly. But that was fine. His spirit was still healthy enough.

  "Step back, Seishen Kiro!" someone yelled at him from behind.

  He turned.

  Meira dangled midair, tightly bound by black, shadowy tendrils. Akura Mercy stood behind her, bow drawn, a black forged arrow aimed at Meira's exposed back.

  Princess Naru Saeya landed before the worm, shielding his form with her own. Next to Kiro, the Blackflame, Wei Shi Lindon, levelled his canon at Kiro.

  Kiro was surrounded on all sides, but weirdly, he felt no fear. His eyes never left Meira's, and in them, he saw that she felt the same.

  "I would listen to her if I were you," a new voice said from the trees.

  Kiro knew that voice, and when he turned to the source, he saw Yerin Aurelius alongside her Bloodshadow and the other Wasteland woman stepping into the clearing.

  His eyes widened when he saw the person Yerin was carrying on her back. Daji's limp body rested against her back; her blade goldsigns resting against his neck. Daji's spirit was ruined. His channels shredded. His core barely clung to shape. He must have activated the Overlord binding. It had torn him apart.

  "We do not have to do this!" the Wastelander woman shouted, her voice cracked.

  "Aunt Charity!" Mercy yelled at the Sage's owl next to the worm. "I've advanced. You can end this now."

  Aunt? That makes more sense now. Why the Sage had ordered t

  Kiro turned his gaze to the owl. He did not want his brother or Meira to die. But if the Sage wills it, then he shall do it.

  The owl's eyes remained locked onto him. It didn't move, didn't make a sound, didn't even blink. It simply watched him. Waiting.

  Kiro clenched his jaw, his teeth grinding, and sighed.

  Then, he activated the binding on his shield.

  "Kiro, no!" he heard someone shout.

  But he didn't care, and he closed his eyes as he prepared for his spirit to collapse. The Sage would choose him to represent her in the tournament; she would fix him.

  His shield glowed in a chaotic spiral of black and purple as it gathered the stored striker techniques.

  When it fired, the shield made no sound.

  In everyone's perception, however, it screamed.

  Everyone was silent as they watched Kiro unleash the binding of his shield. It happened so quickly, far too quickly for any Underlords to intervene. Yet, at the same time, it felt so slow.

  "Dross," Lindon said inwardly. But as soon as he felt the aura build up on the prince's shield, He knew there was nothing he could do.

  Then, a blur of green streaked through the sky.

  Emperor Naru Huan descended like a hammer, his enforcer technqiue a burning green banner in the air . His greatsword shone with emerald light as it plunged through Kiro's cracked armour and drove clean through the prince's heart.

  Kiro shuddered. Blood sprayed from his lips.

  But he was too late. And the shield fired.

  Emperor Naru Huan activated every single defensive binding in his armour, tens of lifesaving constructs appearing out of his void key and soulspace and activated at once.

  But he was facing the bindings of an Archlord weapon. One that belonged to a Sage, no less. But he didn't waver, not when his sister's life was on the line.

  "Huan!" he heard his sister yell, her voice full of anguish and cracking like glass.

  He didn't even have a chance to reply before a concoction of lethal auras detonated between him and the prince. And Naru Huan, Emperor of the Blackflame Empire, died.

  It was only after Emperor Naru Huan died that Charity finally accepted that the battle had run its course.

  She appeared in the aftermath of the explosion. Naru Huan's constructs had kept the attack isolated. He could have survived, but he had chosen to save his sister's life instead of his own.

  But he had killed an Underlord.

  And Charity knew that she would need to intervene before the Seishen King decided to do the same.

  Charity appeared in the middle of her forest, and everyone around her was silent. She noticed that the Blackflame Empire Underlords had not gone through with their threats. Empty threats would not get them far.

  "My son!" King Dakata yelled as he appeared through the trees, his spirit unveiled. "What have you done to my son!" he yelled again, rage boiling in his eyes. He lifted his sword at the ready.

  "Your son died fighting honourably against Underlords and an Overlord," Charity answered. Two remnants rose from the ground, the explosion left no bodies behind.

  "Enter," Charity ordered, summoning two urns she had made by hand. The remnants' wills were weak compared to hers, and they made their way into the urns.

  She turned her attention back to King Dakata. "Emperor Naru Huan had slain your son. But in return, he had slain the Overlord."

  King Dakata's gaze never left Kiro's remnant, making its way into the urn beside the Sage.

  "I demand retaliation!" Dakata roared, cycling his spirit. "By the Sage's words, she had witnessed an Overlord slaying an Underlord!"

  Charity kept her voice cool , but she suppressed his spirit with her own. "Your grief is understandable, Your Highness, but your disrespect is unwise. You still have your son and servant. With your help, your son would have a chance to recover."

  Charity turned her gaze towards Mercy. Mercy looked away.

  "You may release them," Charity ordered.

  "Kiro! Kiro!" Meira began yelling as soon as Mercy undo her bindings.

  Charity snapped her fingers, and new tendrils of shadow wrapped the woman, slipping her into sleep. Then she caught Daji's limp body as it fell and bound him in silence. The remaining prince was unconscious and would stay that way.

  King Dakata's gaze shifted from the urn to her and then to the Underlords. While his gaze was stern, he didn't move or say anything.

  Charity's voice reverberated through the entire valley as she spoke next. "This battle has concluded, and entry to the Night Wheel Valley will soon be closed to you. I have chosen three young Underlords from the Blackflame Empire to represent the western vassals of the Akura family," she announced. "Warriors who are lost, my owls shall guide you to the rendezvous with your kin."

  Without raising her voice again, she spoke directly to the King. "Take your son. Your servant. Return to your Kingdom." She summoned another owl next to the king. "It will guide you to the rest of your army so your Kingdom may leave my valley."

  King Dakata clenched his jaw, but he remained silent. He placed Kiro's urn inside his soulspace and lifted Daji's unconscious form in his arms. With a manipulation of wind aura, he lifted Meira behind him. Then, he left without a word.

  Charity turned her attention to the Blackflame Empire's contingent. Wei Shi Lindon, Yerin Aurelius, Akura Mercy, and the Wasteland apprentice were huddled around the wounded poison artist. Through her perception, Charity felt Mercy wrapping the man's wounds with shadow. They were all Underlords now, and their body, having been remade with Soulfire, gave them a degree of resistance to the Poison miasma.

  "Naru Saeya," Charity spoke to the only Underlord who had not moved this whole time.

  The princess didn't respond. Her eyes were empty, locked on the patch of ground where her brother had stood.

  " Naru Saeya ," Charity repeated, lacing her name with a sliver of will.

  Saeya flinched. Then, slowly, her head turned toward the Sage. Her eyes were wide, black with grief.

  Charity began, "I award your Empire three hundred million high-grade scales. In addition, to ease reparations caused by this competition, I will gift the Empress with an Archlord defensive construct and sponsor your advancement to Overlord."

  Naru Saeya's voice was soft and barely a whisper when she replied. "What?"

  Charity nodded. "Naru Gwei shall be interim Emperor until after the tournament, then the throne is yours."

  Saeya spoke in short words. "Why?"

  "I have chosen you as one of my representatives," Charity replied calmly.

  Naru Saeya knew she should bow, but her knees would not move. So she lowered her head instead.

  "Aunt Charity!" Mercy's voice snapped through the air. "Can you save him?"

  Charity did not need to look to where Mercy was pointing to know who she meant.

  "Yes, " she replied.

  Mercy's expression turned to sadness. "But you wouldn't, " she muttered.

  Charity nodded. "I have fulfilled my end of the agreement in giving the Wastelanders the opportunity and natural treasures to advance to Underlord, " she nodded towards Lindon's void key. "Nothing more, nothing less."

  "He can't advance in this state! " Mercy yelled. "Are you going to leave him to die?"

  Charity did not reply.

  Sadi's thoughts whirled as she knelt next to Whitehall. Mercy was bargaining with the Sage, but Sadi already knew it was useless. The Sage had been after them from the start, and she would not lend them any help now.

  Whitehall's injuries were worse than she had realised. He'd fallen on his stomach, and when they turned him over, they saw the truth—organs that belonged inside him were now outside.

  Mercy had done what she could with Whitehall's wounds, and Whitehall's madra had already begun healing him. The problem was he was running out of it, and the bleeding inside had not stopped.

  "Shut up, " Sadi hissed when he tried to speak.

  His skin was pale, much paler than he usually would be.

  There must be something inside her void key that could help. Lindon had used several medicinal pills on Whitehall, but even then, it was not enough.

  Then suddenly, a frog croaked from Sadi's shoulder. Sadi almost jumped but managed to hold herself back at the last moment.

  "You are not welcome here, " Charity said. Her voice, cold and unhurried, sliced through the air like a greatsword through silk.

  The frog croaked again, "Your grandmother said otherwise. " Then, the frog unveiled its spirit, washing the area with the power of an Archlord.

  The frog was an Archlord, so it was not enough to be a real threat to the Sage, but enough to make it difficult if she tried to attack.

  Charity remained silent for a while, and the tension in the air grew suffocating.

  "Then begone with your apprentices, " Charity finally replied.

  The frog shot its tongue out, catching a fly that had been bothering him. "You played a dangerous game, Silver Heart, " the frog said between chews. "But I suppose your kind always do."

  The frog shifted his gaze to Sadi. "Summon your thousand-mile cloud. We'll gather your things and return to the Wasteland."

  "What about Whitehall? " Sadi asked.

  The frog took a quick glance at Whitehall. "Undo your bindings, would you? " he asked Mercy.

  Mercy hesitated, then nodded and released her technique.

  The moment Mercy undid her technique, Whitehall's organs began spilling out of the large gash in his stomach. Just as quickly, the frog's mouth grew in size, scooped up the organs, and began biting them out. Sadi was about to pull her knives on the Archlord when she noticed that wherever he had bitten off, the wound had immediately shut. Neatly. Seamlessly.

  The worst, however, was Whitehall. He did not scream. He did not flinch. And Sadi knew by now that when he was quiet, he was truly in pain.

  She gripped his hand tightly. Slowly, she felt strength returning to his fingers.

  Once the frog was done, he turned his gaze to Lindon. "Got any bandages in that key of yours? " he asked, still chewing.

  "Yes, honoured Archlord, " Lindon said at once, bowing slightly. He began pulling out rolls of cloth and dressing Whitehall's wounds.

  Sadi mouthed a silent thank you.

  "Honoured Archlord? " Lindon asked as he worked.

  The frog made a questioning hum. "Hmm?"

  "Will he survive? Like this? " Lindon hesitated. "Some of his organs are missing."

  The frog laughed—a low, wet sound. "For now."

  It licked its lips, and the laughter died slowly in its throat.

  Whitehall woke up slowly and found himself in a familiar room inside a cave. His path had reinforced the effectiveness of his sensory organs, and he recognised the comforting smell immediately. It was not the smell of the sacred beasts living in the cave that comforted him, nor was it the familiar scent of the stone.

  And now that he thought about it, it might have been a little disgusting.

  Sadi's sweat.

  He blinked.

  Yeah. Better keep that one to himself.

  "How do you feel? " Sadi's familiar voice asked him as she helped him sit up straight.

  "Woozy, " Whitehall replied, doing his best to form a smirk.

  Sadi giggled as the mood lifted slightly. "I guess losing some weight might do that to you."

  Whitehall raised an eyebrow as he watched her laugh. "Oh, that was good, " he mused and joined her laugh.

  Sadi's face grew serious after they both finished laughing.

  She spoke softly. "I was worried about you, " her golden eyes meeting his black.

  Whitehall nodded and spoke just as softly. "Yeah, I know. Thank you, " he lowered his head.

  She wrapped her arms around him. "You need to stop putting yourself in these kind of situations, damn it! " she cried.

  Whitehall clenched the fabric of Sadi's shirt as he wrapped his arms around her. "I'm sorry, " he muttered.

  "But you won't stop, will you? " she retorted.

  "I can't, " Whitehall answered.

  "Why? " she demanded. "Why do you keep putting yourself in these kind of situations?"

  "Because, " he began but stopped.

  She waited patiently for him to continue. They sat there in a silent embrace for a long moment before Whitehall finally answered.

  "Because, " he continued. "Because I practice the Sacred Arts, so no one has to."

  That answer surprised Sadi, and she pulled back slightly to watch his face.

  His gaze never left hers, as he explained. "In my previous life, I went to war so that the next generation did not have to. And in this life... I realised that had not changed at all."

  His gaze grew stronger as he continued , and he stared intensely at her. "I practice the sacred arts so that the people I care about can find peace."

  The soulfire around the room began to hum.

  Sadi shook him slightly. "Stop that. Master said it can take weeks if we advance without natural treasures."

  "Oh, " Whitehall muttered and stopped his advancement from triggering.

  Then suddenly, slowly, Sadi planted her lips softly onto his cheek. "But that was sweet, " she smiled.

  Whitehall knew for sure that his cheeks were blushing. When he tried to look at Sadi's cheeks, he found her skin glowing slightly. Then, somehow, his gaze landed on her lips.

  They were so close.

  So painfully close.

  Then, the Beast King's voice boomed beyond the door of their room. "Is my favourite poison, male, apprentice awake? " he asked as the stone door opened.

  Whitehall and Sadi quickly parted and averted their gaze from each other.

  "Ahh, " the Beast King mused. "Ruined a moment, didn't I?"

  Whitehall wished the ground would open up and swallow him whole.

  The Beast King clapped his hands together. "Well, then, I'm glad that Sadi has gotten over it because you'll need to advance quickly."

  Whitehall had to do a double-take at what his master had just said. "Gotten over ...it? " he asked.

  Sadi narrowed her eyes at the Beast King, and the Beast King's grin faltered.

  "...ehhh, " the Beast King began. He took a few paces back from the entrance of their room. "You know what? I felt you two already found your revelation, and since you have your void keys with you, feel free to advance on your own, " he spoke quickly . Then, just as quickly, he shut the door with a wind aura.

  That left Whitehall and Sadi sitting awkwardly next to each other.

  Silence.

  Whitehall cleared his throat. "...So?"

  "Lindon's joining the Akura main team, " Sadi blurted, eyes on anything but him.

  Whitehall opened his mouth, but she rushed on.

  "The Sage didn't let him leave through the portal to the Blackflame Empire and took him on the spot. Yerin wasn't too happy with it and complained the whole way back to the Empire. Eithan is alive too, in case you're wondering."

  Whitehall smiled teasingly, sensing her nervousness. "And.."

  "Bert."

  He raised an eyebrow, amused at seeing her flustered. "Bert? " he asked, trying his best to contain his laughter.

  "The Archlord that saved you and came to fetch us, " Sadi replied, still avoiding his eyes.

  "And... what about this thing master said you had to get over? " he teased.

  "Oh, my days, " Sadi groaned and flopped onto her mattress beside him. "Everyone has been teasing me about it ever since we returned here. And it's driving me mad! Worst of all, I'm not even bothered about it at all. But do you know how much it can drive a person insane being teased by the same thing again and again? " she said exasperatedly.

  Whitehall waited for a moment. Seeing that she was not about to continue, he asked slowly. "...And what have they been teasing you about?"

  Sadi covered her eyes with her forearm tiredly as she answered. "You've been muttering this name throughout our journey while unconscious, and Bert hasn't stopped spreading it around through the whole cave."

  Then, she removed the arm covering her eyes and gazed accusingly at him. "I swear, why do you do this to me?"

  Whitehall blinked and tilted his head slightly. "And what name did I mutter?"

  Sadi exhaled an annoyed breath and answered.

  "Tseria."

  House of Blades

  Iteration requested.  Amalgam.

  Date.  Denied

  Report Complete.

  Dayang's voice echoed through the forest, raw and desperate, as she called out to Sangkuriang. But her pleas went unanswered, lost in the night or ignored. She could see him now , perched on the temple's roof, his figure a dark silhouette against the moonlit sky. He was carving something into the stone, his movements swift and precise. As she drew closer, she realised it was her face—her youthful, unblemished visage, smooth and ageless, framed by intricate patterns of lilacs and tulips. The sight took her breath away, even as her heart ached with fear.

  She reached the clearing surrounding the temple, her chest heaving as she stared up at the shadowy figure of her son. For a fleeting moment, she wondered how he could carve such delicate details with a greatsword. But before she could dwell on it, the night sky was suddenly bathed in a brilliant golden light. It was blinding, overwhelming, and just as quickly as it appeared, a wave of blue light crashed into it, the two forces colliding in a silent, dazzling explosion. Then, as suddenly as it had come, the light vanished, leaving the night sky dark and still once more. It wasn't dawn—the light had been too golden, too otherworldly.

  Dayang froze, her legs rooted to the ground. The image of her son under that golden light was seared into her mind. Chains had enveloped him from head to toe, their cold, unyielding grip binding him completely . His eyes had been blacker than the night, empty and endless. She was too late.

  In the distance, the roosters began to crow, their cries piercing the stillness of the night.

  " Dayang, " Sangkuriang's voice broke through the silence , rough and filled with pain . It was a voice she barely recognised, gravelly and heavy with sorrow.

  She looked up, the moonlight illuminating his face. The chains that had once been creeping up his arm now covered him entirely, their metallic glint stark against his pale skin.

  "I was so close, " he muttered, his voice trembling. "It's impossible."

  Dayang couldn't find the words to reply. She could only stare, her heart breaking as she took in the sight of what her son had become.

  The ground beneath them began to tremble, the vibrations growing stronger until Dayang was forced to her knees. The temple, her son's magnum opus, started to crumble, its intricate carvings splintering as the earth beneath it opened up into a yawning chasm. She looked up in horror as Sangkuriang clung to the stone petals on the roof, his sword rattling as he struggled to hold on. But the stone gave way, and he fell.

  Without thinking, Dayang lunged forward, her arms outstretched. She slid across the broken ground, her torso scraping against the rough surface as she reached for him. Using her powers, she anchored herself to the earth, her arms straining as she caught him. He was heavy—far heavier than he should have been, as if the chains that bound him were dragging him down.

  "Let go, my love, " he said, his voice soft and resigned. "The chains are heavy."

  But Dayang shook her head vehemently, her grip tightening. Tears streamed down her face, mingling with the blood from her cuts, leaving red streaks on her cheeks. Her son stared at her in awe, his blackened eyes filled with a strange, sorrowful wonder.

  "You're so beautiful, " Valiar whispered, his voice barely audible.

  And then the weight of his body pulled them both into the darkness below , their hands clasped tightly together as they fell.

  Cornelia finally reached the clearing where the temple had once stood. If she could sweat, she would have been drenched by now. Her small, porcelain legs could only carry her so fast, and the journey through the dark forest had been arduous. The sight before her was one of devastation: the temple was gone, swallowed by the earth, leaving only a gaping hole in the ground. She sighed, a sound heavy with resignation, as she realised what had happened.

  She shuffled closer to the edge of the hole, her glassy eyes peering into the abyss below. "How unlucky," she muttered to herself. An earthquake at such a time—it was almost poetic in its cruelty. Nature always has its way, she thought, recalling the words the Master of Valinhall had often said. It was a phrase that carried both wisdom and a quiet acceptance of the inevitable.

  Leaning over the edge, Cornelia stared into the darkness. 'Yep, ' she thought. 'Long gone. ' She sighed again, a sound that seemed to echo in the stillness of the night. She had been sighing far too often lately, but this time, it felt justified. Valiar was lost, and with him, the potential of what he could have become. The weight of that loss settled heavily on her, even if she couldn't fully express it.

  Turning away from the hole, Cornelia prepared to make her way back through the dark forest. She would need to find somewhere to wait until someone from Valinhall came to retrieve her. The thought was tedious, but it was all she could do now.

  But as she took her first step, her foot caught on a loose pebble. She wobbled, her small arms flailing uselessly, and then she tipped backwards. For a moment, time seemed to slow as she teetered on the edge. And then, with a faint clink of porcelain, she tumbled into the hole, disappearing into the darkness below.

  Brilliant.