Something else did, though.
Lindon knew immediately it wasn’t a ghoul, despite the white hand that pulled through the stone. Yerin struck at it as the hand appeared, but her sword was deflected by a punch from a thick gauntlet.
The spiritual pressure of a Herald filled the room, and Lindon’s heart dropped.
This was another black-and-white copy of an expert from ages past, but unlike the ghost they’d conjured of Mercy’s mother, this one had real power.
Lindon didn’t recognize him—he wasn’t one of the current generation of Monarchs, and may have died centuries before—but he was a short, broad-shouldered man with thick metal gauntlets on either hand. Another eye hovered over his head, and he met them with an arrogant grin, clashing one gauntlet against another.
Ziel’s eyes went wide, and he levered his hammer in position. “Steel Dragon’s Mountain!”
Lindon didn’t know if that was a technique, a place, an organization, or even a Path. But the echo dashed forward with a punch, and Lindon could feel overwhelming force madra. Yerin matched his punch with her sword, and the entire room shook with their clash.
Space rippled, and it was a measure of the strength this past expert carried that he only took one step back from Yerin.
He grinned at her, and she held her sword up in acknowledgement.
Then Mercy and Eithan struck, without regard for any honorable duel. Arrows landed with the force of the Dark Tide Incantation, and Eithan struck out with the complete version of the Hollow Spear.
The Herald wove through the arrows, his speed a blur, and met Eithan’s Hollow Spear with a massive Forged fist superimposing his own: a Forger echo technique.
Rather than the battle, Lindon and Dross were focused on analyzing the underlying technique.
[This application of hunger madra is far outside your meager understanding,] Dross declared.
You think I could learn this?
That would be beyond useful, and could perhaps have synergy with Dross. If Dross could comprehend and remember the strength behind other sacred artists, and Lindon could mimic them with hunger madra…
Dross cackled at Lindon’s expense. [You don’t think you’re a real hunger artist, do you? Master Northstrider can copy the wills of those he devours into his techniques, but your use of hunger is simple and crude. Even if you had the skill, you are not on a true hunger Path, and all you can do is manipulate your arm’s binding.]
The Consume technique in his arm was indeed the most basic and straightforward use of hunger madra; it was like a fire binding designed solely to burn things. There was nothing subtle or complex about it, but it had limitless applications.
Reluctantly, Lindon abandoned his dream of an army of ghostly sacred artists under his command. Can we disable the technique?
[If you’re willing to pay the cost, Void Sage.] Lindon could hear the sneer in Dross’ voice.
Lindon had been forced to infuse his will into virtually everything he’d done since entering the labyrinth, and it was harder and harder to recover his mental energy. The hunger aura devoured even that.
But he still focused on the manifested phantom of the Herald. He would be defeated eventually—he was constantly on the defensive against his four opponents—but their every exchange wasted energy.
“Enough,” Lindon commanded.
The technique was a contained construct of energy, and Lindon ordered that energy to empty out.
It was well within the authority of the Void Icon, and the Herald instantly lost a chunk of strength. Yerin’s sword passed through him an instant later, and then Ziel’s hammer crushed him.
But Lindon’s mind spun, and he had to sit down. That working had taken something out of him, and he wasn’t sure how much he could do before he rested.
The same went for the others. Every technique they’d used to oppose this echo was a technique they couldn’t use later.
And there was no way this was the only ghost in the labyrinth’s arsenal. What if they had to face Malice later, with actual power behind her techniques?
Or even one of the Dreadgods?
When two more exits appeared, Lindon hesitated as he brought out the box containing the hand. “Eithan, can you tell…”
Eithan was already shaking his head. “They both lead deeper, but I can’t follow them far enough.”
“I hesitate to use the hand. If it Forges more experts, I’m not certain we can handle them.”
Ziel let out a long breath. His horns began to glow green, and a circle of runes started floating around the head of the hammer.
“Is the route back still open?” he asked.
“Nope,” Eithan said.
“Well that’s too bad. Use the hand. Whatever shows up, leave it to me.”
Lindon and Yerin traded a look. They didn’t want to be skeptical of Ziel’s ability, but if the labyrinth could simulate Heralds…
“Orthos had the right idea,” Ziel went on. “I can’t help here. I can with whatever’s going on out there.” He levered his hammer up in both hands. “I’ll cover you, then you eject me.”
Lindon wanted to argue, but Ziel was right. If he spent his energy now, they wouldn’t have to waste resources covering for him. It was the best use of Ziel. Lindon just didn’t want it to be.
In the end, since they were short on time, Lindon pulled out the Dreadgod’s hand.
This time, the surge of ghouls that rose from the ground couldn’t be counted. It was a tide of animated hunger madra.
Lindon immediately recognized that this couldn’t be left to Ziel. No matter how confident he was, his Path wasn’t suited to this situation. It was a job for the Hollow Domain, and Lindon diverted his attention from Subject One’s authority and started to use his technique.
But Ziel had prepared. The circle of runes spinning around his hammer expanded immediately, taking on the entire room.
He inhaled as he lifted his hammer…then he brought it down.
The entire room exploded with force. Even the stone cracked, and Lindon’s feet left the ground for a moment, though of course no one lost their balance.
The hunger techniques detonated, sending sprays of essence into the air, and Lindon tucked the hand away. He pointed to the hallway the hand had indicated.
But then another echo appeared. This time, it was a woman spinning a ring around each hand. Each ring was sharp on the outside, and there was another ring floating around her forehead, though this one was clearly a Goldsign.
She nodded at Ziel before hurling one of the rings at him. As it flew, it multiplied in an instant until dozens of rings flew at him.
From the spiritual pressure alone, Lindon wasn’t sure if she was a Herald, but this should at least be the echo of an Archlord.
The Forged rings crashed into Ziel, who braced himself for the impact. Four huge runes floated around him, projecting a column of force that cracked and shuddered under every impact.
Lindon cycled Blackflame, but Ziel glanced to him beneath shining horns. His voice was so low that Lindon wouldn’t have been able to understand his words over the crashing techniques without the hearing of an Overlord.
“What did I say?” Ziel asked wearily.
Then he exploded.
Green force erupted from him in every direction, blasting aside the rings in the air, and he hurled himself at the colorless woman. She herself was surrounded by several looping lights, which Lindon recognized as some kind of full-body Enforcer technique.
Ziel’s hammer crashed against two rings that she held in her hand, and once again the clash between them was deafening.
Several blades flew out from her—Striker techniques, and Lindon suspected they were propelled by launcher constructs. They swerved to attack Ziel, but his movement blurred, and his hammer shattered every one of them.
Neither moved particularly quickly, at least by Lindon’s standards, but each impact was sturdy. Ziel was burning through soulfire, infusing his runes so that his script-circles lasted longer. Therefore, as the fight went on, more and more green rings surrounded his arms, legs, and hammer.