Then he heard a familiar shout from behind him, and he turned in place. From her knees, Yerin slapped her palm into the ground. “Bleed me! I was stone-certain I'd beaten you. How long have you been here?”
The arena rang with the sound of Yerin's name, and Lindon swelled with pride, but he answered modestly. “Only a few seconds. We practically finished together.”
As Lindon looked to one of the glowing golden lists hanging in the air and saw his name in tenth place and Yerin's in eleventh, he had to remind himself that this was only the first round. It was meant to test their flexibility and to weed out those who were fundamentally unfit for the rest of the tournament. It didn't necessarily reflect those who would win the fights later.
[And look who beat you!] Dross said.
Lindon's eyes crawled up to eighth place, where Mercy's name rested. It was still bizarre to think that she was more capable than he was, as he had mostly known her as a Lowgold, but she was a Monarch's daughter. That was to be expected.
Seated in a cycling position on the ground, Mercy leaned over to exchange excited whispers with Yerin.
Lindon didn't see Pride's name, which made the day seem even brighter.
[I wasn't talking about Mercy,] Dross said, just as Lindon looked up to check the top of the list.
Sopharanatoth, gold dragon team, the board said. First position.
He looked down, and Sophara once again had her red-hot gaze on him.
Lindon's mood sunk, but not too far. His earlier reasoning came back to him: this was only the first round. Just because she’d ranked higher didn't mean that there was an impossible gap between them.
The thought comforted him until he noticed the second name.
Sha Miara, Ninecloud Court team.
He felt as though he'd been speared through the chest. He had already seen the red-haired girl seated calmly nearby, ignoring those around her, but he hadn't given her another thought yet.
His eyes moved involuntarily to the Ninecloud Court viewing tower, a crystalline structure of Forged madra and delicate stained glass. Their Monarch platform was a jeweled palace resting on top of a rainbow-colored cloud.
There was no way they could sneak their Monarch into this competition. It wasn't possible. The other Monarchs wouldn't be deceived, and surely she would gain nothing from pretending to be an Underlady.
[That's not even the worst part!] Dross said cheerfully. [She's only in second place.]
Lindon calmed himself. He hadn't even known what a Monarch was when Suriel first showed him Sha Miara. He had obviously misunderstood the situation.
He had to be wrong.
~~~
Back in the amethyst spire where the entire Akura faction stayed, Yerin and Lindon visited a tablet library. The second round wouldn't start for another week, and participants were encouraged to examine the records of their competition. The entire first round had been recorded, and they found dream tablet recordings of many opponents from before the tournament started.
Together, Yerin and Lindon sat on a couch and watched as a sculpture of light showed them Sophara's performance. They watched all the way through the first round in silence, and when the illusion finally faded, they both remained quiet.
Finally, Dross spun out of Lindon's spirit and sat on his shoulder. [Good news! I can build a decent model of Sophara now. The bad news is that it will absolutely destroy you.]
Lindon wasn't surprised. If he hadn't sensed Sophara's spirit for himself, he would have assumed she was an Overlord.
She was physically stronger than Yerin, her dragon's breath came out faster than his, her techniques were smooth and precise, and she reacted so quickly that he wondered if her senses were as sharp as Eithan's. Watching her in the first round was almost hypnotic; she seemed to dance through each trial as though she'd known its contents in advance.
“At least you can train against a model,” Yerin said bitterly. “Let's see how I stack up.”
Lindon had explained Dross' models to Yerin months ago through the sound transmission construct. She'd been understandably jealous.
Yerin removed the dream tablet and replaced it in the projection construct with another they'd retrieved before: Yerin's own record of the first round.
Her weaknesses became apparent almost immediately.
“As long as it's not a fight, I'm as useless as feathers on a fish.”
She'd torn through every combat, but had struggled to deal with anything else.
“Good thing the rest of the competition is a series of fights,” Lindon said.
[As far as we know.]
Yerin sent out a sliver of madra and froze the image as a wave of sword aura devastated a line of Forged soldiers. “I wouldn't say no to a heavier weapon. I'm good enough against a batch of servants, but it'll take me a year and a day to cut through decent armor.”
The illusion skipped ahead to her battle against one of the large gray-skinned warriors, and she had to dance around it until she eventually brought it down with enough cuts.
Lindon scribbled down some thoughts on a scroll that he'd brought for just this purpose. “I need something to defend myself.” He blew on the ink. “Dross and I have been working on this. I brought the armor from the Skysworn and from the Seishen Kingdom, but armor is against the rules of the tournament.”
[Also, the Akura Soulsmith library is virtually empty of any relevant information,] Dross said. [Each of them has their own suit of armor built in.]
“That too,” Lindon admitted.
Yerin leaned forward to inspect Dross' round purple body. “You think you could run me through one of those models?”
[Maybe with some more of the Sage's madra. How about you ask her for more, Lindon?]
“She's already suspicious.” Lindon had asked for as many scales from Charity as he dared, but it had eventually become clear that she thought he was spending the scales. She was sure that his mind-spirit couldn't be processing the power so fast.
Yerin brushed hair away from her face. “I've got some things I want to try. I know my Path is worth more than this; my master placed fifth in the first round.”
She didn't sound too bothered, but Lindon could feel her disappointment. She'd let herself down in her own eyes.
His brush stopped, and he looked up at her. “If it was about where you started, I would never have caught up to you. The only thing that matters is where you end up.” He returned to the scroll. “And our paths don't end with this tournament.”
She didn't respond for so long that he stopped worrying about his notes and started worrying that he'd said something wrong. By the time he checked her expression, she’d sat down on the couch beside him again. Her hair hung down so that he couldn't see her face, but she sat closer to him than before.
[I think you've offended her,] Dross whispered into Lindon's mind. [Quick, throw yourself on the floor and beg forgiveness.]
Lindon swallowed. I don't think so, he responded, but before he could say anything to Yerin, rainbow light filled the room.
Both of them stood abruptly, staring into the ceiling from which the light streamed.
“Number ten, Wei Shi Lindon Arelius,” the Ninecloud Soul said, her voice warm. “I have come to deliver your prize for the first round and information about the second round. Yerin Arelius, would you please leave the room for a moment?”
The viewing-rooms were essentially private booths, so it would be easy for her to step outside, but Lindon bowed to the Ninecloud Soul. “Pardon, but if it isn't too much trouble, would you allow her to stay?”
“No trouble at all. I needed to speak to her next, so this only saves me time.” The rainbow light coalesced into an image floating in midair: a castle of blocks and mortar floating on a cloud. “As your reward for successfully passing the first round, our team of artisan Soulsmiths and architects will design for you a floating fortress according to your preferences.”