“I’d feel at ease if you told me that was you,” Yerin said.
Lindon shook his head. He stared at the exit, and he wasn’t the only one. The spiritual sensations from above were clear. Not only did that lead back, but it led out. It was a straight shot back to the surface.
“Huh,” Ziel said. “This is probably a trap.”
Then he leaped out of the room.
“Good-bye!” Mercy called after him.
They all expected the way out to vanish as soon as Ziel left the room, but it lingered. It stayed long enough that they all felt it when Ziel left, because they got a sudden taste of spiritual power from the outside.
All their expressions changed at the same time, as they all sensed the same thing.
There was a war out there.
Great powers clashed in the world above, so many that it was difficult for Lindon to sort them. Sacred Valley—if they were still in Sacred Valley—was no longer a battlefield for Irons and Jades. Heralds fought up there, and Sages.
And Monarchs.
Mercy’s face was pale, and she gripped Suu. “That’s my mother.”
“And she’s not playing alone,” Yerin said grimly.
“Oh my, it is a party.” Eithan cocked his head as though listening. “How did the Eight-Man Empire make it all the way here? And the Dreadgod cults? If he brought House Shen as well…”
Lindon passed a hand over his face. Of course. If Reigan Shen had come here, he would have brought his forces in reserve.
“How strong is House Shen, Eithan?” Lindon asked.
“I’ll put it to you this way: Reigan Shen’s decision to compete in the Uncrowned King tournament as the patron of the Dreadgod cults was only unexpected because he had a perfectly viable team before. They’re at least the match of any other Monarch faction, but it is…not simple to bring them here. He must have spent quite the fortune.”
“We need answers,” Lindon said. His perception remained in the still-open passageway to the surface, and he weighed the dilemma in his mind.
Should they all go back?
They could report Reigan Shen’s actions to the Monarchs, who were surely more qualified to stop him, and then they could join the fight. At the very least, they could help suppress House Shen, and Lindon was very concerned about the fate of the Blackflame Empire.
They were not too far away, in the grand scheme of things. If Monarchs started fighting directly, then the Empire was still within Striker range.
But that meant giving up on the full story of the Dreadgods.
It meant giving up on the potential prizes, like Ozriel’s Soulsmith inheritance. That could be the key to fixing Dross.
And it meant letting Reigan Shen do as he wished down here.
“I’ll go,” Mercy said heavily. “I think I have to.”
“They can’t make you,” Yerin said. “As long as we have a voice, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want.”
Mercy leaned on her staff as she looked upward. “Do you know how bad I’d feel if something happened to the Blackflame Empire while I’m stuck down here?”
Yerin tried to speak, but she was clearly stumped. If Lindon knew her, he suspected she was thinking along the same lines herself.
Mercy gave everybody an encouraging smile. “Sorry I can’t help, everyone! But don’t worry, I can take care of what’s happening up there!”
She leaped up after Ziel.
But Lindon was still connected to the authority of the labyrinth, and he could feel where she went. She was only seconds behind him, but he had emerged miles away, and she was right above them. Was that Subject One’s trap?
“And then there were three,” Eithan murmured.
[Three humans,] Dross agreed. […and one almighty mind-spirit.]
Outside the labyrinth, Ziel was spat out into a filthy cave, half-ruined by some earthquake. Or, more likely, the Wandering Titan.
He emerged to feel the chaos of battle all around, and the mobile headquarters of the Dreadgod cults high above.
“Why did he send me so far away?” Ziel muttered.
But there was no sense complaining. For once, he had a job to do. Ziel leaned the hammer on his shoulder and began to hike.
20
The sensations from outside had gone away, as evidently Mercy had sealed the door behind her, but the labyrinth still didn’t shift.
“You don’t leave the gate open if you want the lambs to stay put,” Yerin muttered.
Eithan folded his arms. “I don’t like that Subject One seems to have taken Reigan Shen’s side. That makes our odds…unfortunate.”
Lindon had pulled out the case containing the Dreadgod’s hand, but now he just stared at it. Thinking.
He had resolved himself to keep everyone together, to fight together, and not to let the difference in their strengths matter. But in the end, he’d been forced to bow to reality.
“So it’s just us,” he said aloud. He forced a smile. “Makes sense. We’re the strongest.”
Yerin gave him a strange look, but Eithan looked as though he understood.
Evidently the labyrinth had lost patience with them, because the walls blurred again. Now, there was only one entrance.
And it led to another overwhelming spiritual presence, like the ones that had birthed the Tomb Hydras. This time, though, the feeling was of unstoppable physical power.
He released the hand, just to see if Subject One had been messing with them. This time, there was no response from the hunger techniques, and the hand indeed clawed in the direction of the one entrance.
“So which costs us less?” Eithan mused. “Fighting with that, or carving through the floor?”
Yerin was still watching the ceiling. “You want to run your feet instead of your lips?”
Lindon racked his brains. No matter how he thought of it, he couldn’t come up with a way to reach the bottom of the labyrinth with all three of them at peak fighting condition.
And if he didn’t, they would have no chance against Reigan Shen.
He might be able to see to himself. There should be an opportunity to extract some unadulterated hunger madra, and then he could get his Consume technique working again. At least for a while.
If he did, then he and Dross would have a way of restoring Lindon’s strength even in this aura-less environment.
But that required fighting this massively powerful dreadbeast and hoping.
“Let’s fight.” He began to run, but Yerin stood in front of him without moving.
“Don’t duel with yourself,” she warned.
Lindon nodded, but he dashed forward.
They ran down the hall…and although the master of the labyrinth had made them face a long hallway, their speed without Mercy and Ziel along was truly incredible. The Soul Cloak was economical enough to use even while sparing his madra, and Yerin’s physical power meant that she could literally sprint faster than her physical body should allow.
They reached the end of the hall in a blink, with Eithan lagging behind.
Lindon could see another of those endless rooms filled from wall to wall with flesh. The gorilla-like dreadbeasts that emerged reminded him of Crusher, and there were at least a dozen of them. Their pointed ears twitched toward the group as they arrived, and when they roared, the sound itself counted as an attack.