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Lindon was already thinking about how he might do something similar. “And that involves fusing with your own Remnant?”

“Might be my ears are still tickling, but it sounds like you’re thinking about trying it,” Yerin said.

“Are you trying to be the world’s first Underlord Monarch, Lindon?” Eithan asked curiously. “You know, if you tried that, I’m fairly certain you would fail before your spirit and body collapsed in on themselves like a burning house. But I’ve been wrong before. Maybe you’d make it all the way to the collapse.”

Mercy gestured with Suu, which was now back in staff form. “That brings up another good point. Why are you still an Underlord, Lindon?”

In fact, Lindon had almost advanced the night before.

When he had found out they were supposed to stay in the Ninecloud Court one night longer than he wanted to, he had planned to immediately advance. He was sure he had his revelation figured out, and if not…well, the insight required to touch the Void Icon had to be harder than the one to reach Overlord.

But he and Dross had done some research.

“We looked up what Charity told us,” he said. “If we’re heading into the suppression field around Sacred Valley, it’s more of an advantage not to advance. The more advanced you are, the more it takes from you.”

“I will expect you all to carry me like a rescued princess,” Eithan declared.

Mercy gave Lindon a sympathetic look. “Was it hard for you?”

“Had to take his void key,” Yerin said. “Starting out, he told me not to let him advance, but he kept talking excuses. ‘What if I don’t get another chance?’ ‘I just want to see if I have the revelation right.’”

“I wasn’t lying,” Lindon protested.

Dross’ voice came into their heads, muffled slightly by distance. [Yes, he was.]

“Lindon’s cruel deceptions aside, it looks like we’re out of targets,” Eithan said. “The rest of us will have to wait for another chance.”

Some of the targeted cloudships had strayed from the line, scared off either by the birds or by the massive technique Yerin had used to defend them.

Mercy moved to the edge of the cloud and straddled her staff. “I’m going to go check on the ships.”

“I’ll come,” Yerin said, shoving her black-bladed sword back into her void key. “Have to show them I don’t have claws. And I want to see if I can make the next ship in one jump.”

“You definitely can,” Mercy began, but Yerin had already leaped with enough force that she kicked up dirt behind her.

Mercy followed after, flying on Suu, leaving Lindon alone with Eithan.

Ziel had wandered off to lie down by the pond, and it looked like he had fallen asleep instantly. The Sylvan Riverseeds were dancing on his face.

Eithan was waiting expectantly, so Lindon continued as he would have if Eithan hadn’t been present. He focused on a nearby clump of grass, steadying his breathing, gathering not madra or soulfire but his will.

“Hold,” Lindon ordered.

The blades of grass froze, locking in place as the others bent and bobbed in the wind.

Lindon maintained his concentration, but the working of will released before he was ready, his clump of grass joining those around it once again.

“I don’t know how to practice,” Lindon admitted. “Dross has explained everything he knows about Sages, but it isn’t much.”

Most of the more useful works about Sages were either restricted or too strange for him to understand. Sages didn’t usually write about their own powers to other Sages, after all.

There had been old attempts by Sages to pass down their powers to disciples, but they had never worked, and Lindon hadn’t been able to find any of those attempts in his brief search of the Ninecloud library the night before.

Eithan stroked his chin. “Picture, if you will, a building with many floors. Each floor is higher than the last, and each supports the one above it. These floors are the laws that govern our existence. At the bottom, the foundation, are the physical laws.”

He clapped his hands together. “It’s no less complex than the other systems, and it forms the basis for all of them, but it is superseded by the level above it.” He spread his palms apart slightly to reveal the blue-white coin he’d Forged. “Madra.”

A snap, and the madra disappeared. “With madra, we can break and bend and overrule the physical laws that would have bound us otherwise. Within certain rules and limits, of course. If we continue this analogy, soulfire is the staircase between the madra system and the next level up. At which we exert our wills to control the world directly.”

He gestured to the clump of grass that had once been frozen. “That is the level on which you and Yerin now operate. While she has enhanced her ability to add willpower to her own actions, you can take actions that you previously could not.”

Most of that, Lindon had already figured out to one degree or another, but he peered into the Archlord’s face for a long time, looking for…something.

After facing Eithan’s pleasant smile for too long, Lindon finally asked the question that was on his mind. “How do you know? How do you know any of this?”

Though Eithan had promised to stop keeping secrets, Lindon still expected an evasion, but Eithan squinted up into the sky and spoke.

“I was an advisor to the Monarch Tiberian Arelius.”

Lindon wondered if the “deflection” had been nothing more than a simple lie. “You were an Underlord.”

“I didn’t advise him on advancement, obviously. But I have always had an…instinctive grasp of the underlying theory behind the sacred arts, you might say. They found early on that I could handle dream tablets far beyond my age or advancement level, and that I could draw from them more insight than anyone else.”

Eithan swept blowing hair out of his face and gave Lindon a serious look. “You can call me what you like. Genius. Savant. Prodigy. Virtuoso. Once-in-a-lifetime intellect. I’ve always preferred that people look beyond who I am on the inside and really appreciate my gorgeous exterior.”

For a moment, Lindon was overwhelmed by the knowledge that Eithan had been advisor to a Monarch. He’d been trained by someone who had studied at the highest levels. Lindon wished he’d known earlier; he had missed so many chances to exploit Eithan’s knowledge.

Then again…

Eithan had always acted like he knew everything. And he had been careful about doling out knowledge a little at a time.

Maybe this wasn’t so much of a surprise.

Lindon pressed his fists together and bowed lightly. “Gratitude for your instruction.”

“I would appreciate it if you would keep that between you and the others, by the way,” Eithan said. “Most of my kinsmen don’t even know.”

“Pardon, but why not?”

“You know me, Lindon. I love nothing more than keeping a low profile.”

5

[Information requested: birth of the Mad King.]

[Beginning report…]

King Daruman the First was not only the ruler who united his Iteration, but who ushered it into an unprecedented golden age.

As a warrior, he was unparalleled, bringing his sword against the planet-eaters that plagued his people.

As a king, he was known both for his wisdom and his character. Even his rivals found no blemish on his integrity, and his people were fed, happy, and educated. “To seek the knowledge of Daruman” became a common saying meaning “to seek absolute truth.”

He ruled for three hundred years, until he felt the realm was stable enough to pass on to a successor. Not to a child of his, but to a candidate that proved themselves before the realm.