Underlord (Cradle #6)(84)

Lindon's conscience wasn't entirely at ease, but he already felt like he couldn't wait anymore. Without further argument, he sat on the ground, resting his back against the wall. Yerin's armored boots dangled next to him, and Mercy's staff ground into the stone on his other side. They would make sure he was undisturbed.

Facing back down the hallway, he tapped his void key and opened his storage. He felt ridiculous using his own natural treasures when he sat here in an endless treasure vault, but he didn't want to spend the time to select the perfect balance of aura. He decided to think of it as emptying his storage so he could fit more in later.

Lindon carefully withdrew the set of natural treasures that he carried for his advancement, placing them around him. Then he closed his eyes, letting his perception flow along the lines of aura, tracing the source.

It was many times easier here than it had ever been before. He felt connection to everything all of a sudden; from the stone beneath him to Yerin's beating heart. Her lifeline felt so thin that it pained him. It was a central pillar holding up a house, but it had chunks taken out of it like bites. How long would it hold up under the weight?

He refocused his mind, feeling his connection to the world around him. The soulfire echoed that connection, forming a bridge between his spirit and the aura.

I practice the sacred arts, Lindon began, so that I—

Yerin's spirit and Mercy's flared at the same time. The script around the entrance was disrupted for an instant.

Someone had entered the vault.

He snapped his eyes open, deactivating the void key so that he could see. He therefore had a clear view of the Underlords marching on him.

Kiro walked in the center, helmet on, his armor working smoothly around him. Unlike the crudely Forged madra he'd worn before, this was clearly Soulsmith work, and through each seam in the other layer of dark gray madra, Lindon caught a flash of bright silver or dull yellow beneath. Nothing of Kiro himself showed through. He carried the same sword with the bright blue spark curling around its edge, and the lion-faced shield.

The young man Lindon took to be his brother sauntered along with him on the left. He held two swords and no shield, and his armor was slightly thinner. He was also walking with his helmet dismissed, and by his expression was eager for violence.

Meira walked to Kiro's right. Unlike the last time Lindon had seen her, she wore armor as well. Her armor was sleek and smooth, seemingly made of plates of polished wood with green shining beneath. He could see no trace of her hair or the Goldsign running through it, only an ornate chestnut-colored helmet that shone from within with a verdant green light. He only recognized her by the scythe she carried propped up against her right shoulder, the blade a standing banner of life-fire.

Three enemy Underlords, and clearly they had come here for him. Behind them, a silver-and-purple owl fluttered within, perching on the edge of a nook on the upper row.

[Okay,] Dross said, [this could be good! It isn't the worst possible scenario. It is the...fifth worst.]

Lindon scooped up the natural treasures he’d prepared for advancement, hurriedly tossing them into his void key. It wasn’t the most dignified thing to be doing in front of the enemy, but he didn’t want to leave the wealth behind.

He rose to his feet, cycling pure madra and activating the communication construct in his left arm. He had removed it from his previous armor, but after re-examining the suit with Dross, they had found the space to return it. And they had decided to do so, in the case that Dross needed to preserve his energy.

And when he wanted to send a message to the Skysworn without broadcasting his thoughts to every mind within range.

“Three Seishen Underlords in the vault,” Lindon said quietly. “Require assistance.”

The butterfly-shaped construct hovering over his bracer flashed once, then vanished. If Eithan knew their situation, he would find a way to help.

“Come at me all at once,” the younger brother shouted, his swords flaring blue.

Yerin tilted her head. “Whose little brother are you?”

The youngest Underlord's face turned purple as he ground his teeth together. “Your Remnants should remember the name of the man who killed you! I am Seishen Daji!”

Mercy waved. “Hello, Daji! I'm Mercy!”

Dross, how fast can I advance? Lindon asked.

[There are records of Truegolds advancing to Underlord in one breath under ideal conditions, and these are ideal conditions. Except for the people waiting to kill you. But I wouldn't count on doing it that fast. Say...two minutes, to be safe? That's two minutes in which someone won't stab you to death, so probably not these two minutes.]

He didn’t have that long. Even if he ended up being one of the people who advanced in a breath, Kiro only needed one breath to spear him through the chest with a Striker technique.

Lindon cycled Blackflame. “Yerin, are you feeling enlightened yet?”

Her sword was in her hand, the power of her spirit scraping at the edges of her armor. Her six sword-arms bristled around her, gleaming silver. “Can't say that I am.”

He turned blackened eyes from her to his enemies. “Then I don’t see a reason to leave,” he said. “Do you?

She drew aura around her sword as she passed it through the air. “I'm starting to like it here.” Her tone was deliberately casual, but he caught the strain. She was afraid.

[That would be the correct reaction,] Dross said.