Dreadgod (Cradle Book 11) (103)

Condensed destructive energy slammed into his body. A Forged claw of Blackflame madra combined with an Enforcer technique and a huge comet’s tail of fire and destruction madra. Memories he’d stolen from Lindon gave him the technique’s name: The Dragon Descends.

It certainly resembled a black, serpentine dragon diving into the ground. In the moments before it detonated into a dark star.

Even immortal and perfect as the Dreadgod was, that hurt.

The ground for miles had already been ravaged and torn, but now the land was blighted even further. Black fire annihilated the hill the Silent King had been standing on and blasted down to burn a crater in solid stone. A chunk of the Dreadgod’s side was seared away, and even its left eye was singed.

But its fury blazed hotter than any flame.

The Silent King reached deep into its spirit and roared, resonating with its hunger. Whether it died or not, its brothers would devour every living soul on this continent. A ripple shot out from the Dreadgod, seeking sympathetic resonance with hunger madra.

The Silent King called for more Dreadgods.

It ran into the first one an inch from his throat. And there the call stopped.

White fingers sank into the skin of the tiger’s neck and began to Consume. For the first time in centuries, fear shivered through the Silent King.

He had known the arm of the Slumbering Wraith could threaten its existence. That was one of the reasons why he had tried to recruit Lindon.

But it could eat a call for help? Had Subject One always had that ability?

How had he not seen that in the future? These possibilities must have been hidden, cut from the list of possible outcomes.

Cut. Snipped away.

Almost…pruned.

See you next time, Emriss Silentborn whispered into the Dreadgod’s mind.

But the Silent King hadn’t given up yet. He snarled and swept his paw at the tiny human that dared to seize him by the throat.

An oversized, blue-white palm strike of pure madra landed on his huge chest. Lindon’s Empty Palm.

Unpowered by madra, the Silent King’s paw hit Lindon’s side with the force of a housecat. The King looked into the empty eyes of the Void Sage and thought that having some more physical power might not be so bad.

Next time, when it returned for revenge.





18





Lindon Consumed the Silent King. He stole his own memories back. He stole the dream essence that had been missing from his mind.

Then he kept stealing.

His arm was hungry, it was burning with greed, and it didn’t crack under the weight of the Silent King’s power. In fact, it had room to spare.

Lindon would have buckled under the Dreadgod’s will, but he had help. Emriss Silentborn took on the lion’s share of the burden, and Dross kept him from collapsing. Not to mention the other Monarchs, who had been wrestling against workings of the Silent King until moments ago.

Dross interrupted Lindon’s thoughts. [Tiger’s share. Reigan Shen is a lion, but this is a tiger. She’s taking on the tiger’s share of the burden, if you want to be technical. Which I do.]

Lindon’s spirit was at its limit swallowing so much of the King’s power, and there were still oceans to go. The dream aspects and the memories were sucked up by Dross, and Lindon could feel him evolving by the second.

Centuries of life strengthened the Dreadgod, and Lindon wanted them all. There was never enough.

Only now was the Silent King technically on the verge of death.

I’ll keep them off you, Emriss Silentborn whispered. But only for a moment, or they’ll fight us both.

Northstrider and Malice both focused on Lindon.

“Stop,” they commanded.

“No,” Emriss countered.

The weight of her age held off their authority long enough as the oldest Monarch protected Lindon.

“He will not finish the Dreadgod,” Emriss told them. “He knows better. Let him weaken it while it cannot call for help.”

Finish the Dreadgod, she said privately to Lindon.

[I like her,] Dross said. [Lots of eyes.]

Lindon had to wrestle his arm to get it to release the neck of the Dreadgod, then he leaped into the air.

When he was over the Dreadgod, he gathered all his remaining power into dragon’s breath. Soulfire, madra, and authority coalesced as one.

A bar of Blackflame pierced the center of the Silent King’s halo, drilling straight through its skull.

Lindon landed behind it before the wills of two Monarchs seized him. Their fury threatened to crush him, but he was swollen to bursting with power from the Dreadgod. He pushed back.

Their anger was unbreakable.

Northstrider drifted down to Lindon’s right, and his black-scaled hands shone with blood and hunger. “We will burn you for this.”

To Lindon’s left, Malice joined him, and her wrath was cold as night. “Traitor.”

Even Emriss took human form, that of a dark-haired woman carrying a staff. He was sure her anger and sorrow were feigned, but they felt real. “What have you done?”

Lindon remained steady even as they threatened to tear him apart.

“You allowed this,” Lindon said quietly.

Malice sneered at him. “Do you know how much stronger the other three will become now that another has fallen? You cannot fathom—”

“Four,” Lindon corrected. He raised his right hand in a fist. “The other four.”