As a result, his veils were sloppy. For eight hours straight, Orthos forced him to practice veiling his power over and over until Orthos could feel the difference from only a yard away in the cave. Lindon pointed out that if Ekeri was nose-to-nose with him, she would be able to see him, which only earned him a lecture about how useful veils were. Especially for him, with his two cores; he needed to be able to hide anything unusual about his spirit at a moment’s notice.
On the bright side, the water from the Dream Well made the training practically paradise by Lindon’s usual standards. Anytime his concentration wavered from its peak, or exhaustion started weighing him down, he took another vial of purple water and it was like starting over fresh. Lindon was starting to think he’d get addicted.
Dross told him that he was the only sacred artist in the history of the facility to be able to use the Dream Well so lavishly, but as Lindon saw it, the water had been left to pile up for the past fifty-six years. It was about time someone used it.
When Orthos was confident enough in Lindon’s veil, Lindon made Dross check the situation outside. He contacted the security constructs and found that Ekeri had blanketed the area in her spiritual perception...but she wasn’t physically watching his entrance anymore.
So he’d snuck out quietly to go fishing.
Orthos had declared his veil exceptional; not because of his hasty practice, but because pure madra was difficult to detect by nature. Any veil he made was twice as effective. Which brought up another problem: Lindon couldn’t switch cores.
He wasn’t skilled enough to veil Blackflame, and that Path was hard to hide anyway. As a fellow dragon, Ekeri would be able to discover Blackflame anywhere within this habitat—which was what Dross called the pockets of air within the giant bubbles.
Which meant Lindon had to catch one of these Highgold-level fish, kill it, and bring it back without using Blackflame. He had a plan for that too, but not one he liked.
He felt like he saw eyes on him with every crunch of his shoes on sand, but a golden dragon-girl didn’t leap out of her two-story fortress of Forged madra and burn him to death, so he had to assume he was still hidden. After creeping around, it had only taken him a few minutes to locate one of the drifting fish.
The bear-sized creature slid lazily over Lindon’s head, silver scales glinting in the dim yellow light. Its fangs clashed like spears, but it didn’t seem to notice him at all. As Dross had said, they seemed to hunt by spiritual perception alone.
Dross, tucked away in the now-purple gem stuffed into the pocket of his outer robes, started to say something. Lindon slapped him. He muttered to himself, but stayed quiet.
Now it was time to execute Orthos’ plan, which—in its entirety—consisted of one step: “Hit it with your arm.”
Lindon couldn’t help but feel a little nervous about that advice.
Without a full-body Enforcer technique, Lindon had to use basic Enforcement on his entire body. The spirit had a strengthening effect on the body, with or without the guidance of a technique, and all he was doing was pouring effort into that. It was horribly inefficient, and it would exhaust his madra more quickly and provide worse results compared to a real Enforcer technique.
However, it did make him stronger.
Lindon jumped ten feet straight up, seizing the fish’s tail in his left hand. He dragged it down to the ground, though the fish fluttered and strained to stay in the air. As it fell, it gave off a deafening shriek.
Now he had a deadline.
According to Dross, the fish screamed to one another every once in a while under natural conditions, so its cry shouldn’t alert Ekeri, even if she heard it. However, the other fish would start coming immediately.
He didn’t sense any other sacred beasts within a hundred yards, so even in the worst-case scenario, he had a few seconds.
Lindon threw his whole body over the creature to pin it to the ground, though it was still strong. Its flailing and flopping nearly bucked him off. But in a moment, he had locked his legs around it.
Now it was time to execute Orthos’ plan.
He pulled back his white arm, filling it with the power of his pure core, and began slamming it into the fish’s head.
The sacred beast screamed and screamed. Dross assured him they weren’t any more intelligent than normal fish, just more powerful, but the shrieks bothered him anyway. Lindon hammered until the silver scales began to crack, and dark blood splattered his face.
This is why I need a weapon, he thought. Of course, there was every chance he would have lost a weapon at the same time he had lost his pack.
When the fish’s spasms began to weaken, he gripped the sharp tips of his white fingers into its newly exposed flesh.
Then he triggered the binding in his arm.
Gladly, the limb started gulping down the creature’s madra. The arm seemed to grow more dense as it fed, more real, though strangely enough it seemed to get a shade darker as well. Like it was shading to gray instead of its normal, pristine white.
When Lindon had gotten the arm, he’d hoped that the hunger binding would allow him to steal madra from other sacred artists. That, he reasoned, would help him to learn more Paths.
But other than the obvious practical downsides to such a plan, he’d since learned that the hunger binding was not as simple to use as the Ancestor’s Spear had been. Maybe there would be a day when he could use the arm to pull madra into his core.
Until then, he had at least learned one trick.
When the arm had absorbed so much water madra from the fish that it started to tint blue-green, Lindon vented the excess power. Aquatic madra sprayed from his forearm, splattering like rain on the sand before it dissolved into essence.
The arm could swallow some madra of any aspect to strengthen itself, but anything more than that amount would start changing the aspects of the limb’s madra. Unless Lindon wanted the limb of a water-Remnant, he had to vent the extra madra before it corrupted the arm too much.
The Ancestor’s Spear had a similar feature, and Jai Long had used it in his battle against Lindon. Based on that principle, Lindon had a few ideas for using it in combat, but he had yet to test any of them.
Without its madra, the fish had lost the will to resist. It flopped once or twice more as Lindon drove his fist into its skull until he heard something crack.
Then, at last, the creature was still.
Without missing a breath, Lindon grabbed the creature in both hands and started dragging it across the sand. It wasn’t quite as heavy as Orthos, but it still wasn’t light.
And silver-blue light bloomed as a Remnant began to rise from the body.
The Remnant looked like a wire model of the same fish, and it pulled itself free of the body as Lindon continued marching. He kept an eye behind him, hoping to lose it, and let out a breath of relief as he passed around a clump of tree-sized stalks. The Remnants didn’t seem as dangerous as their living forms.
When he turned back to the front, he was standing face-to-face with a wall of fangs.
This new fish gave a shriek that stabbed his ears, and Lindon ducked just in time. Even so, the fish’s scales scraped against his scalp as it swam past his head.
Lindon turned, following the fish...only to see the shining form of the Remnant drift straight through a stalk.