Yet another thing he’d learned from the collective.
The silver fire was exhausted as it sunk into every droplet of the water. It was solid white now, but it glimmered with a metallic sheen.
Dross gathered himself, looking for Lindon. One more step, and he needed a physical body for this part.
Then the grand work would be complete.
The dragon’s breath met in a furious conflagration over Harmony’s body, an inferno of black and red. The ball of fire devoured the nearby stone, so that it looked like they’d scooped out chunks of the wall and floor with a massive shovel. The rock glowed cherry red, but thanks to the destruction aspect of Blackflame, it left no molten stone behind.
Lindon and Orthos released their techniques together.
“Do we have a way out?” Orthos asked.
“Dross is working on it.”
“He should work faster.”
Harmony stepped out of the fading black-and-red madra, clad from head to toe in armor of violet crystal. The black disc hovered behind his helmet, and light shone where his eyes should be.
He extended one armored hand, and a metal axe shimmered as it appeared from his soulspace. It had a shaft as long as he was that looked as though it was made of one long bone, and its broad, curved head glistened with a red light.
When he gripped the weapon in both hands, Lindon felt Dross behind him. He clapped Orthos on the shell.
“Hold him back. I’ll open the portal.”
“Hold him back?” Orthos repeated, but the axe was already descending on him. Snarling, he leaped away.
Dross panted as he arrived, even fainter than before. Lindon could see the wheels turning inside him, his madra channels looping around his core.
“Let...me...in...”
Lindon didn’t ask questions. He seized the spirit, drawing him into his core without hesitation, dashing toward the portal.
“How do I start this?” he asked, as the chamber quaked with Orthos’ and Harmony’s battle.
“Wrong way, wrong way!” Dross shouted inside his head. “Turn, turn, turn!”
Confused, Lindon turned so that he was facing the jeweled tree. Orthos leaped away from a crater of cracked stone, and Harmony was a violet blur as he pursued.
“Back to the basin!”
Despite his frustration, Lindon obeyed. “What are we doing?”
“That is called ghostwater!”
Lindon saw the shimmering diamond-colored liquid and understood. This was the fourth well.
“Will this help us beat Harmony?”
“Eh, well...it will help you fight Harmony, I can guarantee that much.”
Lindon stopped in front of the basin. Little Blue saw him and cheered like jangling coins, hopping back inside the void storage. Tapping his void key to close the door, Lindon looked down at the shimmering milk.
“Northstrider’s grand work failed because this collective mind he created had no initiative or creativity, you see. It did only what it was told. Not to brag, but as it turns out, all they had to do was let a memory construct soak in the Mind Well for fifty years.”
Lindon ducked his entire head into the white water.
“You could take this yourself, if you wanted,” Dross continued. “Your mind would be enhanced far beyond Harmony’s. But if you give it to me, we’ll have finished Northstrider’s project.”
As the water rushed through his body, it started to gather at the base of his skull.
Lindon seized it.
As tempting as it would be to see what the ultimate product of Ghostwater could do for his advancement, Orthos could only last so long. A Monarch artifact would go a long way here.
He guzzled down the ghostwater, cycling it all to Dross.
Orthos crashed into the ground next to him, Burning Cloak dying. He struggled to rise to his feet, but failed. There were new cracks in his skull, smaller but leaking light.
“I’m at my end,” he said, voice low.
Lindon couldn’t turn enough to see Harmony, but he could feel the Akura behind him, like the shadow of death. Edged darkness gathered, approaching him as the scythe approached the wheat.
Dross was spinning in his core. The ghostwater started to draw him up, through Lindon’s channels, until the spirit rested where his neck met his head.
Lindon finished the last of the ghostwater, taking a deep breath. “What do I do?” he demanded.
There was a brief, sharp pain in his spirit, like a pinprick on his neck that cut straight to the soul. And then Dross was part of him, seared into his madra channels like he’d been nailed there.
Dross’ voice echoed in Lindon’s mind and soul.
[One battle plan, coming up.]
Information requested: combat solution against Akura Harmony.
Beginning report…
Now, you’re going to want to get right on this, because there’s a Striker technique about six inches from your spine that will split you like a fish.
One thin edge of shadow, a line stretching from floor to ceiling, approaches Lindon’s back. As it streaks away from Harmony, it cuts a line in the floor.
That armor of his is the bloodline legacy of the Akura family. That’s an advantage for us. He didn’t make it with his Path, so he doesn’t have full control of it. He’s not supposed to use the full armor until Underlord, anyway, so his movements will be wide.
The violet crystal armor encasing Harmony feeds on his madra. Lindon can feel it in his spiritual perception; it’s draining Harmony’s spirit and most of his attention. His core is on the edge of empty, and he has to Enforce himself to even move.
That axe is an Underlord weapon too. He can’t bring out its power. Silly, isn’t it? He thought of it as an emergency measure, but he would have been better off taking a weapon he could handle. It will still take your head off, though.
The binding isn’t active. Now, with all this information flowing through him in one surge of images and emotions, Lindon can feel it. He’s shocked he didn’t notice it before.
The weapon itself is still powerful, but Harmony can’t activate the binding.
First, get rid of the Striker technique. Shouldn’t be too hard for you.
Lindon turns, the technique in his white arm activating, and he sweeps the shadow-blade aside. His hand devours the madra, staining slightly dark.
Distract him. Throw sand at him or something.
The stolen madra vents into Harmony’s face, confusing his eyes and his perception at once. Unshaped, the madra forms a handful of black needles. The shadow and sword aspects fight one another, so they’re not deadly, but they are a distraction.
Right, now block his blind strike.
The red-edged axe swings at him, and Lindon reaches for the haft. He’s not fast enough. The axe cleaves through hand, arm, shoulder, blood spraying into the air. The pain fades quickly as the cold haze of death closes in.
Er, sorry, I mean dodge it.
Lindon ducks, and the swipe of the axe passes over his head. He is unharmed, and Malice is off-balance.
Disrupt his footing.
He reaches for Harmony’s armored ankle, heaving with a Burning Cloak-empowered pull. It’s too soon for Harmony to steady himself, and he’s hauled from his feet.