Dreadgod (Cradle Book 11) (104)

Power exploded from the Silent King’s corpse. Hunger aura. It flashed to every corner of the world, empowering the other Dreadgods.

All four of them.

Searing heat passed through Lindon’s body as his madra channels burned into his flesh, transforming into part of his body. His cores condensed like a spirit, becoming more real. His eyes blazed and froze, like he was channeling Blackflame and pure madra at the same time.

Hunger madra devoured his right arm. From the elbow up to his shoulder, white flesh ate its way up second by second.

If not for his firm will, it wouldn’t have stopped at the shoulder.

Malice and Northstrider commanded him down with their authority, but his power warped the very space around them. His capacity was growing as his body and spirit were reforged in the power of the Dreadgod.

Finally, Northstrider tired of the indirect battle. He sped for Lindon, his fist trailing blood aura. He slammed a punch into Lindon, his attack layered with the same Enforcer technique he would use against a Dreadgod.

Lindon met it with an Empty Palm.

Blue light flashed against red, and Lindon was shoved back. The violent power of the Silent King was settling into him now, his transformation—or his advancement, whichever it was—calming down.

But Lindon was not the same as he had been only moments before.

Dross appeared by his side, and the spirit wore a purple-white halo. [Oooh, this looked like fun! Uh, don’t take this too hard, all right?]

Illusory copies of Lindon appeared all over as Dross used the Silent King’s illusion technique. All of Lindon’s copies tore holes in space.

The Monarchs could shut them all down, but not instantly. And only one of them was real.

Before they found him, Lindon was already gone.





Northstrider crushed another copy of Lindon and watched it bleed away to dream essence. He had known it wasn’t the real one, but he needed something to vent this fury.

He turned it on Emriss.

“You let him get away with a dream technique? Right in front of you?”

She gave him a sorrowful look that he wanted to claw right off her face. “I believe the primary technique he used was hunger, wasn’t it?”

“We need to tell the others,” Malice said.

Northstrider slammed his heel into the ground and created a new canyon. “Did anyone else notice the corpse is gone?”

Emriss shook her head regretfully. She tapped her staff on the ground and the diamond at its top flashed blue-green.

Her intentions stretched all over the world as she hosted another meeting between the Monarchs.

The illusory space she constructed was turquoise and serene, like it took place inside her gemstone. Malice and Northstrider were swallowed along immediately, of course, but he was surprised to see the others show up so quickly.

Good. At least they understood how serious this was.

Larian, representative of the Eight-Man Empire, collapsed to her backside as soon as Northstrider appeared. She looked exhausted, and she stretched her bow across her knees. “Which one of you pushed the Phoenix our way? Let me know now, so I can carve your name into an arrow.”

Sha Miara, sheathed in rainbows, stood at the side of Reigan Shen. Ordinarily, Northstrider would see that as a bad sign.

Now, Shen stepped forward and surveyed them. His white main was slick and styled, and he looked completely at ease as he surveyed them. He must have seen their obvious anger, because his lips crooked into a humorless, tilted smile. “I warned you.”

“You think this is time to say ‘I told you so?’” Malice asked.

Sha Miara stomped her foot and the space around them trembled. “Which one of you killed the Silent King? We had almost driven away the Dragon!”

“Wei Shi Lindon did it,” Emriss said with a sigh. “He went too far.”

“Wei Shi Lindon Arelius,” Shen added.

Northstrider felt that entirely too much time had been wasted already. “Even this morning, any of us could have killed him whenever we wished. We were complacent. Now, he will only grow stronger. We have to strike while the window is open.”

“Do we?” Larian asked. She pointed one gold finger skyward. “You want to go best-of-three rounds with the scythe-man from the sky?”

“They won’t take revenge for anything we do within the bounds of our world’s Fate,” Sha Miara said confidently. “They cannot interfere to such a degree.” Northstrider heard the voices of her predecessors in her. For a moment.

Then she added, “…can they?”

“It seems the Abidan’s oath of noninterference is worth only as much as they decide it is,” Reigan Shen said.

Malice looked coldly into the distance. “We cannot allow this to continue. It’s a humiliation for all of us.”

Reigan Shen prowled forward like the lion he was. “You were late to see that we have a common enemy. But not too late. We can still strangle him out, we merely have to grab him by the neck and squeeze.”

“We should kill him,” Northstrider said. He could take Dross from Lindon’s spirit.

When he thought about how much time and energy he’d wasted on the two of them, his blood boiled. Lindon had taken his good grace and then spat on him.

Reigan Shen pointed a finger at him. It glistened with rings. “If we have to, we should. But I, too, am…not eager to risk a visit from Eithan Arelius. Let us instead back Lindon into a corner. Take from him until he cannot remain in this world any longer.”