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Naru Saeya took deep breaths, clearly fighting down her frustration. “We need to be familiar with each other if we're going to fight side-by-side. Maybe we should spar together against another pair of Underlords.”

“Cheers and celebration, you've struck gold. I'll sit here and polish my sword while you find another pair of Underlords who can match us.”

The Blackflame Empire had doubled its number of Underlords during the competition in the Night Wheel Valley, but over the last few weeks, Yerin had found out firsthand that most of the newly advanced Lords and Ladies weren't much to her. If she held back everything from her Path, they weren't her match in swordsmanship. The gap only widened with madra.

The only young Underlords worth anything to Yerin had been stolen by Akura Charity.

The older Underlords would be a real challenge, but they had one and all left the capital to deal with their own responsibilities. They had been gone for too long during the qualification fights, and now they had to make up for lost time.

As far as Yerin knew, only two people left in the city could challenge her or Naru Saeya. One was the Emperor, who was busy signing laws and looking stern. The other was Eithan, and only the heavens knew where he had vanished to.

Naru Gwei had dumped Yerin and Eithan out of Stormrock at the first possible opportunity and had suggested that he wouldn't come close to Eithan ever again without an Imperial command.

“We fight for the honor of the Empire,” Saeya said, “but we can't sacrifice the stability of the Empire for the honor of the Empire. This is our problem to solve.” She didn't sound happy about it. She stared out the window overlooking Blackflame City, glaring at the buildings below as though they were holding her back.

“Then let's stop fighting like Coppers.” Yerin tossed her iron bar aside, too. She walked over to the corner, where she had propped her master's sheathed blade. “We gather up every Underlord and Truegold we can get our hands on and face them all at once. Pile on enough straws, and eventually we'll feel the weight.”

Saeya let out a long breath. “You're right, we should. It's important that we get you more experience against different opponents.”

“If you had so much more experience than me, you'd be too old for the tournament.”

“There's a big difference between thirty-five and...what are you, twenty?” The tall woman eyed Yerin.

Yerin herself wasn't sure how old she was, but twenty had to be about right. “Thought you had to be under thirty-five.”

“As long as you haven't begun your thirty-sixth year by the time the tournament begins, you're eligible,” Saeya said. “I qualify by less than a month. That's the human standard, of course. Some sacred beasts can be almost—”

Saeya stopped. She turned from the window in a way that Yerin recognized: she had sensed something.

Yerin extended her own senses, feeling a growing shadow in the next room. It was cold and dark, like the air of the Night Wheel Valley leaking into Blackflame City.

“Akura clan likes to take their time,” Yerin muttered. They had been promised training support from the Akura Sage, and this must be it.

She strode forward, joined by Naru Saeya, throwing open the doors to the hallway outside their training room. An ornate chest of black wood sat on the crimson rug, emanating darkness. Its lid shone with the moon-pale image of a mountain range topped by three stars—the symbol of the Akura family.

A shiver passed through Yerin's spirit as a construct in the box scanned first her, then Naru Saeya.

Confirming their presence, the box opened, its lid slithering apart.

The sense of spiritual power within blinded Yerin's eyes and her perception at once, but it instantly improved her mood. The Akura clan lived up to their reputation if they were sending gifts that felt like this .

Saeya's expression had softened into something that looked like awe. “We'll have to track Eithan down to give him his share,” she said absently.

“I'd bet a sackful of gems against two hairs that he's standing around a corner waiting to pop out.” Yerin knelt to pick up the box.

When Yerin straightened, Saeya had turned all the way around to stare into the training room they had just come from. “No...he's climbing up the side of the tower to slip in through the window.”

“Counts as a corner,” Yerin said, carrying the chest back through the door.

As Naru Saeya went to the window to look down, Yerin settled on her knees in the center of the room, rummaging through the box. It was divided neatly in three, and from the feel of each section alone, she could tell which section belonged to each of them.

Small, narrow tubes leaked sword-madra, certainly containing scales intended for Yerin. A series of stones next to them would be dream tablets, and that was it for her. Scales and dream tablets, though the tablets looked a little strange, polished and cut like gemstones. Maybe that was how the Akura family preferred them.

The partition next to hers contained Saeya's share: more scales and dream tablets, as well as a small scroll with a wing on it. Eithan's section had no tablets, only scales of pure madra and a pile of books and letters.

Naru Saeya had clearly lost patience waiting for Eithan to climb up. With wind madra, she reached over the side. Eithan came drifting up, bundled in green-tinged air, hanging like a doll in invisible hands. His long blond hair dangled, and he was breathing heavily, but his smile didn't suffer.

“Good evening, ladies!” he said. “I was trying to surprise you, but I'm afraid climbing up a smooth wall using only my fingertips was more tiring than I assumed. You know, this tower is very tall.”

Saeya dumped him onto his feet, heading toward the box, but she kept her eyes on him. “You're not hurt, are you?”

“Only my pride.” Eithan stretched and knuckled his back. “And also the skin of my fingers.”

Naru Saeya brightened when she reached the box. “Top-grade scales! Before the Night Wheel Valley, those alone would have been worth more than everything I owned.”

With both hands, she picked up a jeweled dream tablet, her eyes glazing over as she sunk into it. Eagerly, Yerin started to do the same.

Eithan extended a hand, stopping her. “Don't be too eager. One of those is a sound transmission construct, perhaps for Akura Charity to contact you. The rest are training courses, sent under the assumption that we wouldn't have any worthy opponents to train against here in the Empire.”

“We don't,” Yerin said. Despite Eithan's words, her excitement for the tablets had just gone up.

“Don't we? What did you learn by training against Saeya?”

Yerin's fingers were still itching to pick up one of the tablets, but Eithan had a purpose for asking questions like this. Usually. And he hadn't touched his own pile of books.

She noticed they hadn't sent him any training courses.

“I need a better answer to fast feet and good eyes,” Yerin said. “Same thing as when I'm fighting you. If I can trap them in with the Endless Sword and stop them from running around like a newborn rabbit, I'll win. If they slip past me and land a hit, I'm dead.”

“And how would you solve that problem, if the heavens granted you one almighty wish?”

She nodded to him. “I'd take your ability. Eyes of my own give me a better chance to move. Or I'd ask the heavens to make me faster than any sacred artist living. But since that's nothing but dreams and shadows, I can double up the Endless Sword with the Shadow.” She still grimaced and felt a pang of revulsion whenever she mentioned using the Blood Shadow. “Cover more ground, give them less space to run.”

Eithan stroked his chin. “Would you like my help?”

That was typical of Eithan, leaving her with a fake choice. Of course the only correct answer was yes; how could she turn down training before a tournament in front of the entire world? Her master never would have.