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His stride was just as uneven as the technique; he would dash forward, then stumble as strength left him, then shoot off far faster than he intended as his Enforcer technique gave him more of a boost. He kept his perception extended in case his team was on their way back, which had similar drawbacks; the distance and clarity of his spiritual sense varied by the second. But he made progress quickly, and soon he passed beneath the Overlord battle.

Which immediately proved to be a mistake.

The battle was hardly stationary; the two sacred artists were zipping across the sky. Jai Long had balanced slipping past them with staying out of the way, but there was only so much he could do.

A blast of wind from the Emperor tore apart a tree to his right, and he was caught with an enhanced gust of wind that tossed him thirty feet back and peppered him with sharp splinters.

He managed to land on his feet and block his eyes with an arm, but his body was covered with tiny cuts and scratches. If the attack had been a few yards closer, it would have shattered every bone in his body. At best.

Jai Long plunged forward.

Lightning dragons screamed through the sky and hands of wind hurled trees, but he kept his eyes and perception ahead. So he saw immediately when a beam of pink light streamed into the sky at an angle.

Jai Long brightened and kicked off again as soon as he could. That was Fingerling’s fire breath; he would know it anywhere. Then the light flashed red, and he felt a sudden surge of overwhelming power.

It was Redmoon Hall. He was certain.

Through sheer will, he squeezed every ounce of speed out of his Enforcer technique. There were no more signs of battle coming from that direction, and he tried not to think about what that would mean. His heart pounded in his throat, and his breath was harsh. He gripped the spear so tight he thought he might snap it.

He crested a hill, and thus saw the source of the blood madra at the same time as he sensed it.

Yerin sat with her arms crossed in the center of a circle of blasted trees, looking sullen, as Eithan danced from one side of a narrow pass to the other at Archlord speed to cut off the retreat of a bunch of Stormcallers. Who looked very frightened.

Jai Long’s squad was battered and burned…but they were alive.

Mercy was there, holding Orthos and Little Blue, and it seemed like she was lecturing Yerin about something.

Jai Chen was on her knees, catching her breath, while an agitated Fingerling swirled in the air over her head. Kelsa was nearby, her Foxfire tail lashing. She faced a Lowgold Stormcaller who shuffled from foot to foot nervously and kept glancing behind him.

Jai Long’s relief almost disrupted his breathing and cut off his Enforcer technique, but he seized the cycling pattern at the last second and dashed down. It only took him a moment to arrive.

He awkwardly tucked away his spear and wrapped his face as he ran. He wouldn’t want to disgust anyone.

“…least he was an Underlord,” Yerin muttered. “Not like I threw a Copper into the sun.”

Mercy shook her head. “No, I’m not saying your heart wasn’t in the right place! But he was as helpless against you as our team was against him.”

“They can keep his Remnant, supposing they still want it.”

A miniature Remnant version of the Weeping Dragon slunk along the ground, shooting fearful glances at Yerin. Nearby, an unidentifiable pile told Jai Long what had happened to the spirit’s body.

“It’s very important that we adhere to the rules of fair play!” Eithan called, blocking another escape attempt by the handful of Golds. “Speaking of which, how’s the duel going?”

Kelsa gestured to her opponent, who was on his knees. “He surrendered.”

“That makes one victory for us! Or…Yerin, do you think your sudden ambush of an Underlord should count as a victory?”

The dragon-Remnant whimpered.

“I don’t feel good about this,” Kelsa muttered.

Eithan nodded in understanding. “Ah yes, by all means let us return to murdering each other more honorably.”

Mercy slammed her staff into the ground, and shadow pulsed out from the base. The Stormcallers flinched back. “There are reasons for this, and you know it! No one wants a slaughter where only the most advanced sacred artists survive!”

“I wish that were true…” Eithan said wistfully.

But he did stand aside and let the Golds rush off. Kelsa’s opponent bowed to her one more time before retreating, and the Remnant slithered after him.

“Not lining up to cut Jades into pieces, am I?” Yerin complained. “We’ll take your path, then. Who’s a match for me?”

Mercy hesitated. Eithan shaded his eyes and made a show of peering around. “You’re a bit of an exception, but by common understanding…him!”

He pointed to the battle between Overlords through which Jai Long had just crossed. The fight was winding down as the Overlords ran out of madra, so larger techniques weren’t as common as they had been minutes before.

Yerin took a moment to take aim. “Neat and tidy,” she said. Then she unleashed a line of bright silver-red madra.

The Stormcaller Overlord had a moment to turn and put up a block before he was obliterated.

Yerin glared at Mercy. “You want me to go fight his Remnant with one hand behind my back?”

“Maybe we should find a new opponent for you,” Mercy allowed. “Are there any Archlords out here?”

As though summoned by her words, Ziel flew through the air, his gray cloak fluttering with the wake of his speed. A ring of green runes flashed in the air, stopping him, and he dropped in front of Yerin.

“I felt Stormcallers,” he said, and his eyes were unusually bright.

Yerin jerked a thumb in their direction. “Just missed ‘em. You can catch up.”

“They’re just Golds!” Mercy protested.

Ziel’s shoulders slumped. “Oh.”

Blackflame Emperor Naru Huan raised a hand in Yerin’s direction, and she returned it lazily. Then he flew off on wide emerald wings.

Jai Long had walked up to join Kelsa and his sister, and they watched the exchange together. For such a frightening display, it had been disturbingly casual.

He looked to his squad.

“I came to save you,” he said.

Kelsa nodded seriously. “Gratitude.”

Reigan Shen stalked out of the Nethergate, but not with as much triumph in his heart as he had imagined.

If he were in his lion form, his tail would be lashing. He had the Slumbering Wraith’s core binding tucked away in a sealed case, he’d come out with the unexpected bounty of Ozmanthus Arelius’ Soulsmith inheritance, and he was about to see the sunlight he had dreamed of for months.

But he had been driven out of his own den.

He would challenge it again soon, but all the time inside the labyrinth had weakened him greatly. Time was on his side, even if the Void Sage ended up taking over the labyrinth. Reigan would gather his strength, and then see how Lindon Arelius could stand up to a true Monarch.

The stone door hadn’t even closed behind him before the leaders of the cults appeared before him. The Emissaries of Redmoon Hall who had been guarding the door had fallen to their knees as he appeared, but he didn’t glance at them, only looking to the Herald and Sages who appeared behind them.

The Blood Sage, Silent Sage, and Storm Sage arrived first, followed soon after by the Herald of Abyssal Palace.

To them, he presented a sealed silver box. “I have succeeded,” he said gravely.

All their eyes lit up at once. As well they should. This binding was the mythical item that their idols had sought since time immemorial.

“The enhancement field is functioning at full capacity,” Red Faith reported. “However, with Subject One removed, the hunger aura will exceed our containment at any time. I recommend we hurry.”

“We should,” Reigan agreed. “I will begin the process. One of you stand guard here.”