The Phoenix and the Titan weren’t leaving them alone out of the goodness of their hearts, either. They had backed away warily from the lineup of enemy Monarchs, standing closer to Reigan Shen and Sha Miara, and begun spreading their authority over the land.
Dirt raised into the air and stone quaked under the Titan’s influence.
At the same time, the Phoenix’s power stained the air. Blood began to coalesce and transform into humanoid puppet-figures.
Time was not on their side.
Yerin struggled visibly with her words, but finally flew off to join the others. Emriss had already begun a working centered on the Phoenix.
Which left Lindon hovering in midair and staring into the Wandering Titan’s eyes across a gulf of broken city.
The Wandering Titan glared back as though it had heard their plan. Perhaps it had.
Lindon remembered the deep, rumbling voice he’d heard when he’d first Consumed the Dreadgod’s memories. It stood opposite him now, lashing its tail lazily behind it. Its dark shell shone bright yellow from within, and stone flew up from the bones of the earth.
Guided by aura, chunks of metal and stone molded themselves into an impossibly huge sword.
Now, the Wandering Titan matched the legends Abyssal Palace told about its combat prowess. It looked the same as it did on the murals in the labyrinth.
Where it had been born. And where, in Suriel’s vision so long ago, Lindon had seen it wading through mountains to destroy his home.
In a way, it had succeeded.
Lindon rolled Suriel’s marble in his left hand, watching those memories. And remembering the Unsouled destined to be one of thousands crushed beneath the Dreadgod’s feet.
Now, a white halo hovered over Lindon’s head, and nine flying swords spread out behind him. Both made from the Dreadgods he’d killed.
Lindon wrenched his exhausted mind into motion once again. Tomorrow, he would add another weapon to his collection.
The Bleeding Phoenix let out a searing cry. That signaled the start of the battle.
As the collected Monarchs unleashed their techniques against the Phoenix, Lindon’s flying swords met the sword-swing of the Titan.
The fight against the Dreadgods ended today.
29
Furious though he still was, Reigan Shen had not bargained on facing down three additional Monarchs.
He and Sha Miara had been relegated to a support role, lurking behind the Phoenix and redirecting enemy attacks with portals and shining rainbow barriers, respectively.
“Listen to me,” Reigan said, voice low. “If we want to keep what we’ve built, we’re going to have to go into hiding. It’s that or ascend.”
Even covered by her rainbow-light disguise, Sha Miara’s motions were desperate. “We can reason with Emriss! She’ll listen!”
Reigan suspected that any reasoning between Emriss Silentborn and Sha Miara was going to result in one rainbow-colored young woman drifting up to the heavens. He had to prevent contact between them, or he would be the only one left on his side. Which was not a winning scenario.
He clenched the Wraith Horn in one hand. He couldn’t risk losing that anymore; it was his one lifeline. “Emriss hid herself closely, even from us. She’s been lying to you all your life.”
“My mother—”
“She lied to your mother too! And her mother! She was acting, do you understand?”
Reigan wrenched Yerin’s Moonlight Bridge to one side before she could use it in an ambush. Instead of appearing behind the Phoenix, she was sent miles away.
He wished he could control the Bridge precisely enough to send Yerin straight into the Phoenix’s beak—or, poetically, into the path of one of Lindon’s techniques—but the best he could do was to shove her aside.
Rainbow light blocked a spinning circle of Dawn Oath runes, causing the entire script to fall apart. “I understand, but what do we do?” Miara hesitated before adding, “Is ascending really so bad?”
Out of sheer frustration, Reigan wanted to claw the human girl’s head off.
He couldn’t, of course. He might win a battle against her, but it would be a drawn-out affair, and it certainly wasn’t something he could afford now. Emriss’ branches would be around his throat the second he turned his back.
“This is the world we worked for!” Reigan insisted. “We don’t owe it to anyone.”
Then again, the world Reigan had worked for was being torn apart beneath him.
Every step the Dreadgods took deeper into his continent destroyed his own resources. Buildings, forests, mines, natural treasures, workers, herds of prey. They were breaking his own empire by the second.
And, worse, they were losing.
The Eight-Man Empire assaulted the Bleeding Phoenix with a barrage of techniques almost as broad as the Dreadgod’s own. Striker techniques from the Phoenix crashed into barriers created by Ziel of the Dawnwing Sect and reinforced by the Shield Icon. Malice’s daughter had grown her armor to Dreadgod size and was trading physical blows with the Phoenix itself.
Blue-green leaves of Forged madra spread everywhere, each etched with an eye. Emriss watched from every one of them, spreading a perfect view of the battlefield. She couldn’t directly reverse injuries caused by the Dreadgods, but she wove life aura with expert precision, accelerating natural healing.
Bits of the Bleeding Phoenix sprayed off into the air. It was hard to see, given the composition of the semi-liquid Dreadgod, but Reigan could tell. Gradually, the Phoenix was getting smaller.
The enemies were winning. Given time, they would grind the Dreadgod down.
The Wandering Titan could break that stalemate. It was how the Dreadgods had operated in the past; threaten one, and the others would pounce on you and tear you to pieces.
But, in the worst news yet, the Titan’s clash against the Ghost was evenly matched. If the Wandering Titan had been losing, Reigan had thought he might be able to goad it into using its last moments to kill some Monarchs.
At this rate, Lindon’s battle wouldn’t conclude until after the Phoenix was already dead. And therefore Reigan too.
Bitterly, Reigan stopped projecting portals. While it burned his pride, he had to admit it: he’d lost. After all this time, he would have to give up. Now was the time to cut losses and run.
Miara’s royal madra covered the sky, stronger than ever, even seizing and redirecting one of Yerin’s deadly black-and-white Striker techniques. She was still hanging on. He had to give her credit for that.
“That’s enough,” Reigan said. He laid a hand on her shoulder. “We’ve—”
His spirit screamed a warning just before Yerin’s black-and-white slash crashed down on him like the swing of a heavenly scythe.
The attack had been carried by rainbow-colored madra.
All of Reigan’s emergency defenses and life-saving measures had been used up in the fight against Lindon, so his defense was purely instinctive. He called up King’s Key madra in a line in front of him, a razor-edged blade as thin as the side of a portal.
Yerin’s attack, strengthened by Sha Miara, split in a wave around him.
But he wasn’t unscathed.
The lethal authority in the attack shaved away at his lifeline and split open his skin. Blood splattered behind him.
He didn’t feel the pain. Only shock.
Sha Miara gazed at him, pitiless behind her rainbow mask. Without a word, she slashed him with a blade of royal madra.
He tried to raise his hand to block, only to find that his left arm was missing. Her technique passed through him, though it scarcely touched his body. His spirit, however, was split in half.
Emriss Silentborn seemed to stride out of nowhere on a half-ruined hillside nearby. “Well done, Miara. I know that was difficult, but he couldn’t be trusted.”
He was the one who couldn’t be trusted?