Dreadgod (Cradle Book 11) (97)

“You chose to disobey me,” the King purred. “I told you what the consequences would be.”

Scenes appeared, replacing the featureless background. Lindon saw through the perspective of half a dozen different people.

Ziel and Orthos fled down a dark hallway, the Archlord desperately covering for the turtle.

Yerin fought side-by-side with the Blood Sage, both wounded and rapidly healing against a barrage of blood techniques that turned the night crimson.

Mercy surrounded herself with black webs and covered her body with amethyst armor, loosing arrow after arrow in defense of a crowd she couldn’t abandon.

Kelsa and Jai Chen huddled in fear on dirt as indistinct shapes flashed around them.

His parents, seen through a window, huddled and waited for the boundary field around them to fail.

Each scene wrapped icy fingers around Lindon’s heart, but he focused on the limited perspective of his family. The Silent King wasn’t showing him their surroundings.

“Pardon,” Lindon said, “but could you show me a different view of Kelsa?”

The tiger tilted its head.

[Oh yes,] Dross said eagerly. [I want to see The Fleshripper in action.]

“A different view. Very well.”

Kelsa and Jai Chen had been fighting in the Twin Star Sect territory in Serpent’s Grave. Now he saw the city from far away.

Smoke rose from it. It reminded him forcibly of the night the Jai clan had attacked the Arelius family.

The view of his parents had changed too; now, instead of a close-up on their house in Serpent’s Grave, he saw more people scurrying around the wreckage of surrounding buildings. Running. In chaos.

Under attack from another Dreadgod.

The view of Yerin now showed him the Redmoon Hall cloudship swaying drunkenly, its cloud base broken. The view of Orthos showed him an ancient castle crumbling.

“Are you proud of your plans now?” the Dreadgod asked.

Those icy fingers gripped Lindon’s heart…and his own fingers of white hunger madra squeezed into a fist.

His body wasn’t really present in this mental space, but he felt no difference. The hunger of the Slumbering Wraith was still there.

“Why me?” Lindon asked.

“You have trespassed on our domain,” the Silent King said. The giant tiger prowled around Lindon and Dross. “You’ve stolen a piece of us. You belong to us.”

Lindon held his arm up and forced his fist to un-clench. “Then why don’t you tear this from me?”

The white space over the tiger blackened, becoming an endless abyss. The Void Icon.

The Dreadgod looked up into its depths. “You have made our hunger part of your soul. The authority suits you. You belong with us.” The views of Lindon’s friends changed to people living ordinary lives, working in harmony. With white rings over their heads.

“Joining me is not the slavery you imagine,” the Silent King continued. “It is unity. You retain your will; indeed, you are useless to me without it. I merely coordinate you to exert more power than you could separately.”

Lindon began to speak, but the Dreadgod anticipated him.

“My hunger? I feed on excess dream aura, just as Dross does. Small enough that no one misses it. This is a symbiotic arrangement. With a word from you, your loved ones can be safe. I can ensure that they are never endangered again.”

Lindon did feel the pressure of his loved ones in danger, as he felt the weight of the Dreadgod’s will urging him to agree.

But most of all, he was confused.

“You had to know I wouldn’t agree to this.”

The tiger crouched down and laid its head on its paws. “I would be disappointed if you had, the first time.”

The chill around Lindon’s heart expanded.

“My mind can endure in this state for subjective years,” the Silent King said. “Dross is bleeding madra to bear the burden instead of you, but his power is finite. When he runs out, you will last until your will erodes, followed by your brain.”

Fury burned a hole in Lindon’s heart.

What was left was a cold, dark hole.

A void.

The Dreadgod continued to speak casually. “That will take only seconds in reality, but to us it will feel like a year. Or perhaps a decade, depending on how long you hold out. So, Lindon, you have rejected my first offer, and my second. What about my thousandth? My ten thousandth? How many times can you succeed before you fail?”

Lindon turned his mind and spiritual perception to Dross. Sure enough, he was leaking power.

Dross gave the Dreadgod a crazed smile. [As I approach the embrace of darkness, I grow only stronger!]

Lindon turned back to the Silent King. “Apologies, I will have to decline. But I do agree with you in one respect.” Even though it was a mental space, Lindon took a moment to straighten himself. He rearranged the badge on his chest, smoothed his hair, and took direct control of his shaking arm. He faced the giant tiger directly.

“We do belong together.” The Void Icon bled into his voice. “When I Consume your spirit and tear out your heart, you will be with me forever.”

The Dreadgod had some no-doubt clever response, but Lindon reached out for the space around him.

This wasn’t a manipulation of space. It was a technique. The Dreadgod had him in an illusion, meaning he was trapped inside the Silent King’s power.