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When the Bleeding Phoenix was no longer visible, even to her, she let her armor fade into great clouds of shining violet essence that rose into the clouds. She hovered in the air, stretching her arms and spirit at once. She got far too little exercise as a Monarch, and her armor was a serious burden. At least against a real opponent.

Northstrider appeared next to her, clothes rumpled and golden eyes scowling.

“Good thing I was here to help,” Malice said. “You look terrible.”

He looked the same as always, unshaven and unkempt, with scavenged clothing. Like a homeless king. But what she felt from him was another story.

His spirit was strained and weak, and she was sure his mind was on the verge of collapse. He had fought bitterly.

Northstrider ground his jaw, and she detected the heat of real anger. “Do you know what you were risking, letting those children face the Titan?”

“May I remind you that one of those children is my own?”

“You were supposed to replace Yerin Arelius in driving off the Dreadgod, not join her.”

“I thought things were proceeding quite well, until…” Malice’s voice gained an icy chill with all her hatred boiling behind it. “…he stuck his paws where they were not wanted.”

Northstrider crossed black-scaled arms. “If anything, that proves how high the stakes are. Now we know for certain he can rouse and direct the Dreadgods, and he revealed that card to get rid of a pack of Lords.”

“He has been claiming that ability for years now. I suspect that show wasn’t for us.”

By moving the Phoenix, Reigan Shen had not only threatened to remove valuable members of the next generation—including Malice’s own daughter—but he had proved his claims to the neutral Monarchs. Northstrider and Malice had been forced to spend their own time and energy, so he had exhausted them at no cost or risk to himself. A fine move.

This was exactly the sort of price she had expected when she gave up Fury. For a while, she would be vulnerable.

But she could endure, and when she did, she would be in a better situation than ever.

“Take care of those children,” Northstrider said flatly, which pricked her pride.

“Do you think I, of all people, need a lecture from you on how to protect my own family?”

His perception stretched out into the distance. “Perhaps you need lessons in spatial transfer.”

She reached out on her own, and with shock felt Yerin almost immediately. Mercy, Eithan, and Lindon were all there too, their presences a bit fainter than Yerin’s.

Had they just arrived? Yerin may have taken the Moonlight Bridge back, if it had recovered its full capabilities, but how had the others returned so quickly? The Void Icon had a good connection to spatial abilities, but if Lindon had taken them all this way unaided, he was a prodigy the likes of which the world hadn’t seen in millennia.

She realized the truth after only a few more moments of examination. Reigan Shen’s anchor.

Malice spared another moment of anger for the lion. Even his belongings were opposing her now.

“Hmmm…I suppose I should return their cloudship,” Malice said, more lightly than she felt. “Leave them to me, and concern yourself instead with Shen’s next move.”

Northstrider looked into the horizon where the Phoenix vanished, and his reflective black orb appeared over his shoulder. It flashed with madra as it communicated with him.

“I’m going into seclusion again,” he said after a moment. “Fate has been moving…erratically.”

Malice nodded. She could only agree.

She had far more talent in reading the future than he did, the Shadow Icon being more connected to Fate than any of his, but he had his own means.

“I put what forces I can spare at your disposal. The Wastelanders have agreed to protect the Blackflame Empire in my absence, and the Beast King and his fellow Heralds will help you keep the cults in check.”

“So gracious of you.” Fury had driven off the Dreadgod cults, but not too far. They were drifting around her territory, behaving themselves for now, but she had to keep her eye on them.

If Northstrider was vanishing again on one of his projects, then she would need help to protect herself from both the awakened Dreadgods and their cults. The unaffiliated Heralds who occasionally answered to Northstrider would go a long way toward helping her maintain stability in the continent.

“How long will you be gone this time?” she asked.

“Difficult to say. The more I can refine my oracle codex, the better odds I have of removing Shen myself, and the more clearly I can see the future.” Gold eyes turned to her. “Unless you can share more details than you already have.”

She smirked at him, letting him know she enjoyed having sight where he was blind. “As I said, the Dreadgods loom larger than they have before. All other possibilities are scattered and unpredictable. Too vague to lean on.”

He grunted. “You may call me if the worst should occur.”

“Oh, do I have your permission? I will keep an eye on the future and the other Monarchs, while I maintain my cordon on the labyrinth entrances. He won’t be able to act without us seeing him now, and time is on our side.”

The Dreadgods would run out of energy soon, if they kept up this level of activity. The cults were expending energy without gaining any back, and Malice was slowly absorbing the half of the continent the gold dragons had once ruled.

The longer this stalemate went on, the more territory she would claim. All she had to do was wait.

“We’ll see,” Northstrider responded.

Then he tore open the fabric of the world and flowed into the Way.

“Always so rude,” Malice murmured. Then she stretched her awareness out for hundreds of miles around her. There was no one who mattered.

She didn’t like to do this when she wasn’t fully secured, but Northstrider had her wondering.

So Malice slipped into the World of Night and summoned shadows of the future.

2

Information restricted: Personal Record 0013.

Authorization required to access.

Authorization confirmed: 008 Ozriel.

Beginning record…

In the legends of the ancient Rosegold continent, long forgotten by the current inhabitants of Cradle, there is a mythical location that contains all the secrets of the sacred arts. A buried city of infinite insight. A child’s tale. Anyone who finds the city and walks its streets will gain secret techniques of surpassing power, will never face any bottlenecks when advancing, and will understand secret wisdom of the heavens that will allow them to ascend.

There is no historical precedent for this location. It’s purely a myth.

But at one point on the Rosegold continent, it was a common topic of discussion. If you sought easy advancement, or tried to refine your Path, it was said that you were “Seeking Arelia.”

Ozmanthus, a boy named after a flower, was said to be seeking Arelia from the time he was a child. From his earliest years, he ran through the tunnels of the mountain in which he was born, looking for secrets in those dark caves.

Even at the initial stages of advancement, later known as Copper, he had discernment and understanding far beyond his peers. He astonished his tutors with questions about the nature and origin of vital aura, questions they were nowhere near advanced enough to answer. His control of madra made him a prodigy in his own right, so there was no lack of teachers competing to take him as a student.

This was a relief to his mother, who had no money to subsidize the advancement of a powerful sacred artist.

At Copper, Ozmanthus was celebrated for his skill. He was popular not just among his tutors, but among those his age.

At Iron, Ozmanthus became famous in his generation. He designed and perfected his own Iron body, and was once again said to be seeking Arelia. Everyone expected great things.