Underlord (Cradle #6)(10)

She had an arrow nocked and was trying to track a target, but a tiny pink fireball landed at her feet. She stumbled back, but remarkably didn't lose the arrow. She loosed it at an armored Truegold who had noticed her, approaching with an axe that looked to have been made out of a living tree.

The arrow stuck in his armor and did nothing.

But Lindon was there now. He let his Blackflame madra drop, switching to his pure core. This time, the Soul Cloak sprang up around him, a fluid blue-white light. It passed through his body like a nourishing river, and his body responded without thought.

Since the fight with Harmony, he hadn't had enough time to explore his new capabilities. Between the sacred beast meat enhancing his strength, Dross speeding up his thoughts, and the Soul Cloak guiding his movements, it was like he was in control of a completely different body.

He stopped the swing of the wooden axe, dodged a Striker technique, kicked one of the Skysworn's legs out from under him, released a finger of dragon's breath to keep Orthos' opponent off-guard, tore the axe out of the Truegold's hands, dispersed another golden technique from behind him with his Remnant arm, smashed the Truegold with his own axe, then dropped the weapon and grabbed the woman following him by the spikes on her shoulders. She had already started pushing madra into her Goldsigns, but it was too late; Lindon had spun and thrown her with all the power he could draw.

The two Truegolds landed on the pile one after the other.

It had felt almost effortless. Like one long motion.

He was out of breath and his madra channels felt sore, but he spun, looking for the next opponent.

There came the chime of a great bell, and the four Highgolds—two on the ground, and two still on their clouds—all flew backwards at the same instant, sparks flying from their armor as though they’d been struck by invisible swords. The two in the sky fell, and Lindon launched himself toward the closest one: a girl with lines of crystal tracking down from her eyes like tears.

He couldn’t know what this girl’s Iron body was. Maybe she would be fine. But he’d worked too hard to avoid killing the others to let blood be spilled now.

The Highgold Skysworn apprentice flailed in the air, Forging a tower of purple crystal beneath her to try and catch herself. Lindon leapt up before the tower formed, catching her in his arms and landing on the grass. She shuddered in his grip, clutching the front of his outer robe.

He turned to see Yerin standing beneath the other falling Skysworn. As he was about to hit the ground, she reached out and caught him by his collar. His neck jerked backwards and his heels still slammed into the earth, but he was fine.

A second later, Yerin dropped him anyway.

Lindon gently placed the Highgold girl down on the grass…although now that he looked, she was probably older than he was.

Mercy cheered, and Orthos laughed. Lindon’s pile had already collapsed, three of the four Truegolds having risen to their feet, but none of them attacked.

Yerin looked from the Truegolds to Lindon. “Tell me true. What were they feeding you while you were gone?”

“Sea monsters,” Lindon said.

Naru Gwei surveyed the situation from his cloud, arms folded. In one long, slow motion, he pulled a finger-sized leaf from a pocket at his waist and placed one end into his mouth.

Behind him, the wind wall had already died to half its original height.

“No one is hurt too badly,” Lindon said. “We can end it here.”

Naru Gwei chewed on his leaf, looking from one of them to the other. Lindon couldn’t guess the Underlord’s thoughts, but he kept pure madra cycling quickly through his channels.

“Bai Rou,” Naru Gwei said at last, “says that you all are a calamity waiting to happen. A bunch of indiscriminate murderers.”

Lindon relaxed a fraction. The Skysworn squads were bruised and embarrassed, but all still alive. Naru Gwei knew as well as anyone how much easier it would have been for Lindon to kill someone with dragon’s breath.

Although their enemies hadn’t been out for blood either. The fight could have been a lot worse, on both sides.

“Looks like I need to take a look at you for myself,” the Skysworn Captain said. Reaching up for the sword hilt over his shoulder, he stepped off his cloud.

Massive emerald wings flared out behind him, and he glided over to Yerin, pulling his sword as he flew. The huge slab of dark steel was so pocked, pitted, and scarred that it didn’t reflect sunlight.

Yerin’s, by contrast, gleamed white, and her Goldsigns shone silver. All three blades flashed as she swung them, sending three madra blades slicing through the air.

He broke them with one sweep of his sword, but Yerin wasn’t finished.

She jumped at him as he was dealing with her techniques, smashing her weapon into his side. He responded quickly, swinging his own heavier blade, the two swords meeting with a deafening crash.

Yerin smashed into the ground, but Naru Gwei didn’t come out easily. He was launched back, his wings losing purchase on the air, flapping and twisting to try and land on his feet.

A bar of Orthos’ dragon breath blasted toward him.

He pushed one armored hand against the black-and-red stream, holding it off like a flow of water as he landed on his feet. He drove his sword into the earth, making a clawed fist with his now-free hand, and Mercy stiffened. She had been drawing an arrow into her dragon-headed bow, but now she was gripped by invisible chains.