Whitehall sat still under the tight wooden confines of a storage room in the Skysworn Cloudship. They had found the Cloudship Yerin, Lindon, and Mercy came to the island with. It was not as grandiose as the Beast King's Cloudfortress, but at least it provided ample protection from the wind. Meatball perched on his shoulder, snapping her head towards the walls occasionally. Their master had sent them away on a mission with the Blackflame delegation for an undefined time. He had decided to keep his distance away from Yerin. Lindon was like a child between two divorced parents. On the one hand, he greatly respected Whitehall, but on the other hand, the Sword Sage's disciple was still clearly displeased with Whitehall's presence. At least Yerin's relationship with Sadi was amicable. The two were looking forward to a spar based on their conversations Whitehall had overheard.

  Sadi had joined him inside the storage room for the past few days to cycle and develop her path based on what she had learned in Ghostwater. Tiny gold sparkles crashed against one another before her.

  Whitehall's curiosity flared, and he couldn't hold back his question any longer. "What are you trying to do?" he asked, his voice low.

  Sadi opened her eyes slowly, a deep sigh escaping her lips as she leaned back against the wooden wall. Whitehall noticed the shimmer of golden light in her eyes as she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm so close," she said, her tone tinged with both frustration and determination. "The Archlord from the Dream Tablet uses a technique to create matter from thin air."

  Before Whitehall could respond, a sudden rush of air and a brief, loud crack startled him. Meatball, the little Garuda perched on his shoulder, shot through the wall of the Cloudship as a dark blur, soaring into the open sky. Fortunately, the hole she left behind was small, and the ship's structural integrity held, sparing them from being thrown overboard.

  From above, they heard Yerin yell. "What was that?"

  Whitehall's senses flickered, detecting a faint trace of poison madra outside. A moment later, Meatball's voice, muffled by distance, replied. "Some owl remnant! Don't worry, I've killed it."

  "Bleed me, are you trying to kill us, too? This Cloudship was ready to crumble two days ago!" Yerin shouted in exasperation.

  Whitehall dismissed the exchange, his attention already back on Sadi, who had continued her work. "Matter from light?" Whitehall asked, confusion marking his tone. "How is that supposed to work?"

  Sadi shook her head, eyes closed, the golden light still flickering around her hands. "I don't have the full answers," she admitted, her voice quiet as the wind from the hole in the wall howled through the room. "But from what I've seen in the Dream Tablet and learned from the Oracle Tree, it has something to do with colliding light against itself."

  Whitehall furrowed his brow. "Is that what you were doing?" he asked, sensing that she was beginning to piece things together.

  "Yes," she replied with a nod, a flicker of frustration in her voice. "But most of the information from the Oracle Tree is focused on the techniques of Sacred Artists who walk the Light Path. There's barely anything on the research done by scholars." She held her hands apart, and two beams of light shot out from the space between her palms. They collided with a soft hiss, and a thin trail of smoke began to rise from the point of impact. "One of the scholars figured out how to create smoke like this," she explained, her voice barely audible over the wind.

  Whitehall watched the small, weak plume of smoke with a mixture of awe and disappointment. His mind raced, but he couldn't quite catch up with the implications of what he saw.

  Sadi continued, her voice growing more animated as she spoke of the scholar's findings. "The theory is that if you can collide light under specific circumstances, it should be possible to create other types of matter." She paused, a note of disappointment in her words. "But the scholar couldn't get it to work. He speculated that it had to do with his Truegold advancement."

  Whitehall was silent for a moment, his gaze still fixed on the smoke swirling upward in the air. His mind whirred with possibilities, trying to make sense of what Sadi had said.

  "Everything alright, Whitehall?" Sadi asked, breaking him from his thoughts. She tilted her head, a hint of concern in her golden eyes.

  "I might have a clue what you're doing," Whitehall replied slowly after a moment of reflection. "I didn't remember it clearly before, but now I'm recalling something similar from Earth."

  Sadi's eyes sharpened with interest. "What do you mean?"

  Whitehall scratched his head, searching his memory for the details. "There's this theory, by two scholars, that you can create matter by colliding light particles at the speed of light."

  Sadi raised an eyebrow, her scepticism evident. "I've tried that. It didn't work. Anything else you can recall that might be more specific?"

  Whitehall hesitated, trying to recall the fragments of information he'd overheard during his time with the colonists. "I'm not the best person to answer your question," he said, his voice thoughtful, "but I think you might need a more... fundamental form of light."

  "A more fundamental form?" Sadi echoed, clearly confused. "What do you mean?"

  "Light isn't just one thing," Whitehall explained, the words coming to him with effort. "It's made of different types of particles. I overheard some of the educated folk talking about it. If I'm right, you'd need to collide specific particles at specific speeds to create matter. That's all I remembered."

  Sadi's eyes widened, a spark of realisation flashing in them. "I never thought about light as being made of multiple types of particles," she whispered, more to herself than to him. "You might be right." She closed her eyes again, her hands raised with renewed focus. The golden beams of light began to take shape in front of her. They were different this time—thin, smaller than a needle, cutting through the air with precision. The lasers collided once again, but nothing happened. No explosion, no creation of new matter. They simply passed through each other, dissipating harmlessly.

  "No," Sadi muttered under her breath, her voice tinged with frustration as she mentally checked something off her list of failed attempts. She shook her head and tried again, pushing the light beams into a new configuration, but the result was the same—nothing.

  Sensing her growing frustration, Whitehall decided to give her some space to work. He closed his eyes and focused on his own training, the thoughts of Sadi's experiments fading into the background for the moment.

  As he settled into his cycling, Whitehall's mind wandered back to the Sacred Artist he had seen in the Dream Tablet, the one who used multiple poisons in his enforcer techniques. Whitehall could see how the Sacred Beasts injected different toxins into their bodies, adjusting the effects of their techniques depending on the poison they used. If he could replicate something similar, he realised, it would give him the kind of versatility he had been striving for in his own techniques. But there was still one problem: he didn't know exactly what poison the Archlord had used.

  He turned his focus inward, feeling the shifting currents of madra in his core. His veins were filled with venomous toxins from the Sacred Beasts of the Wastelands, a dangerous and diverse collection of poisons that would be the key to unlocking his technique. But which one to use? He was not sure yet. He was not given a list and description of the venom madra he had taken into his core.

  "Trial and error, I guess," Whitehall muttered, shaking his head. With a deep exhale, he prepared to inject himself with the venom of a particularly deadly King Cobra.

  Sadi's eyes opened, and her technique failed when Dross's voice suddenly echoed in her mind.

  [Attention all crew, this is the captain speaking. We have good news and bad news. The good news is that we are landing immediately. The bad news is that we're crash landing.]

  Sadi cringed for a moment at Dross's voice. She never got really used to having Dross speaking in her mind like that. She was about to wake Whitehall from his cycling when the Cloudship suddenly buckled in the sky, raging downwards. It felt as if something had reached inside her and lifted her insides. She leaned against the walls, her arms stretching to reach for the walls.

  "Whitehall," she called out, looking up as Whitehall's body was thrown upwards. "Meatball!" she immediately yelled as she saw Whitehall's condition.

  Whitehall's form was stuck in a cycling position as he floated due to the weightlessness. His eyes were closed, and his limbs were rigid. What confused her the most was the purple hue that covered his entire skin. Dark veins ran through his body like chains.

  "Not that poison, you idiot," Meatball barked as the bird flew in from the same hole she created.

  "What's wrong with him?" Sadi asked, struggling as she held on to keep her feet on the ground.

  "Bimbo tried experimenting with different chemicals on his body," Meatball replied, shooting three dark feathers that sank into Whitehall's arms. "And he didn't even consult me! A poison Sacred Beast."

  A few moments after the poison feathers had disappeared into Whitehall's body, his eyes opened, and his arms began flailing. It took a few moments for him to regain his balance. "Oh," he muttered. "Thanks."

  "You good?" Sadi asked.

  "Yeah, I think so," Whitehall replied, one hand digging into the wooden wall and holding himself. He looked down at his other hand, clenching and unclenching it. His skin was a mix of purple and green, like a fresh bruise. He returned his gaze to his other hand, which had punched through the wooden wall like butter. "Whoa," he remarked.

  "He'll be fine," Meatball called out, flying to Sadi and clenching the woman's shirt on the shoulder with her talons. "We're about to crash, so you might want to let go," the bird said to Sadi.

  "Huh?" Sadi asked, confused.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  "Whitehall will be fine," Meatball rolled her eyes.

  Sadi let go of her limbs and found herself floating mid-air. The next thing she knew, she was outside, watching the Cloudship descending into the grass near a small town. The Cloudship did not crash landed, but it still landed hard. The Cloudship dug a line of mud as it skidded to a halt, sending off grass in its surroundings. Surprisingly, the ship remained intact.

  Meatball flew her down over a small crowd that had gathered. Yerin, Mercy, Lindon, and Orthos came out first, and Yerin had a smug look on her face. Sadi and Meatball made their way to the storage room, where, after breaking down the wooden wall with a light thud, revealed Whitehall curled up into a ball.

  Their eyes met, and Whitehall narrowed his eyes. "Not a word," he said, uncurling from his pitiful state.

  Sadi tried to hold it; she indeed did. But Meatball was having none of it and burst out in laughter. "Look at you," the bird laughed. "You look like a puppy scared by the thunder."

  Sadi broke and started laughing, too, raising her hands in apologies. She stretched a hand to help Whitehall stand.

  His purple-green hand accepted her golden-nailed hand, and he pulled himself up. "I will remember this, you two," he whispered.

  Meatball's laughter grew louder. "Hey everyone!" the bird yelled, flying towards the others, her voice disappearing in the distance. "Look what we found."

  Whitehall chased after Meatball, but as he stepped out of the wreckage, the sky began to darken.

  [Look, everyone! Here are some friends! That's a relief, isn't it?]

  Sadi and Whitehall caught up to the others. Little Blue and Meatball were having a chat next to Orthos. Sadi saw Yerin and Lindon looking up at the sky, and from their reaction, she reckoned the Cloudships above were not 'friends.'

  "Those aren't friends, are they?" Sadi asked.

  [Of course they are], Dross replied first. [They were also quick to show. They must have followed us for days, worried sick].

  "No," Lindon and Yerin said at the same time.

  [What are you talking about? They even have the same green armour Lindon had?] Dross added.

  Sadi ignored Dross's last sentence and immediately unleashed Lightcloack on the whole group. Yes, she decided to call it that. Turns out she was horrible with names.

  "Am I unable to see things, or did you guys just leave me?" Yerin was the first one to react to Sadi's technique.

  "I've made us near invisible, at least harder to spot from high up there," Sadi answered. "We should be able to hide our presence if we veil ourselves. We should use the chance to run."

  "This is pretty cool," Mercy remarked, looking down at her invisible hands. "But how are we supposed to keep track of each other with a veil without seeing each other?"

  [Guys, please], Dross said with a soothing tone. [Relax. They are friends, and from the same organisation you are. Look, they're even beginning to protect us from all sides].

  "A dragon does not hide!" Orthos grumbled. "A dragon burns those who dare challenge them!"

  [See, Orthos almost got it].

  "We're heading for the town, right?" Sadi asked, shifting to the front of the group.

  "Yes," Lindon replied, his voice sounding strained. "I've got Orthos."

  "Put me down!" Orthos grumbled. "This is unbecoming of a dragon!"

  "We're ready to go," Lindon continued.

  "Everyone hold hands," Sadi ordered. There were a few slaps, owes, and complaints, but eventually, everyone managed to hold onto one another.

  Sadi led the way, with Whitehall behind him. She did not need to look to recognise the feel of his hand. His hold was always firm yet gentle. Several green Thousand-Mile Clouds descended from the Cloudships. Thankfully, the Skysworn did not seem to have detected their escape and headed from the wrecked Cloudship instead.

  They carefully made their way through the crowd, and Sadi noticed colourful ribbons tied around tree trunks, creating a path. The crowd was also wearing fine silk clothing. She was not sure if the people here were rich or if they were celebrating something.

  The crowd watched as armoured Skysworn began scouring the area around the whole city, grabbing anyone resembling Lindon, Yerin, or Mercy.

  [Lindon told me to tell you to go up the hill], Dross spoke in Sadi's mind. [Not that I agree that we should be running from our saviours].

  Sadi led the way up the hill, and the climb was challenging because she had to turn her body sideward to keep hold of Whitehall. Once they began to reach the peak, Sadi saw a small stone house at the centre with a sign detailing a dark crescent moon in white.

  Lindon audibly yelled out in excitement. "There! An Aurelius branch."

  Sadi sighed; thankfully, the Skysworns nearby had not heard them. As they approached the house, Sadi could not help but grow more disappointed. From the way Lindon previously spoke about the Aurelius family, which had adopted him and Yerin, it sounded like a big, powerful family. But the structure before her eyes looked more like an extra large storage room. At least the stones were clean, Sadi thought.

  "Uncloak me and Yerin," Lindon said as they got close to the house.

  Sadi did not argue and did as she was told. They were Aurelius, so it was probably for the best.

  "This is Wei Shi Lindon Aurelius and Yerin Aurelius, adopted disciples of the Aurelius family by the Patriarch of the Blackflame Empire, Eithan Aurelius!" Lindon yelled, knocking hard on the door with his knuckle.

  Sadi heard shuffling footsteps and hesitant whispers beyond the door.

  [Nice yelling. Loud, scary voice indeed] Dross commented. [The Underlord heard our calls for help and is on the way here. Wow, he is moving at top speed.]

  "Eithan?" Lindon asked.

  [No], Dross replied. [Unless he changed his hair to black and got new green wings goldsigns].

  "Gwei," Yerin said through gritted teeth. Her goldsigns arched towards the door, sending out sword aura that decimated the wooden door.

  A man and woman in blue Aurelius robes held a broom and a hairpin as weapons. A brush of her perception told Sadi that they were lowgolds.

  [They are definitely Aurelius], Dross commented. [Just look how clean this place is. Except for the dust and wood chips everywhere, of course].

  "Contact Eithan Aurelius," Lindon ordered the two bewildered Aurelius servants.

  Orthos unveiled his Spirit, sending a wave of Blackflame madra through their perception. "Now," the turtle growled, stepping into the stone house.

  "Blackflame," the male servant muttered.

  If the servants did not recognise Yerin or Lindon, they definitely recognised Orthos. They hurried to another room in the back of the house.

  "Umm, guys," Meatball muttered, looking behind. "I'm pretty sure that's the Underlord."

  All gazes turned to follow Meatball's. Up in the sky, standing on a green Thousand-Mile Cloud, wearing green Skysworn armour with gauntleted arms crossed, was a large man. His Spirit was unveiled, revealing his Underlord advancement.

  "Faces against the ground," Naru Gwei ordered; he did not shout, but his voice bellowed. "Spirits veiled, and hands behind your back." His gaze was firm on Yerin, Lindon, and Orthos.

  The Underlord had not seen through her, Whitehall, and Meatball's veil, Sadi realised, judging by the man's gaze. She pulled Whitehall and Meatball into the house.

  "We're in," she whispered to Lindon as they entered.

  The two Aurelius servants, returning from the back room, jolted in surprise by Sadi's voice, but they did not attack.

  Lindon and Yerin were conversing with the Underlord, and Sadi felt more Truegold spirits surrounding the Aurelius structure. "Is there an exit at the back?" she asked the servants.

  "No," the male servant replied, his eyes staring at Sadi's general direction. His Lowgold Spirit was unable to pierce Sadi's invisibility or her veil. The servant's voice was shaky when he spoke, "We sent a message to the main branch of the Blackflame Empire. We should have received an acknowledgement by now." His Spirit stirred, and his eyes widened in panic. "Oh, great heavens!" He lowered himself to a kowtow, bowing towards Lindon and Yerin's back. "Please, spare us!"

  No, he was bowing to the Underlord.

  Whitehall's eyes darted to the field before him, counting the number of Truegolds. He could take them on, he told himself. Even that was sprinkled with self-doubt. He has killed a Truegold before.

  [With Lindon's help], Dross's voice echoed in his mind. [And now he is a Truegold. And he has me!]

  Whitehall ignored the purple spirit and began cycling his madra. There were three Truegolds and a dozen Highgolds. He could take them—he could kill them—but he didn't want to.

  [Aww, that's cute.]

  "Lindon, can your spirit read my mind?" Whitehall asked.

  [No], Dross popped out of Lindon. [But your face says it all].

  Whitehall ignored the idiot spirit inside Lindon's head, instead trying to figure out a peaceful solution to get them out of this mess. Maybe if he came out as a delegation from the Wastelands, the Skysworns would back down.

  "Stay inside," he heard Sadi speak to the servants.

  Whitehall was about to inform Sadi of his plan to reveal themselves, but Lindon and Yerin's spirits flared to life.

  [A bit too late for peaceful measures], Dross's voice echoed.

  Lindon, his body covered by his Burning Cloak, shouted and punched through a wall made of green madra. The forger technique shattered under his blow, dissipating in an instant. The Truegold behind the technique blasted away, rolling and kicking up dust.

  "Tell me true," Yerin's head snapped to him, her sword unsheathed, and her madra cycled in preparation for a technique. "What did they feed you in there?"

  "Sea monsters," Lindon answered, his eyes black and red.

  "Stay behind us," Yerin said, looking over her shoulder. She could not exactly see Whitehall but looked in their general direction.

  Whitehall clenched his fists and was about to protest, but Dross's voice stopped him.

  [We're trying not to kill them. We don't want to antagonise our saviours too much].

  Whitehall stepped back bitterly. Dross was not exactly correct, but he was not wrong either. Whitehall's techniques were all meant to disable and kill eventually. He had not tested enough of his poisons to know which one he could use to safely disable someone. His enforcer technique, however, he could use. It would not do him much good, but it was usable.

  Dross must have sensed his frustration and informed Lindon as Lindon spoke next. "This is not your battle, Elder Whitehall. Please, leave this to us."

  "Go," Sadi said to Lindon. "We'll protect the servants."

  Lindon gave her a nod before exiting the house alongside Yerin and Orthos.

  "We would prefer to talk, but if it is a fight, you want." Lindon's large, blazing form stood straight as black eyes met the Underlord's. "Then a fight you shall have."

  The Underlord's voice bellowed through the distance. "Take them."

  Whitehall watched techniques exchanged outside. A Truegold fired a lance of force straight to Lindon's chest. And Whitehall's eyes widened as he saw Lindon barely flinched. Lindon's body twisted in a blur, dodging spears of golden light raining down on him. The Beast King would disapprove of such a light technique.

  Yerin jumped and slashed her blade mid-air, sending a wave of sword aura towards a Truegold standing on a Thousand-Mile Cloud. The sword aura cut the cloud in half as the Truegold jumped, avoiding the attack. The Truegold stretched a hand, blasting acidic madra towards Yerin.

  One moment, Yerin was floating in mid-air, and the next, her form disappeared, the acidic madra missing her and raining towards the ground below. The grass hissed into smoke as the acid rained on them. The next thing Whitehall saw, Yerin appeared behind the Truegold, gripping the Truegold's Skysworn armor. They both slammed onto the ground; the Truegold landing face first with Yerin standing on his back. Yerin turned towards two Skysworns coming towards her. She snarled and disappeared again.

  Whitehall snapped his head towards Sadi and saw that her Lightcloak technique was gone. Her arms were stretched out as she watched the battlefield, her nails and eyes shining gold. He realised that she was supporting Yerin.

  Well, then, he would find a way to help Lindon. Not that it seemed he needed it. Lindon, Yerin, and Orthos were creating a pile of the Truegolds they had beaten. At the corner of his eyes, he saw Mercy sighing as she held her bow.

  Mercy shrugged at him. "They don't need our help." She turned to the terrified servants at the back. "Hi, I'm Mercy!"

  "Akura!" the servants yelled in recognition, and they bowed, pressing their foreheads to the ground. "Please forgive and spare us!"

  Mercy's smile faltered.

  Whitehall turned his attention back to the battle. Lindon and Yerin did not have any trouble handling the Truegolds; the Highgolds, however, presented a different set of issues. He remembered what Ziel had said previously, that more advanced Sacred Artists tend to avoid engaging those with lower advancement. Judging by how the Underlord had not moved, Whitehall reckoned the unspoken rule was still in service.

  Whitehall hastily gathered a mild toxic madra from a water snail in his palm, creating a wall of gas that prevented the Highgolds from reaching Lindon. The gas was supposed to be colourless, but his came out black and purple. The gas was not toxic and would be useless except for anaesthetic purposes. The Highgolds, however, did not know that and hesitated to step forward. The Skysworns' eyes turned to Whitehall, their fists curled.

  One of them, carrying twin swords, snarled and braved through the dark miasma, charging straight at the Aurelius building. The rest quickly followed after when they saw that the gas had not immediately killed the first Skysworn. They were close to the building before black tendrils shot out towards them, binding them tightly like a mummy, exposing only their noses.

  Whitehall snapped his head and saw Mercy standing beside him by the doorway. Her bow was nocked, and her spirit flared Truegold. A brief spark of annoyance ran through him. Is everyone Truegold now? He felt left behind.

  "I hope the gas was not deadly," Mercy said next to him. She looked closer at the bound Skysworns, their chest rising and falling rapidly underneath her black tendrils. "Are they..." she paused, "laughing?"

  "Yes," Whitehall replied, trying to hide his irritation at her swift advancement. She was lowgold the last time he checked her spirit. "Laughing gas from water snails of the Wastelands."

  He felt boredom through his connection with Meatball and heard faint snoring at the back corner of the house. "Aren't you going to help?" he asked the Garuda, who was faking sleep in the corner.

  "What for?" the bird yawned. "They're handling it." Meatball must have felt Whitehall's frustration as the bird waved him over. "Come here. Might as well spend the rest of the time cycling."

  Sadi was still busy with the battle, and seeing Mercy by her side, Whitehall decided she would be safe. He grumbled under his breath, walking past the servants and sitting next to Meatball. He opened his void key and pulled out a vial of Spirit Well water from the rack his master had given him. He swallowed and began cycling and figuring out the other toxins.

  House of Blades

  Iteration requested. Amalgam

  Date? Request Rejected

  Report Complete

  "Sangkuriang," Dayang whispered, gazing down at the tiny bundle in her arms. The name rolled off her tongue like a quiet prayer as if speaking it aloud would anchor her son to the world.

  Mang sat beside her, his eyes soft with wonder as he reached out and ran his fingers through the baby's downy hair. "That's a lovely name," he murmured.

  The fire in their modest home crackled gently, casting long shadows against the wooden walls. Outside, the night was alive with the distant hum of insects, the rustling leaves whispering in the wind. But within these walls, there was only warmth, only the quiet sanctuary of their love and the life they had created.

  Dayang lifted her gaze to Mang. "Will he inherit your powers?" she asked.

  Mang’s smile faded slightly. His fingers stilled against Sangkuriang’s hair. "I don't know," he admitted. "But we must be careful. If the Chained finds out he is my son, they will hunt him, too."

  Dayang's grip tightened around the baby. "We could protect him," she said, her voice firm. "Together."

  Mang shook his head. "No. They must not know you exist." His voice was heavy, laced with an unspoken pain. "If they do, they’ll hunt you to get to me."

  Dayang frowned, searching his face. "Then what do we do?"

  Mang exhaled slowly, his eyes distant, as if already resigning himself to what must be done. "I'll have to hide in my dog form," he said. "Sangkuriang must not know I exist. But I'll always be here, watching over him."

  Silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken sorrow.

  Dayang finally nodded, but there was defiance in her eyes. "Then at least... you need to change back to your human form occasionally." She tilted her head, a small smirk playing on her lips. "At least when Sangkuriang is asleep."

  For the first time that night, Mang laughed—a real, full-bodied laugh that filled the space between them. Dayang joined in, their laughter mingling with the crackling fire, momentarily pushing back the weight of the future.

  No matter what lay ahead, they had this moment. And for now, that was enough.