She drew her crystalline bow and used its binding to Forge a matching arrow onto the string. Air rippled as the fabric of the world was warped by the power she invested into the arrow, and she let it loose casually in the direction of Abyssal Palace.
See if their Herald could stop that. Even if he did, there were more arrows where that one came from.
An arrow flew from the island of the Silent Servants, striking her own in midair.
The collision of the two missiles created a thunderous detonation of light, which whipped up a hurricane and darkened the sky. Even the island was pushed back.
Malice’s mood soured even further.
“What a wonderful veil you have,” she said, and this time she didn’t enhance her voice with aura at all.
Miles away, a blonde woman in golden armor strode out onto the edge of the Silent Servants’ island. Larian of the Eight-Man Empire rapped her knuckles on her own breastplate. “Wish I could take credit for it, but I’m more about hitting things with sticks from very far away.”
“So you have chosen to side with the beasts, then. Curious. I thought you liked being on the winning team.”
Larian leaned on her bow, which looked to the mortal eye to be made of twisted gray driftwood. “The ‘human versus beasts’ line doesn’t work without the dragon around, you know. It’s not like all of us are human anyway. Besides, you know why we’re doing this.” Her voice sharpened. “The Monarchs are the only ones who benefit from the system the way it is. It’s about time we shake things up.”
Malice itched to beat some sense into this shortsighted Sage, but no one on the Path of the Eightfold Spear traveled alone.
Sure enough, seven other presences removed their veils all around Sacred Valley. The Eight-Man Empire was here in full, surrounding Sacred Valley.
“You think Shen is going to change things?” Malice asked softly. “He will never do anything that costs him power.”
Larian shrugged. “We’re not like the rest of you; we don’t need an ironclad plan before we’ll put one foot in front of the other. Any change is better than none.”
“Beautiful. So noble of you to be involved to change the world, and not for any sordid material motives.”
“Malice, he paid us so much.” Larian staggered under the invisible weight of a fortune, only her bow keeping her upright. “We were going to say no at first, but then he just kept bringing out more and more. I felt bad! I said, ‘Reigan, how are you going to feed your people if you give us all this?’ He didn’t even say anything, he just kept dumping treasures into this big pile.
“Priceless art? Right onto the pile. Gold? Pile. Scales? Weapons? Natural treasures? Pile. By the time he was done, I swear on my heart, it was taller than my head. Best day of my life.”
Larian sighed fondly. “So anyway, we can’t let him down after all that, right?”
From the lands all around the valley, war-bands of the Eight-Man Empire raised their banners. Not crude constructions of cloth and wood, but projections of symbols made of Forged madra. Ghost-Blade, Nine-Hands, Flame-Gift, Blood-Chorus…each of the eight wandering mercenary armies that made up the Eight-Man Empire’s workforce was arrayed against her.
Malice had sensed them already, but without closer inspection, had taken them to be the forces of House Shen. The war-bands averaged one Archlord, a handful of Overlords, and two or three dozen Underlords apiece, so only when they were gathered in one place could they possibly face down a Monarch’s forces. Just like the Eight-Man Empire themselves.
But this only stoked her rage hotter, because the presence of the Empire’s armies meant two things. First, that Reigan Shen had devoted staggering resources to bring so many people so far. Second, that House Shen was still unaccounted for.
He had presumably kept his own forces in reserve to defend his territory, but she would know soon. Her subordinates were on their way to the Rosegold continent already.
Malice gave the gathered horde an icy once-over. “To think he would empty his treasury to bring such an army here.”
“I told you! He’s invested.” Larian pulled her bow from the ground and gestured with it. “So are you going to let this happen, or do you want to make us earn our keep?”
Miles behind Malice, the unaffiliated experts of the Wasteland received her transmitted message and removed their veils. Three Heralds, a Sage, and five ancient Archlords. From the other side of Sacred Valley, Charity cycled her own madra, and several Herald-level spirits shone like bonfires as well—living weapons of the Akura clan.
At a glance, Malice’s own forces were lacking. She had fewer Sages and fewer Heralds.
Then again, the Eight-Man Empire couldn’t really be counted as a collection of Sages and Heralds, but as one Monarch. And these were Malice’s lands. Not only could she draw upon more forces than the enemy, she had other resources to play.
And she could call Northstrider.
Larian sighed. “I don’t suppose you’d consider settling our differences with a series of duels, would you?”
Malice tapped her bloodline legacy so that her eyes shone, and she radiated shadow aura to blacken the sky. “Invaders, hear me! You have trespassed on Akura lands. Withdraw, or your blood will flow like water.”
“Guess the fight will come down to Golds, then,” Larian said. “At least it is a good cause, in the end.” Then she shed her casual appearance and adopted a manner more befitting a self-respecting Sage. “Long-Sight!”
The Long-Sight war-band, beneath their banner of a bow and an eye, gave a shout and a pulse of spiritual power that shook the ground.
Far away, a different voice shouted. “Ghost-Blade!”
The Ghost-Blade war-band answered their leader, and another cry went up from another member of the Eight-Man Empire.
“Blood-Chorus!”
“Flame-Gift!”
“Green-Stride!”
The war-bands of the Eight-Man Empire sounded like the footsteps of the Wandering Titan as they answered their leaders.
And soon, if Malice didn’t stop them, they would hear the Titan’s actual footsteps once again. Reigan Shen had often claimed he wanted to call the Dreadgods together to destroy them and make them into weapons. Even if that were true, it would ruin her lands.
So she would crack open this formation and destroy Shen’s plans, even if she had to drown them in blood.
10
Lindon could best describe the next room as a “hall of hammers.”
It was a stone cellar, and very recently, the walls had been lined with wooden shelves and racks. He had to piece that together, because now the room was strewn with splinters. Someone had clearly done battle here, and recently, though the stone of the walls was unharmed.
Before that battle, the racks and walls of the room had been filled with hammers. Lindon was certain only because some pieces remained.
As they entered, he had to step over a hammer with a head that looked like it was made of dark purple glass. It still leaked sparks of pink essence from a crack. A pile of broken hammers lay in the corners, where they had been discarded, and a few had been crushed while still strapped to a rack.
Those same racks were all over the room, empty, and Lindon noticed evidence that they had been occupied recently.