Lindon had been forced to infuse his will into virtually everything he’d done since entering the labyrinth, and it was harder and harder to recover his mental energy. The hunger aura devoured even that.
But he still focused on the manifested phantom of the Herald. He would be defeated eventually—he was constantly on the defensive against his four opponents—but their every exchange wasted energy.
“Enough,” Lindon commanded.
The technique was a contained construct of energy, and Lindon ordered that energy to empty out.
It was well within the authority of the Void Icon, and the Herald instantly lost a chunk of strength. Yerin’s sword passed through him an instant later, and then Ziel’s hammer crushed him.
But Lindon’s mind spun, and he had to sit down. That working had taken something out of him, and he wasn’t sure how much he could do before he rested.
The same went for the others. Every technique they’d used to oppose this echo was a technique they couldn’t use later.
And there was no way this was the only ghost in the labyrinth’s arsenal. What if they had to face Malice later, with actual power behind her techniques?
Or even one of the Dreadgods?
When two more exits appeared, Lindon hesitated as he brought out the box containing the hand. “Eithan, can you tell…”
Eithan was already shaking his head. “They both lead deeper, but I can’t follow them far enough.”
“I hesitate to use the hand. If it Forges more experts, I’m not certain we can handle them.”
Ziel let out a long breath. His horns began to glow green, and a circle of runes started floating around the head of the hammer.
“Is the route back still open?” he asked.
“Nope,” Eithan said.
“Well that’s too bad. Use the hand. Whatever shows up, leave it to me.”
Lindon and Yerin traded a look. They didn’t want to be skeptical of Ziel’s ability, but if the labyrinth could simulate Heralds…
“Orthos had the right idea,” Ziel went on. “I can’t help here. I can with whatever’s going on out there.” He levered his hammer up in both hands. “I’ll cover you, then you eject me.”
Lindon wanted to argue, but Ziel was right. If he spent his energy now, they wouldn’t have to waste resources covering for him. It was the best use of Ziel. Lindon just didn’t want it to be.
In the end, since they were short on time, Lindon pulled out the Dreadgod’s hand.
This time, the surge of ghouls that rose from the ground couldn’t be counted. It was a tide of animated hunger madra.
Lindon immediately recognized that this couldn’t be left to Ziel. No matter how confident he was, his Path wasn’t suited to this situation. It was a job for the Hollow Domain, and Lindon diverted his attention from Subject One’s authority and started to use his technique.
But Ziel had prepared. The circle of runes spinning around his hammer expanded immediately, taking on the entire room.
He inhaled as he lifted his hammer…then he brought it down.
The entire room exploded with force. Even the stone cracked, and Lindon’s feet left the ground for a moment, though of course no one lost their balance.
The hunger techniques detonated, sending sprays of essence into the air, and Lindon tucked the hand away. He pointed to the hallway the hand had indicated.
But then another echo appeared. This time, it was a woman spinning a ring around each hand. Each ring was sharp on the outside, and there was another ring floating around her forehead, though this one was clearly a Goldsign.
She nodded at Ziel before hurling one of the rings at him. As it flew, it multiplied in an instant until dozens of rings flew at him.
From the spiritual pressure alone, Lindon wasn’t sure if she was a Herald, but this should at least be the echo of an Archlord.
The Forged rings crashed into Ziel, who braced himself for the impact. Four huge runes floated around him, projecting a column of force that cracked and shuddered under every impact.
Lindon cycled Blackflame, but Ziel glanced to him beneath shining horns. His voice was so low that Lindon wouldn’t have been able to understand his words over the crashing techniques without the hearing of an Overlord.
“What did I say?” Ziel asked wearily.
Then he exploded.
Green force erupted from him in every direction, blasting aside the rings in the air, and he hurled himself at the colorless woman. She herself was surrounded by several looping lights, which Lindon recognized as some kind of full-body Enforcer technique.
Ziel’s hammer crashed against two rings that she held in her hand, and once again the clash between them was deafening.
Several blades flew out from her—Striker techniques, and Lindon suspected they were propelled by launcher constructs. They swerved to attack Ziel, but his movement blurred, and his hammer shattered every one of them.
Neither moved particularly quickly, at least by Lindon’s standards, but each impact was sturdy. Ziel was burning through soulfire, infusing his runes so that his script-circles lasted longer. Therefore, as the fight went on, more and more green rings surrounded his arms, legs, and hammer.
With each exchange, it became clear: he was getting stronger and stronger.
Until this moment, Lindon hadn’t been able to estimate how much of Ziel’s former power he’d recovered. But based on the density of his madra and the strength of his soulfire, Lindon put him at the high end of Overlord or the low end of Archlord.
His skill, though, would be considered impressive no matter where he was. He was Forging runes with incredible precision and operating scripts with such speed that Lindon wondered if he had a mind-spirit like Dross.
[Not like me! I am one-of-a-kind. If he had me, he would rule the world right now.]
Lindon wondered where Dross got the confidence in his own abilities.
Finally, Ziel cornered the woman with the rings. She was locked inside a script-circle which she could surely break, but there were three others in the air surrounding her, and Ziel was covered in slowly spinning emerald runes.
The black-and-white echo sighed and bowed her head, the sign of a good match.
Ziel triggered all the scripts.
She was crushed by pressurized air from all directions, her madra spraying onto the walls. Ziel let out a breath and looked up at the ceiling.
“Incredible,” Lindon said. “I am…truly in awe. I’ve never seen anyone operate scripts so quickly.”
Ziel gave a crooked smile. “Still not a Sage.”
Lindon was also impressed by the flexibility of Ziel’s Path; all of those rings were effectively permutations of a single Forger technique. He would love to examine such a binding.
But as efficient as the technique may have been, Ziel had spent his power lavishly. His core was dim, and his channels strained; he had been largely remade thanks to the Pure Storm Baptism, but the material of his spirit was still new and tender. Between this and the fight with Reigan Shen, he likely shouldn’t have pushed himself so much.
Ziel looked down at himself, a clear expression on his face for a change: frustration. “That’s embarrassing. Maybe I should try harder.”
Lindon focused his authority on the Dreadgod’s hand to give Ziel an exit…but he barely had to wish it before the walls blurred and a pair of doors appeared. There were only two openings: one in the wall, leading forward and down, and another in the ceiling.