That had been obvious, but Lindon was still curious. Can you understand what she says?
[Of course I can. I was originally the guide construct to an international facility.]
Can you translate?
[Sure, yeah, no problem. Ahem: she says something along the lines of, ‘I want you to help.’]
Lindon's hopes were dashed.
Pride landed among the Blood-Chorus artists before Eithan reacted. He landed a black-rippling punch on one and shrugged off an attack from the other with the gray haze of his defensive Enforcer technique. One of the blood artists made a grasping motion, and Lindon could feel the power of blood aura spike as Pride staggered. A Ruler technique.
Before Pride could counter it, silver sword madra crashed into one enemy and black arrows ravaged the other.
Eithan helped the Arelius woman to her feet. She asked him a question and he responded in the same language.
While the rest of the team cleaned up the two from Blood-Chorus, the Arelius woman said her farewells to Eithan, cast a last regretful glance at the gold column of light, and then ran off into the trees.
“Pardon if you don't want to answer,” Lindon said, “but what did you say to her?”
Eithan waved a hand as though to say it was nothing. “Oh, certainly. She asked me if I would help her seize the crown, because the further House Arelius makes it, the better chance we have to rebuild. I said something about me being a core descendant of House Arelius who fled after the death of our Monarch, and she said that she understood and would leave this crown to me. Then she ran off to wait for the rest of her team to return.”
Eithan's smile was unshakeable, and Lindon couldn't read anything in it. The rest of the team had eliminated the Blood-Chorus pair and was defending the crown's beam of light.
Lindon stared at Eithan, waiting for him to elaborate.
[...I think he's telling the truth,] Dross said.
“Do you ever intend to tell us where you came from?” Lindon asked, a little irritation leaking into his voice.
Eithan's eyebrows rose. “Did you want to know? You've never asked me.”
Lindon stopped. Surely that couldn't be true.
“I have certainly withheld other information from you, but you've never once asked me where I came from.”
“Oh. Apologies. So...where did you come from?”
Yerin shouted as Pride's hand closed around the crown, and both Eithan and Lindon turned.
Yerin had a hand on the hilt of her sword, and Pride's body swirled with Enforcer techniques as he kept his eye on her and held the crown in one hand. Gold light still streamed from the ground into the sky, passing through his arm.
“I'll be dead and buried before I let you wear that,” Yerin said.
Pride stood about two inches shorter even than Yerin, but he still looked down his nose at her. “You have quite an attitude for a servant.”
Her Goldsigns flexed, silver madra gathering on their points, and Eithan stepped out with his hands raised.
“Hold on, everyone, hold on! It's times like these that we should remember that we are on opposing teams and should therefore fight to the death.”
Saeya held her sword defensively between her and Mercy. Mercy looked frustrated, but still conjured an arrow to defend herself.
Lindon felt as though they were all rushing to conclusions. “Pride,” he called, “who should get the crown?”
Pride continued his staring match with Yerin for a long moment before he looked over to Lindon. “The one who has the best chance of making it to the end of the competition. My sister.”
Yerin and Mercy looked equally surprised.
“Agreed,” Lindon said. “But there are supposed to be twenty-eight more crowns. We should carry this one with us until we have at least two more.”
“So that your team can use them all?” Eithan squinted suspiciously. He raised his fist to the sky. “The Akura family keeps their boot-heel on the common man once again! Down with the oppressors!”
[Ah, there's...one more thing you should perhaps consider,] Dross said, but Lindon continued the conversation.
“Apologies, five more,” Lindon corrected, keeping his frustration under control. “If they keep to the pattern, another one will appear in six minutes. Ten an hour, at which point the first round of people eliminated will return. If we're the largest group here, that's plenty of time for us to get enough for everyone and wear them all at the same time.”
Dross tugged at his attention. [That's a great plan, I really admire that plan, but there's some information you might not have.]
Yerin and Pride nodded to one another, withdrawing their spirits. Saeya sheathed her sword, and Mercy had already happily banished her technique.
Eithan held up a finger. “Ah, but what if more crowns stop appearing after a certain number are held in place? Also…” He lowered his finger to point off to the east.
[Oh, now you pay attention! I grab your brain, and nothing, but as soon as he twitches a finger...]
Two golden lights, clustered together, were moving closer.
A trio of dragons flew over the trees, their screams echoing through the jungle. Lindon extended his perception.
“How many are there?” he asked Eithan.
“Seven. Three golds, two reds, a green, and a black. It’s nice that they’re colored for easy recognition.”
“Change of plans,” Lindon said to Pride, but the Akura was already ahead of him.
He tossed the crown beneath some of the intact trees, the golden beam of light following it. The crown itself couldn’t be seen from the air through the thick canopy, only the beam of light. Then he veiled himself, slipping behind a bush.
“Back to the plan,” Yerin said.
Lindon’s intention had been to gather up all the remaining Akura faction competitors and ambush Sophara together. While she would certainly have gathered allies of her own, he was confident that with at least ten people, they could overwhelm her and retreat.
It almost didn’t matter if some of them were lost. The farther back they could push Sophara, the better their chances of eliminating her.
Lindon switched to his pure core, tightly restraining his madra into a veil. He crept closer to the dragons, tucking himself beneath a thick leaf so he could still see a hint of golden light in the distance. Naru Saeya and Yerin moved nearby, with Mercy and Pride behind the crown. He had lost track of Eithan almost immediately.
The dragons would be suspicious if they saw the crown and no fight around it, but they would have to get close enough to see it. They could burn through the trees and descend from the air, but they probably wouldn’t; flying so high toward one of the gold beams of light would make them easy targets for Striker techniques.
And if any did dive straight for the crown, Mercy and Pride were there to hit them as they landed. Everyone else was arranged to attack if they approached on the ground.
It wasn't anything like a perfect plan, but it was a quick strategy that would serve them better than a stand-up fight. Not only did the dragons have seven to their six, but Sophara frightened Lindon. Based on his practice against Dross' model of her, he wouldn't be surprised if she could eliminate him and Yerin together.
Unless Dross could get some more first-hand observation of her and build a combat solution against her. Or if Yerin's Blood Shadow ended up being more of a factor than he hoped. He hadn't seen the gold Underlady fight against any real sacred artists yet—only trials and projections.
He crouched in the damp soil and the humid heat, occasionally flicking away insects the size of his thumb. Veiling himself restricted his spiritual perception, making him feel blind, as though the dragons could be sneaking up behind him at any second.
He would’ve felt much better with Blackflame running through him—not only would the madra itself give him some much-needed emotional support, but then he'd have a Striker technique ready. But veiling pure madra was much more effective than veiling the Path of Black Flame.