Even considering the ability of the Void Icon to shroud possible futures, that was a reassuring analysis. Northstrider had utmost confidence in his oracle codex.
In the end, Dross was a spirit. His codex was a weapon, optimized for performance. Even considering Dross’ flexibility, a head-to-head contest between the two would have favorable results more often than not.
Northstrider showed none of his thoughts on his face or in his spirit, and the calculations of his codex took no time. He waited a moment longer, as though pondering, as his codex gave him the oath he needed to swear.
“I will swear to duel you,” he said at last. “But we fight to death, surrender, or the arrival of the Weeping Dragon. I will not call for or allow any outside assistance, if you swear the same. But that must include the labyrinth.”
Malice turned to him with shock that he was sure was feigned. She knew Northstrider well enough to realize that if he accepted seemingly unfavorable conditions, he had a trick left.
Lindon also tried to give nothing away, but there was a faint twitching in his face that the codex interpreted as suppressed relief. His eyes flickered slightly, as though he wanted to look to the Weeping Dragon and check how much time was left.
He believes these conditions favor him, the codex said. He will propose that you and Malice must back away from Sacred Valley if he wins.
“Prizes,” Lindon said. “The winner should get something.”
“Your bow,” Northstrider said immediately. The real prize would be Lindon’s defeat, at which point Northstrider could take whatever he wanted, but he would clearly establish what was on the line in case their duel was interrupted by the Weeping Dragon.
The Silent King Bow was the most powerful object Lindon owned that he could feasibly transfer as a prize. Northstrider would rather have the labyrinth or Dross, but Lindon couldn’t hand those over so easily.
“My daughter,” Malice added.
Lindon and Northstrider turned to her, and Northstrider was sure they both felt the same irritation. Malice gave a shameless smile. “You need me to agree as well, don’t you?”
Lindon won’t make that bet, the oracle codex predicted.
“I will not turn Mercy over,” Lindon said. “But I will separate her from the Book of Eternal Night and return that to you.”
Northstrider didn’t give anything away, but that surprised him. The oracle codex absorbed this new information and added it to Lindon’s model.
Malice’s smile gained an ugly shadow, but she gave a brief nod.
“However, if I have to pay out twice, so do you. If I win, you both return to Moongrave until the Weeping Dragon is defeated or I am.”
“To a maximum of three days,” Northstrider added, before the oracle codex had a chance to add it in. He wasn’t going to be trapped in one city because of a loophole in an oath, nor was he going to let Lindon drag him into a week-long battle. Not that he expected Lindon to want such a thing, but he had endured such fights before.
“Agreed.” Lindon extended his right hand. “Shake on it?”
Northstrider gave the Dreadgod arm a disgusted look.
Lindon shrugged. “Apologies. I do so swear upon my soul to abide to the conditions in good faith.”
“I swear,” Northstrider and Malice said at the same time.
Then Malice faded into shadow as the clash between Northstrider’s fist and Lindon’s shattered space.
Lindon was blasted down and away from Sacred Valley like a meteorite, as Northstrider intended. However advanced Lindon was, a Sage couldn’t keep up with a Monarch who had manifested the Strength Icon, though of course his Dreadgod arm didn’t break under the impact.
Northstrider stayed on him, tearing through the air. His oracle codex gave him two possibilities: Lindon would either launch Striker techniques to create more space even as he flew backward, or he would begin building up power for a larger strike.
It was the latter. Blackflame gathered around his left hand, condensing and Forging into the tips of claws.
That had been a mistake. The strength of a thousand dragons flowed through the Enforcer technique Northstrider funneled into his fists, until his punch was surrounded by a transparent, blood-red dragon.
Lindon was already moving to dodge, as the oracle codex couldn’t surpass Dross’ predictive ability enough to allow him to land a clean hit.
So Northstrider relied on his own authority. He was the superior here. His words should be obeyed. All bowed before him, including Lindon.
That certainty resonated with the Strength Icon and with the Dragon Icon. Only the strongest reigned, and he was the strongest.
It lent weight to his command when he ordered Lindon to “Stop.”
Lindon shivered as he struggled against the working of authority, and his will was anything but weak. Even so, he had to spend a split-second of his attention resisting. His Dreadgod hand started to Consume the energy radiating off Northstrider, but those sips of power wouldn’t be enough to help him.
Carrying enough force to crack mountains, Northstrider’s punch landed on Lindon’s ribs.
By all rights, a direct hit from Northstrider should have disintegrated a Sage. His oracle codex told him what to expect from Lindon, though. Not only had his flesh been partially integrated with a Dreadgod’s, but he’d used that very arm to feed on the vitality and blood essence of the Wandering Titan and the Silent King.
He wouldn’t be torn to pieces…but he wouldn’t be unscathed. Sure enough, Northstrider felt ribs shattering under the impact, and Lindon’s new black-and-white eyes widened in shock and pain. Before he shot away—into the sky, this time—he coughed up blood.
That was more satisfying than Northstrider had expected.
The oracle codex predicted Lindon’s retaliation: a fully empowered Hollow Domain to create space while he healed. When blue-white madra exploded into a sphere around Lindon, Northstrider tore through the technique with the help of a Forged dragon, slicing his way closer.
Lindon ducked him and Consumed the Forger technique, but that created an opening for Northstrider to kick him in the back. His spine cracked while Northstrider’s blood-and-hunger madra ravaged him internally.
Why is he using Consume so recklessly? Northstrider asked. This was at least the second time that Lindon had shown him a gap so that he could Consume some power, but the Void Sage had lost out wildly in both exchanges. He would need more power than he stole just to fuel his Bloodforged Iron body.
The oracle codex had an instant answer, of course. Lindon was aiming to establish authority over hunger. If he could make such a command with Northstrider’s madra in him, it would be more effective.
Neither Northstrider nor the codex could think of another explanation, especially since Lindon was still concentrating madra in his left hand. His hand was gloved in Forged madra and was starting to trail fire and destruction aura.
Northstrider sent Striker techniques thundering after Lindon, and he felt a faint regret. No matter how many unique advantages Lindon had, inexperience would always show itself. Lindon was clinging to what he saw as his one chance of winning: creating an opening with hunger authority and then finishing Northstrider off with The Dragon Descends.
Even if that would work, Lindon would take too much of a beating while setting up. An experienced opponent would know that.
Northstrider’s regret turned to anger. If Lindon hadn’t let his identity as the Destroyer’s apprentice go to his head, he wouldn’t have challenged the Monarchs, and then he might have been a great asset. Even a disciple to Northstrider himself.
Instead, Northstrider was going to break him here. He would teach a lesson that Lindon would be lucky to survive.
The next few seconds were a farce of a battle. Lindon sent black dragon’s breath thundering through the air, of a power Northstrider hadn’t seen since he’d last slain a black dragon Herald. The boy slipped aside from some of Northstrider’s attacks, no doubt guided by Dross’ predictions. He broke or endured several techniques, Consuming breaths of power and will from them.