Wintersteel (Cradle Book 8), page 18
Lindon stayed well back.
Akura Fury drifted up, over his ship, and took a deep breath.
A moment later, his voice boomed out over the entire town.
“Hey everybody! Welcome to Sky’s Edge! Let’s remember why we’re here: we need to protect the survivors, clear out the dreadbeasts, secure the mine, and evacuate the citizens before the Titan wakes up.” He ticked off every point on his fingers.
“In a few days, we’ll be joined by Abyssal Palace, so then we’ll get to fight them too! Until then, the bounty system works like we discussed. It’s set up on the ship. If you don’t know your teams, find…”
The Herald scratched the back of his head. “…Justice? No, Justice is still at home. Well, you can find somebody to tell you. Oh, and don’t hurt your allies, okay? You can fight if you really want to, but make it an official duel with rules and everything. Abandoning a mission, fighting over bounties, or permanently injuring someone is a punishment. Kill anybody on our side or betray us, and I’ll kill you.”
He didn’t sound too upset about the idea. Fury crossed his arms and furrowed his brow, thinking for a moment. “Hmmm…I think that’s about it. Have fun!”
The tiny cloudship of the Seishen Kingdom stopped halfway as figures burst into flight around the Akura ship like bees fleeing a hive. Clouds, sacred beasts, Remnants, constructs, and techniques shot away from the large cloudship and headed to the ground, all carrying teams of sacred artists.
After enduring the wave of traffic, the Seishen king and his entourage continued toward the Herald.
But Fury vanished in a blur of motion.
Lindon only had time for a spike of alarm to go through his spirit before Akura Fury came to a stop in front of him, grinning, his red eyes bright.
The wind of his passage blew against Lindon in a powerful gust, carrying the stink of dreadbeasts and making the Herald’s shadowy hair whip wildly.
“Hey, Lindon! Did Charity bring you?”
Lindon pressed his fists together and bowed. “She did, and she suggested that she would be back to meet with you soon.”
“Oh, okay.” He didn’t sound like he cared whether Charity checked up on him or not. “Glad you could make it! We need to get you a team, let’s see…aha!”
There was a small cloudship nearby, designed for about ten people, with a purple cloud that was about to touch down to the ground.
Fury made a grasping motion, and a hand of shadow seized the ship and started dragging it backwards.
As it grew closer, Lindon’s heart sank.
At the control panel of the ship, with his head in his hands, was Akura Pride.
Six other Underlords rode the ship with him, and Lindon recognized them all. Akura Grace, like a younger version of Malice herself, stood behind Pride and held a hand on her curving single-edged sword. Two of her relatives waited in the back, the other members of the Akura backup team, as did the two women from the Frozen Blade School.
They both had tan skin, white-streaked black hair, and blue-and-white robes, and he couldn’t tell them apart. Their names were Maten Teia and Maten Kei, though Lindon had never really had a conversation with either of them, and he didn’t know if they were sisters or distant relatives that happened to look alike.
The final passenger was Naru Saeya, who would have been able to see over the heads of everyone else if she hadn’t sat herself on a bench at the very back of the deck. Her wings were retracted, she kept her eyes on the ground, and the peacock feathers over her ear drooped.
These were the participants from the Uncrowned King tournament.
“This is our best Underlord team!” Fury said proudly. “You guys are better than everybody else, but we need you for harder assignments, so it evens out. Lindon, you made it the farthest in the tournament, so you’re in charge now. Pride, you’re number two. Everybody else, just figure it out.”
Pride looked like he was trying to launch a Striker technique with his eyes.
Grace frowned slightly, the other two Akura family members seemed uncomfortable, the Frozen Blades muttered to one another, and Naru Saeya looked up from the deck.
All of them watched him.
[Would you like a reminder of how many times you’ve fought each person on that ship?] Dross asked.
I haven’t fought the Matens or Naru Saeya at all, Lindon responded. He was resolved to look on the positive side.
“Good luck, kids!” Fury said cheerfully. “Work hard!”
He left a miniature hurricane behind him as he leaped away again.
“Apologies,” Lindon said as soon as the Herald was gone.
“Get on the ship,” Pride snapped. “We’re wasting time.”
Lindon hopped on, and Pride immediately started piloting away. Lindon didn’t even know where they were going. “Pardon, everyone. I would never wish to contradict a Herald, but I don’t know that it’s appropriate for me to be in charge. I don’t even know what’s going on.”
Though he was very interested in the idea of bounties.
Pride looked to him in disgust. “What attitude is that? Raise your chin. Leading this team is an honor, and you should work to be worthy of it.”
He tossed something to Lindon. A viewing tablet with text written on it in light projected by internal constructs.
Lindon’s eyes widened when he read the words “Bounty Board.”
“Uncle Fury likes to make it a game,” Pride said. “Teams get contribution points for contributing to our cause here. There are no individual points. The team’s score is pooled together and the distribution of prizes is decided by the team’s leader.”
The stares from the rest of the team prickled him, but he didn’t look up.
The tablet recorded a list of bounties that could be claimed by each team.
Dreadbeast binding below Lord: 1 point
Dreadbeast binding, Lord-rank: 5 points
Assignment completion: 20 points
Natural treasures: 5 points minimum, subject to appraisal
Spoils of war: 10 points minimum, subject to appraisal
That explained the teams all around him, who were already flying around and hunting dreadbeasts. Lindon was even more pleased by the collection of hunger bindings he’d earned over the last day.
Then he saw the list of rewards.
Natural treasures ranged from four points to sixteen, depending on strength, and you could use points to purchase materials like scales, dead matter, simple constructs, and weapons. So far, so expected.
When he reached the end of the list, his heart started to pound.
Limited Stock:
Tears of the Mother Tree: 1500 points
Interior Command elixir: 1000
Gold Lion’s Heart pill: 1400
Low-grade void key (two available): 1250
High-grade void key: 1750
Diamond Veins: 2000
Divine Treasure – Thousand Swords of Binding Light: 2250
“…spent the last two weeks training together,” Pride was saying. “We saw your performance in the tournament, but whatever my uncle says, that’s no basis for command.”
Striker techniques were lighting up the rocky ground around Lindon. Every second, dreadbeasts died.
Points were being taken from his pocket. He had dreadbeast bindings in his void key, but not enough.
If he played this right, he could get these prizes.
He could get them all.
“Pride. One moment.”
The short Akura Underlord bristled, then took a step closer to Lindon. “You seem to have forgotten that I’m the one who—”
Lindon seized him, terror filling his words. “Every second we waste is another point gone. You understand? We’re losing points.”
This could be the greatest harvest he’d ever reaped in his life, and he had started late.
Pride tried to respond, but Lindon released him. “How many of you have Thousand-Mile Clouds?” They didn’t respond immediately, and desperate impatience clawed at his chest. “Your hands! Raise them!”
[I wish you could see how crazy you look right now,] Dross said. [I wish I could see it.]
Hesitantly, everyone but Naru Saeya and the two Frozen Blade women raised their hands.
Naru Saeya didn’t need one, but the other two would need to be able to fly to keep up. Lindon opened his void key, used wind aura to grab the bag of dreadbeast bindings, and tossed the sack to one of the Frozen Blades.
“Turn those in for points. There should be forty-six in there, and the lowest level clouds are twenty. Buy yourselves one each, then go hunting dreadbeasts with everyone else.”
Grace spoke up. “We need everyone for our current assignment.”
“No, we don’t.” There had been a memory embedded in the tablet explaining the details of their mission; Lindon was viewing it already. “Separate into teams of two, and…you two, please leave. Please. I’m begging you.”
The Frozen Blades looked at each other, shrugged, and hopped off the cloudship. Not nearly fast enough for Lindon’s taste. He wished he could loan them madra.
“Teams of two,” Lindon continued. “Pride, take Courage. Grace, take Douji. Go get another assignment each.” Akura Courage controlled a formation of six flying swords, so he should cover for Pride, who used only Enforcer techniques. Akura Douji was a lightning artist who had practiced extensively with Grace.
Lindon had fought them both several times apiece. In his head, he’d faced them hundreds of times. He knew exactly what they could do.
“If they won’t let you take one until our current mission is finished, then hunt dreadbeasts or Forge scales.” Scales couldn’t be exchanged for points, but they might be able to buy things that could be. “Naru Saeya and I will handle the assignment.”
Pride straightened. “This is a task they would normally assign to an Overlord. Don’t let your pride drag us down with you.”
Lindon seized him by the shoulders and shook him. “This is about points.”
Pride looked furious, but he left.
Lindon had already taken over the control panel, shoving his pure madra into the scripts until the cloudship blasted forward. Pride had been taking them closer to their mission, where he had surely intended to land and approach on foot, collecting dreadbeast bindings as they went.
The ship shot over treetops in a blur.
“They won’t like that,” Saeya predicted sourly. “Pride is well-named.”
Lindon’s void key had opened again, and he manipulated aura and extended strands of madra to flip open scripted boxes and pull out bindings and dead matter. “I know what they’re like. I’m sure they didn’t listen to a word you said the entire time you were with them, and that’s why you’re with me.”
Dross was working to supplement his concentration and his pure core was emptying like it had developed a leak as he assembled a construct and piloted the cloudship at the same time, so his attention was barely on his words as he spoke. “You also have the skills I need right now. You’re faster than they are, your perception extends farther, and your Path is perfect for rescue.”
He was as tightly focused as if his life was on the line, his objective all he could see.
Saeya blinked as she looked from him to the construct assembling itself behind him and back.
“You know, you should act like this more often,” she said. “Yerin would love it.”
Lindon wasn’t listening.
Soulsmith products could be purchased for points, which meant that they had Soulsmiths doing that work who must get paid, so he could take on Soulsmithing jobs as well. How many missions could his team complete per day? Two? How many dreadbeasts could they defeat? How many were there?
Saeya pointed him in the right direction, and soon he could see a red flame blazing from the side of another rocky fortress. This one didn’t have the hastily built look of the Seishen Kingdom’s construction, but was as big as a small town, and rose in layers like a cake. The red fire covered half of the structure without going out.
Over a hundred Gold dreadbeasts tore at the sides of the fortress, opposed by sacred artists inside, but it was another humanoid dreadbeast that provided the real threat.
This fat, rotting, man-like creature opened its jaws and spewed red flames across the fortress wall. They splattered like liquid, some fires extinguishing but others burning on.
This creature gave off the pressure of an Underlord. At least. It was hard to rate dreadbeasts like sacred artists, but Lindon wouldn’t be surprised if someone were to compare this specimen to a weak Overlord.
The mission parameters were to rescue a few key members of the sect who had made this fortress their home. Any further sacred artists rescued would mean bonus points, but the situation was more complicated than it seemed on the surface.
A protective script covered the outer wall of the fortress, which was why the Overlord dreadbeast hadn’t killed everyone yet. Neither the fire nor the army of monsters had penetrated the outer wall of the fortress yet, but they would soon.
If he engaged the Overlord in battle, the Golds would make it impossible to win quickly. Already flying dreadbeasts were diving to attack their ship.
Their full team of eight would have surely swept this battlefield clean with minimal risk, but their safest options would have also taken the longest.
Lindon’s dead matter was all in place, and he let the cloudship’s speed fall, devoting himself to Soulsmithing. Every piece of the construct floated in his pure madra, and he Forged them without tools, shaping them according to the image in his mind.
Each binding shone in his spirit like a star, and Dross’ calculations prevented the slightest mistake.
The Spear of the Summer King went opposite the red dragon’s breath.
The Storm Lotus opposed the Titan-Slayer Axe, and the Grave’s Last Word matched against the Bloodwash Wave.
All six Striker techniques reacted with one another, sending off sparks of many colors, settling into an equilibrium with the other bindings, the dead matter, and his own madra. It was Soulsmithing that should have taken weeks of testing, measuring, and planning.
The launcher construct settled into his hands as the fat dreadbeast turned to face him, roaring. Red flame gathered at the back of its throat.
Lindon leveled his newborn cannon and fired.
A lance of blinding light slammed into the creature’s belly, carving out a chunk of flesh. The giant gave a pained roar, and this time its hands glowed red as well. A more complicated technique, easily powerful enough to reduce their cloudship to splinters.
Bat-like dreadbeasts screeched as they dove for him, but he gave them no attention. Naru Saeya met them with wind in one hand and a rainbow sword in the other.
Lindon forced his spirit through the cannon, pushing out another shot before the weapon had been given a chance to recover from the last one.
The giant’s head exploded. Burning, rotten flesh sprayed across the stony landscape as the dreadbeast toppled.
Lindon’s construct broke apart, and he tossed it aside, trying not to calculate how many points its materials would have been worth.
Saeya had rid herself of two flying dreadbeasts, but was flying circles around two more, harrying them with her weapon and techniques.
Lindon took them out with dragon’s breath.
The Naru woman hovered down to him as his cloudship slowly came to a stop over the fortress. She looked shocked as she surveyed the dead Lord-stage beast. Rotten blood had splattered across her outer robe.
But she roused herself quickly. “I’m heading inside.”
Lindon tossed her another construct, one that he’d prepared beforehand. “Break this if you need help. I’ll clean up out here.”
She nodded and shot down, stopping to identify herself to the defenders on the wall and convince them to let her through their protective script.
Lindon dropped to the ground himself, switching to Blackflame as he fell. The Burning Cloak ignited, dragon’s breath formed in his hand, and Wavedancer flew from his void key.
The flying sword, beautifully crafted from the blues and greens of wind and waves, responded eagerly to his will.
He landed with a squelch on the ruined dreadbeast and laid waste to the army around him.
The Archlord flying sword sliced Truegold dreadbeasts in half with a single swing, as did the thin bars of Blackflame he sent slashing out.
At the same time, he tapped into his soulfire, using the blood aura in the giant’s body to pull apart the flesh in its chest. Meat and tendons tore away from the binding he sensed near its heart.
Hurry, Lindon thought. I have to hurry.
If even one prize escaped his grasp, he was going to weep blood.
10
Eithan waded through an ashen maze of jagged walls that were all that remained of his homeland.
He doubted he had ever stood in this particular building before, but even if he had, there would be no way to tell now. The earth had shifted and the sky rained living lightning, until what was left was unrecognizable.
The layer of ash only remained now, eight years later, because of the endless destruction aura that enveloped the whole continent. If he were to open his aura sight, he would see a black shadow clinging to every other color. His outer robes and the tips of his hair would slowly dissolve, if he let them.
He stopped in the shadow of the largest chunk of wall still standing, gazing through an empty window down a row of shattered homes. He tried to use that image, to let it remind him of the consequences of his own bad decisions, but it was too late. That wound was too old and too deep. Nothing he could do today would bring feeling back to that scar.
The people who had died here had belonged to House Arelius. Once, losing family had evoked great passion in him.
Time had dulled that edge. So had knowledge. He didn’t need vengeance, he needed the power to change a system that had broken long before he was born.
Though he was oddly pleased to feel an ember of fury stoke to life as he saw the man approaching him from behind.
