Eithan sent one more pulse of pure madra into the device in his pocket: a stopwatch.
Nine seconds.
Longer than he’d thought. Maybe he’d wasted too much time after all.
Lindon and Yerin watched the fight from the Akura audience platform. A haze of shadow hid them from the outside, though from this side it was like watching through a thin gray mist.
Mercy was with Fury, Pride, Charity, and the other core members of her family somewhere on the floating mountain over their heads, and Lindon found himself wishing he could see their reactions.
The surrounding crowd cheered enthusiastically but with restraint, as though they wished to go wild but considered themselves too refined.
Only Lindon and Yerin were silent.
“V-victory,” the Ninecloud Soul announced. She sounded either hesitant or horrified. Probably both.
“Bleed me dry,” Yerin whispered.
In addition to knowing Sha Miara’s true identity, they had seen recordings of Sha Miara’s previous performance. She was supposed to have been guaranteed a spot among the Uncrowned.
Was this what pure madra could do?
Lindon’s mind was already itching to dissect the fight one moment at a time.
[That was a little slow, don’t you think?] Dross asked him.
“Slow?”
[We could have done it faster.]
A puzzle piece clicked into place for Lindon. Eithan had fought like Lindon did with one of Dross’ combat solutions: as though he could see moves before they happened.
But, for Lindon, sometimes that wasn’t enough. Sometimes moving perfectly couldn’t erase the sheer difference in strength, or speed, or spiritual power.
So what could?
He chewed on that problem as the crowds in most of the other viewing platforms roared, excited to have seen a one-sided beatdown, but their cheers didn’t matter. They didn’t know who Sha Miara really was.
The only opinions that mattered were those in the Monarch platforms overhead.
Charity applauded a handful of times, mindful of her dignity, as she watched on the viewing tablet. A few of the other members of the Akura head family expressed more excitement than she could show, given her position, though she was quite pleased herself.
Her first selection from the vassal factions had always been Eithan Arelius, the Underlord that had once caught even Malice’s eye. He had reached the peak of Underlord at a young age, ready to advance to Overlord as soon as he discovered the revelation that would trigger his transformation.
On top of which, he had the legendary Arelius bloodline legacy and a great deal of personal skill. If only he didn’t have that personality, he would be a perfect sacred artist.
She glanced over to her father, to see how he’d taken the results.
He was sitting on the edge of his chair, holding his own viewing tablet an inch from his red eyes. “Mercy,” he asked, “we can’t let this guy go back to House Arelius. I can’t believe I almost missed this match.”
They were supposed to have departed that morning, but Fury had delayed their departure at the last minute in order to watch the day’s fight. Pride had given up his chance to spectate to help prepare the Akura family cloudship.
Mercy didn’t look as excited as Charity had expected. She seemed disturbed. “Is the Ninecloud Court going to…do something to Eithan?”
“They can’t admit who he beat. And they can’t provoke the Abidan either.”
“What are you concerned about?” Charity asked. Clearly, there was something going on here that she had not been privy to.
Perhaps they were referring to Sha Miara’s identity as a direct descendant of Sha Leiala, but Charity had worked that one out on her own.
Fury waved a hand. “Oh right, I forgot to tell you. Sha Miara is their Monarch.”
Charity gave that a moment to sink in.
Her father had known this the entire time.
And he hadn’t told her.
With a wave of her hand and an exercise of will, she dropped him into a portal of absolute darkness.
It came out five thousand feet in the air, somewhere over the Ninecloud countryside. She hadn’t been precise with her coordinates, and working without a spoken command tended to be more difficult.
He would fly back easily enough, but at least now he might remember her irritation and consider her feelings next time.
Mercy raised a hand as though waiting for permission to speak. “Um…Aunt Charity…what does this mean?”
The cool spirit of the Heart Sage had already returned. “It means that we may have better chances in this contest than we feared.”
Veris Arelius clutched the railing of her viewing platform and stared out at Eithan.
“We have to bring him home!”
Her cousin, Altavian, grunted. “You think we can offer him more than the Akura Monarch?”
“If he can beat the Ninecloud champion so easily, then he’s a peak Underlord. With talent like that, he might reach Archlord inside twenty years. He could be our next Sage!”
She was already dreaming of everything they could do with an Arelius Uncrowned. The notoriety alone would improve their relationships with other factions, and as a powerful Lord, he could help them secure more of their old territory.
With him, they soon wouldn’t have to bow to anyone under Sage. Even if he lost his next match, House Arelius couldn’t afford to throw away anyone with such talent in their bloodline legacy.
But with his talents combined with his bloodline skills…
Altavian sighed. “He says he’ll help us. We have no choice but to trust him.”
Veris ground her teeth.
When Naru Saeya picked up her jaw, she started crafting a message to her brother.
Two of the eight Uncrowned were going to be Blackflame Underlords.
If Huan didn’t know how to leverage that into an advantage, he wouldn’t be the Emperor. Besides that, she wished she could see his face when he viewed the dream tablet and saw what Eithan had done to the best young Underlord in the Ninecloud Court.
Then again…maybe he wouldn’t be too surprised.
Reigan Shen swirled wine in his goblet and thought.
He was the only one in this room of his private platform. The platform itself was a miniature marble palace, and the other chambers were filled with servants and revelers, but he watched the fights alone.
Especially this one.
Eithan probably didn’t know it, but Reigan remembered him. Eithan had been an advisor of Tiberian’s, in the last days. One of those who had pointed Tiberian toward the Dreadgods, and who had allowed Reigan to strike the fatal blow.
One might say that, in some twisted way, Reigan owed Eithan a debt.
And now he had proven himself an obstacle. Someone capable of defeating Sha Miara could potentially beat Sopharanatoth or Yan Shoumei.
He might claim Penance.
A wide wall of gold curved behind Reigan Shen, displaying his treasured weapons. Priceless works of art, and most could be considered the peak of Soulsmith craftsmanship.
Not as devastating as the ones he kept in his King’s Key, but deadly and beautiful, every one of them.
Penance was destined to be the crown jewel of Shen’s collection, and he didn’t intend to use it at all. There was usually far more value in the threat of a weapon than in the weapon itself.
Besides, if Eithan got his hands on the arrowhead, he would use it on Reigan Shen.
Eithan was under Malice’s protection, not to mention Northstrider’s, so Reigan couldn’t threaten him directly. He would have held the remainder of House Arelius hostage to ensure Eithan’s withdrawal from the competition, but the heavens had removed that option.
Still, he had others.
Every man had his price.