“You’re forgiven,” Eithan intoned.
Lindon glanced at a wooden card sitting next to a case carrying a scripted sword. Flying Sword, it said. When powered by Iron-quality madra, this weapon is capable of levitating through vital aura and striking with the force of a real sword.
He remembered it, though he wasn’t sure if this was the same weapon. When he was here before, he had ached at having to leave this behind. It had no aspect requirement, so he’d wanted to keep it for later in his advancement.
Next to it was a dormant construct, a tiny humanoid puppet of wood and bronze with arms curled around its knees. Guardian Puppet. Requires a constant infusion of madra, but can be controlled directly in combat.
Aspect requirement: earth preferred.
Lindon didn’t remember seeing this one here before. Would he have taken it, if it had been? How would that have changed his first battles?
On his shoulder, Little Blue peeped curiously. He wondered if she remembered starting her life here.
Down the row, he spotted a shining Starlotus bud. The spirit-fruit that had started him to Copper. There were scripted boundary flags, various weapons, one construct he suspected was a drudge, even two Thousand-Mile Clouds.
Looking out over it all, Lindon found it hard to remember what he’d seen before.
“Some of these are the products of our craftsmen,” Grand Elder Emara explained. “Others we have commissioned or captured. They might not meet your standards, but these can become valuable to the development of our young Coppers and Irons. Elder Rahm can explain further.”
“I gave them a tour once,” Rahm said stiffly. “I won’t be repeating that mistake.”
With a smile plastered on her face, Emara sidled up to Rahm to whisper into his ear.
Eithan held up a hand. “I’m sorry to order you about in your own home, but why don’t you speak so we can all hear? We wouldn’t want any collusion against us, would we?”
They all could have heard the two elders whispering from next door, especially Eithan, so Lindon wondered why he would prevent the Jades from talking. If they thought they were speaking privately, they might reveal something valuable.
But the elders were only getting part of his attention. Most of Lindon’s focus went to the Lesser Treasure Hall.
Ziel strolled back down an aisle. When he reached Lindon, he spoke under his breath. “This is junk.”
That summarized Lindon’s thoughts rather succinctly.
The flying sword had been made from cheap iron. Its edges were brittle, its script clumsily carved. Just by etching the runes more precisely, they could have improved the efficiency by half. And the script was so long and poorly designed that it would interfere with any other scripts added to the weapon; if they had chosen their runes better, they could have added two, maybe three more modifications to the sword.
The Guardian Puppet would shatter like dry twigs in front of the first real attack. And it couldn’t function autonomously at all, so what good was it? If you were pouring your madra into something, you might as well just swing a hammer.
Even the Starlotus bud, toward which Lindon still felt some affection, now struck him as pathetic. Compared to a real spirit-fruit, it was like a drop of dew next to a glass of wine.
“At least there’s some halfsilver,” Lindon whispered back to Ziel, who dipped his head in concession.
Of everything in the hall, the only things worth Lindon’s attention were the weapons of halfsilver and goldsteel. And even then, only for their raw materials.
In an afternoon of work, Lindon could fill this hall with more powerful treasures. Using only local Remnants and scrap metal.
He shouldn’t have been disappointed, but he was.
If he got the chance, he still wanted to check out the Elder Treasure Hall, but he was much less eager to do so. He now suspected there was nothing of value in this entire school.
“…would like to hear more about this threat,” Emara was saying to Eithan. “If you have come here in the hopes of conquering territory, I can assure you, the Heaven’s Glory School is more than willing to negotiate.”
“Ah, but we are not the threat. How could we be? Look at our charming faces! No, the threat comes from the west.” Eithan tapped the ground with the point of his shoe. “Surely you’ve noticed.”
Emara and Rahm exchanged glances, and this time even Rahm looked worried. The earth trembled beneath them at that moment. It was almost gentle, but some of the objects rattled against their cases.
“We have spoken with the other schools about these signs,” the Grand Elder allowed. “Our final decision has been delayed due to a cowardly attack by our enemies.”
Rahm shifted to whisper into Emara’s ear, but he was stopped by a sharp smile from Eithan. The Jade woman continued without seeming to notice. “Please, allow us the time to consult with the other elders when they return.”
“And where are they?” Eithan asked.
“They have gone to punish our attackers. We needed every Jade we could spare to deal with their—”
“Wait!” Rahm shouted, but he was too late to stop her.
“—giant turtle,” she finished. Then she turned a frown on Rahm.
Lindon’s breath left him.
He’d felt Orthos’ presence as they approached. Those Striker techniques that had cut rainstone buildings to pieces: black dragon’s breath.
Orthos had come here. To his home. He’d attacked the Heaven’s Glory School to get something.
Someone.
He had tried to escape…and failed.
Three days ago.
Yerin seized the woman by the front of her outer robe. “Where?” Yerin demanded.
“The…the camp at the base of the Fallen Leaf—”
“Point!”
The Jade extended a shaky finger pointing deeper into the valley.
Eithan closed his eyes, and Lindon felt his perception extend. He even caught the hair-thin strands of madra from his Arelius bloodline power, so subtle that ordinarily no one could detect them.
“I see where they passed through, but I can’t…” He gave a frustrated grunt and opened his eyes again. “…I can’t see them. I’m sorry.”
“But you can confirm their direction?” Lindon asked.
Eithan nodded.
Lindon slipped Little Blue into his void key, opening it for only an instant. Then he took off running.
He shot away from the Heaven’s Glory School with the full speed of the Soul Cloak, pure madra flowing around him in waves of blue and white.
There were other routes out of the School. Heaven’s Glory covered more of the mountain than he had ever seen, but he only knew one way in and out. Fortunately, it was the route just ahead of him.
A soft pink glow came from the edge of the cliff he was sprinting towards. But it wasn’t a cliff; the road headed straight for it.
It was the top of a staircase.
Lindon plunged into the cloud of dream madra without hesitation.
When he was here last, the Heaven’s Glory School had called the process of climbing these stairs the Trial of Glorious Ascension. Those students who could make it up within a time limit were rewarded beyond those who could not.
To the mortal eye, it looked like a cloud of pink mist with hazy silhouettes flickering through. Sounds, strange and intimidating, drifted away from its heart.
To the spiritual senses, it felt like a concentration of emotions and dreams, a nexus of spiritual pressure and illusions. It was haunted by Remnants and natural spirits, either grown in this unique environment or cultivated by the Heaven’s Glory School. As soon as he crossed the barrier, they turned hungry eyes to him.
Then they bolted.
As Lindon sprinted down the vast staircase, he felt dream Remnants fleeing from him in all directions.