Reigan himself had intended to join the fight, but he had the sharp and uncomfortable premonition that Lindon was waiting for that.
Not only was there little room to intervene without risking a hit, Reigan felt something suspicious about the way Lindon fought.
Here and there, Lindon’s spiritual sense flickered closer to Reigan. His eyes would pass that direction for just a moment as he flew to dodge a Dreadgod’s attack.
Reigan Shen knew he was under observation.
Centuries of instinct warned him not to make a move. That could have been a trick. Perhaps the Silent King’s Crown allowed Lindon to intimidate Monarchs without being detected, but Reigan didn’t think so. This was likely just his gut warning him that if he intervened in the battle, Lindon would find a way to crush him between Dreadgods.
Unfortunately, his gut was also warning him of something worse.
The Dreadgods couldn’t travel through space very far, not without a great expenditure of resources or tools like the Wraith Horn, but they had grown faster as they grew in intelligence and power. In a fight like this one, even the Wandering Titan was an earth-shaking blur.
Or, in this case, an ocean-churning blur.
Their battle covered miles every second, as Lindon and the Bleeding Phoenix lit up the clouds with their techniques while the Wandering Titan dashed along and provided heavy hits from below. They were now far from the mainland of the Iceflower continent and still moving quickly.
Toward Rosegold.
Reigan’s home.
The distance between continents was not negligible, even taking into account direct spatial transportation, but Rosegold and Iceflower were closer than most. Once, they had been linked.
Crossing the ocean between them was still a significant journey, but Lindon and the Dreadgods could cover a lot of ground. And it wasn’t unusual for Dreadgod battles to last for days.
Before tomorrow, they would hit the coast of Rosegold. At that point, every punch they traded would be a loss for Reigan Shen.
Reigan triggered a messenger construct to contact one of his few remaining allies. “Miara. The Ghost is dragging the Phoenix and the Titan closer to Rosegold. Help me redirect them north.”
The construct flickered away, through space, though it would be at least a few minutes before Sha Miara could respond. They were far from Ninecloud City.
While this stretch of ocean was uninhabited, thanks to vicious water-spirits that didn’t seem quite so vicious in light of the battle tearing apart their territory, the seas to the north and south had cities and nations of their own.
But the one to the south owed its allegiance to Reigan Shen, while the one to the north did not.
If it came to a choice between giving up his own people and driving the Dreadgods north…well, he wasn’t responsible for them. It was the best he could manage.
In the meantime, maybe he could drive this fight by himself.
He clutched the Wraith Horn in one hand and contacted the Bleeding Phoenix. She seemed more amenable to negotiation than the blank wall of stone that was the Wandering Titan.
“We can’t head east or south! That’s my territory. We need to take the battle north.”
It was a few seconds of sky-rattling battle before a bubble of blood madra appeared next to his ear. It warped into a mouth, which whispered: “Why should we waste our energy changing course? We’re grinding our little brother down.”
“That’s my territory.”
“Until the Weeping Dragon returns. Then, it will be his. Why would he notice a missing country or two?”
The bubble popped, splattering blood madra all over Reigan Shen’s face.
He wiped it away, letting the madra burn to essence, and that insult cracked his fear just a little further.
Lindon had already humiliated him once. He was looking down on Monarchs, and had snatched prey from Reigan’s mouth. The entire world had seen how Reigan Shen did all the work for a human boy to reap the benefits.
Then, the world had literally watched as Tiberian’s Underlord advisor had revealed himself to be a world-destroying threat.
Reigan’s fear had far outweighed his anger, but that didn’t mean that he had forgotten his pride. Eithan had been laughing at him behind his back for years. Lindon had learned from his master. Now, even the Dreadgods—the rampaging beasts that Reigan had corralled like rabid dogs for so many years—were spitting in his face.
Reigan Shen had been made the butt of the joke too many times.
He was not a housecat. He was a lion.
A king.
The time had come to act like it.
[Wow, who pulled his tail? There’s a change in Reigan Shen, so watch out.] Dross highlighted the Monarch in Lindon’s vision.
Lindon was Consuming the energy from a meteor the Titan had condensed from earth aura and hurled at him. At the same time, he was striking against the Titan’s tail with flying swords, hitting its building-sized punch with his own human-sized one, keeping the Phoenix at bay with sweeps of dragon’s breath, and wrestling for aura control over a ten-mile area. All while flying and switching between cores.
Reigan Shen was not a welcome addition. There was a limit to how much Lindon could juggle.
Still, as threats went, Shen was not at the top of Lindon’s list.
Dross’ alarm flared as the Monarch opened a gate to the spear he’d used to attack Sacred Valley before. Lindon had thought that weapon had been destroyed by Ozmanthus, but obviously he’d been wrong.
“Close!” Lindon ordered the King’s Key portal.
Reigan’s will only kept the gate wobbling for a second or two before it was crushed beneath Lindon’s working.
That would slow him down for a while, but Lindon paid a price for it.
One of the Phoenix’s techniques—a hammer-blow of blood and force madra—slammed into Lindon from above. It launched him into the sea like a falling star, and water from the impact blasted into the clouds.
Before he could collect himself, the Titan was stomping a foot down on him.
[Soul Cloak,] Dross suggested, and Lindon agreed.
Blue-white madra flared around him, seeming almost solid now. He caught the Titan’s foot in both hands.
Which was a bit like saying he’d stopped a collapsing roof with a toothpick. Nonetheless, he did it. The air twisted around him as he flew up, shoving the Titan’s foot above him.
The Wandering Titan stumbled and caught its balance with its tail.
Lindon had been trying to shove the Dreadgod onto its back, but the Phoenix sent a flurry of needles his way. Each needle was bigger than his arm and contained enough power to destroy a fortress, and the Bleeding Phoenix was sending him ten thousand.
He had to drop the Titan and expand the Hollow Domain to deal with those. Even then, the needles weren’t wiped out until he finished them with an Empty Palm that blotted out the sun.
Lindon remembered slamming the Empty Palm into an Iron’s stomach to win a duel.
It had failed him against Li Markuth, the so-called Gold that had come from beyond the world.
It was his first, oldest technique.
Now he was using it against Dreadgods.
[Look how far you’ve come,] Dross said wistfully. [Now, this is going to be the end of the line, unless someone else has something up their sleeves.]
Lindon was fighting with everything on the line. He was stretching his techniques beyond their limits and had made every weapon he could. This was as far as he could go.
And, if things continued this way, he would eventually lose.
That was inevitable.
No matter how vast his reserves, no matter how much he replenished himself in the middle of the fight with his right arm, his opponents could do the same.
Lindon’s only chance of survival was to buy enough time for the others to come through. But his real goal was to take one of the Dreadgods down.
If he did that, he could call it a victory whether he survived or not.