Reaper(Cradle #10)(75)

Lindon controlled the aura generated by the natural treasures in his void key to send weapons floating out. Wavedancer wouldn’t help much, since flying swords operated on ambient aura, but he had plenty of other constructs available.

As the balls of Forged madra flew, crawled, or rolled out seemingly of their own accord, Lindon steadied his own breathing and looked to Eithan.

“Are our odds that bad?” he asked quietly.

[Yes,] Dross said, but Lindon hadn’t been talking to him.

“I may be making it look worse than it is,” Eithan said. “I was already in quite a mood.”

“Good.” Lindon strapped three launcher constructs to his left arm. “Let’s take it out on him.”

Spiritual pressure rippled out over the entire room, shaking the surface of Lindon’s construct. He felt Reigan Shen’s will, and Mercy was certainly right. This wasn’t a Monarch at full power. He must have spent months in the suppression field, and the power of hunger would have taken bites out of him.

In a way, that was more terrifying.

Because his will settled on them like the tide as Reigan Shen strode out of the shadows. He looked like he’d spent a year living in the desert. The white-gold mane of his hair and beard was matted and overgrown, and his clothes were ragged and patched. He had cases, bottles, and containers of every description belted all over him.

A pair of swords hung at his hips, one huge and shining orange and one thin as a needle. A shield had been slung over his back, and a lens covered Shen’s left eye.

And in his eyes was all the confidence of a Monarch.

He didn’t look like someone who had survived the wilderness. He looked like the wilderness had survived him.

“Eithan! It seems I owe Subject One some thanks. I could use an Arelius guide.” He glanced up to the symbol on the wall. “Especially here.”

At some point, Eithan had recovered his smile. “I’m flattered! I didn’t think you’d trust me, given my track record at guiding Monarchs.”

“I was talking about your Remnant.”

“I have a suspicion he wouldn’t be any more pleasant to deal with.”

“I’ll find out for myself.” Reigan Shen looked to Yerin and nodded. “Uncrowned Queen. Your performance was magnificent, and Red Faith is quite taken with your methods. I’d be more than willing to work with you.”

Yerin shrugged. “No blood spilled between us. You want to get friendly, it depends on what you want to do with the Dreadgods.”

Lindon, Ziel, Mercy, and Eithan were now spread out to flank the Monarch as Yerin stood boldly in front of him.

Reigan Shen didn’t seem to mind their positioning at all. He openly examined Yerin with a sudden interest. “I think we might be able to work together. I intend to finally bring the Dreadgods under control.”

“You’d bet that you can?”

“I’m betting everything.”

Gleaming red-chrome madra slowly expanded from Yerin, and her sword lifted to point at him. “Love to test the edge of somebody who can hold a Dreadgod’s leash.”

“Yes. It will be your honor.” Reigan Shen surveyed the rest of them with disdain. “Well? If you’re going to attack, let’s see it.”

Lindon wasn’t so rude as to turn down an invitation like that.

The three launcher constructs on his arm fired in a set sequence. First, the Web of Silence, a shimmering purple-and-orange web from a strange Path that attacked the mind and the spirit. Then a Starkeeper’s Lance, from a Path that compressed sword and lightning madra to the utmost. Finally, the Swamp Fire, a swarm of knuckle-sized poisonous fireballs.

In a blink, all three constructs had launched, timed to land at their target together. From his other hand, Lindon unleashed a bar of black dragon’s breath.

The others had struck at the same time.

Mercy—who once again felt like an Overlady—had released a barrage of a thousand Forged amethyst arrows. The binding of Eclipse, Sacred Bow of the Soulseeker.

Instead of swinging his hammer, as Lindon had expected, Ziel also used a simple launcher construct. It looked like a wasp’s stinger, and it sent out a series of nails made from force madra.

Three people didn’t move: Reigan Shen, Yerin, and Eithan.

A web spread out to devour Reigan Shen, glistening orange and purple. Behind it, a needle-sharp beam crackling with lightning and a spray of green fireballs. Lindon hadn’t skimped on these weapons; all of them had been enhanced to the level of Archlord constructs. Meanwhile, a dark beam of Blackflame tore through the air to the side.

Gold-and-gray bolts flew from another angle, strong enough to drive holes through thick city walls. And from above, Mercy’s amethyst bolts. Reigan Shen faced techniques from every angle.

A transparent bubble expanded from the shield on the Monarch’s back.

All the techniques shattered when they struck the bubble, but Lindon could feel the impact they carried. The construct couldn’t hold out—and sure enough, the shield itself broke.

That was what Yerin and Eithan had been waiting for.

Yerin shone white and appeared behind Reigan Shen, her sword shining. Eithan stood where she had before, and he drove a Hollow Spear at the Monarch’s midsection. It was so advanced that it actually took on the image of a spear, the triangular head plunging straight for Shen’s core.