Thanks to Dross' existence and the flexible power of the Soul Cloak, Lindon reacted even before he thought. He borrowed the force of the explosion, leaning forward, twisting in the air and grabbing a branch overhead, then swinging on the branch to throw himself forward.
[Woohoo!] Dross shouted. [Oh, that was amazing! Go back, let's do it again!]
Do you have a plan ready yet?
[I'm running on the excess dream aura produced by your mind, so I wouldn’t say I’m drowning in power up here. I’m most of the way done, though. Call it sixty percent.]
Lindon spared some attention from his Soul Cloak to send a trickle of pure madra to Dross at the base of his skull. He wasn't sure it would work, but it was similar enough to how he had cycled the power of the Spirit Well to Dross before.
[I appreciate that, I do, but it’s not really helping. Sorry. If you could upgrade your brain, that would really be ideal. Or some dream elixirs, those would be good too.]
Lindon resolved to get Dross some dream elixirs. So long as Kiro didn't catch them.
He heard a distant echo in his thoughts as Dross began to speak again, suggesting he was contacting the others. [Hello! Hello out there, we could use some backup. A little help would be nice before we're killed by this big armored man. Any assistance you could spare would be greatly appreciated. Any at all. Very soon.]
Lindon had been fleeing in the direction he'd come from, so hopefully they were close enough that Yerin and the others could hear them now. The shadow aura muffled everything, but maybe...
His thoughts were interrupted by a wall rising in front of him. He jumped and grabbed a fistful of compact soil in his Remnant hand, which sunk in more easily than his hand of flesh, but walls were rising on his left and right as well. He started climbing, but he felt danger behind and released his grip.
Gray madra speared through the wall again, and Lindon drew on Blackflame. His madra channels burned, and he spun around as he landed, unleashing a bar of dragon's breath two fingers thick. He swept it behind him blindly.
The attack splashed into Kiro's shield less than ten feet away and dissipated, leaving the metal glowing with heat. Lindon backed up, gathering more madra, but Kiro closed that gap in no time. He loomed, his bulky armor making him a massive silhouette, and then slammed his red-hot shield into Lindon's chest.
The impact crushed Lindon into the packed earth and stones, clipping his chin, bruising his ribs, and driving the breath from his lungs. He opened his void key, reaching for the axe with his left hand, but Kiro kicked his hand away. He couldn't reach, and after a moment he lost concentration on his void key and the opening vanished.
Pushing the shield against Lindon's chest, Kiro stabbed him.
He was aiming for the neck, but as the blade approached, Lindon twisted with all the strength he could muster, getting his left hand up and trying to push away the blade. The sword sliced into his shoulder, the inside of his arm, the palm of his hand.
He screamed at the pain, his mind fuzzing, but his body wouldn't let him lose consciousness. If he did, he would die.
So he lashed out with his right hand.
The fingernails of his Remnant arm were slightly tipped like dull claws, and they dug into Kiro's helmet. The Underlord ignored them for a moment...until he noticed that the hunger binding was active, drawing madra away. And his armor was made entirely of madra.
Lindon scooped away a handful of his helmet like butter, peeling it away from his face. The veins of his white arm filled with gray.
Kiro instinctively jerked back, pulling away.
And Lindon vented his arm.
Whatever Kiro's Path was, it had aspects of earth and force, so even aimlessly shoving it out carried a kick like a horse. The Underlord staggered back, giving Lindon an opening.
Though it burned his spirit, Lindon kindled the Burning Cloak and kicked away, shooting out of the earth walls that blocked him in on three sides. He fled as fast as he could without looking back, trying to ignore his agonizing wounds. He left blood trickling behind him.
[Oh! There's somebody! Hey, help!]
Dross' voice gave him new strength, and he looked up, fixing on the new figure.
It was Mercy.
Her purple eyes were wide as she popped out of the shadows, riding on her staff, pulling it to a halt as she saw him. Her hair had grown long enough to cover her ears now, and it whipped in the wind of her movement.
Lindon himself skidded to a stop. He took quick stock of his injuries.
Then he kicked off in another direction.
She may have demonstrated the power of a Truegold before, but she was still only Highgold. He couldn't put her in danger.
He glanced back to make sure that Kiro was following him. He hadn't gone far; he could still see the three-walled prison of earth through the trees, and the armored Underlord running away from it. But he wasn't running for Lindon.
He headed for Mercy, shield and sword in hand.
Lindon shouted to draw his attention, Burning Cloak flaring in spite of his madra channels' protest. He dashed back the other way, throwing himself at Kiro. With a quick motion, he reached into the void key and pulled out Harmony's axe.
Kiro reacted as though he'd expected Lindon to return all along, pivoting smoothly and bracing his shield for the impact.
Though his shoulder screamed in pain, Lindon hit the shield with his axe and all the explosive force of the Burning Cloak, slamming the Underlord backwards.
Or so he intended.
Instead of flying away, the Underlord stood as though he were nailed to the ground. The force transferred through him, kicking up a savage wind behind him that tore up soil and leaves, even stripping bark from nearby trees.
Undeterred, Kiro struck out with his sword, and Lindon raised his Remnant arm to protect his face. It wouldn't hold, but maybe it would prevent the Underlord from splitting his skull.
The sword rang like a bell, jerking backwards as though Kiro had struck an invisible stone.
Though Lindon couldn't see Kiro's expression, the prince must have been as shocked as Lindon was. He looked around for the new enemy, giving Lindon space.
Before Lindon could move, he was grabbed and tugged backwards. Black strings of Mercy's madra pulled Lindon away, and he let them pull him behind a large tree. Mercy crouched next to him, looking over him with worried eyes. She paused a moment when she saw the weapon in his left hand, but shook it off, wadding up a purple cloth to push against his injuries.
Lindon didn't spare another thought for her. His Bloodforged Iron body was pulling madra to his wounds, and he was trying to ignore his aches and pains and watch Yerin's fight. But it wasn't Yerin.
Not entirely.
Yerin's Blood Shadow stood before Kiro. Red robes flapped in the wind, a five-fingered hand held a pink-bladed sword, and six sword-arms stuck out from her shoulders. Yerin's eyes—painted in crimson—watched the Underlord, and Yerin's smirk was on her face.
Lindon had never seen the Blood Shadow with such detail before. At first, he was relieved; Yerin must have had a breakthrough of some kind in order to get her Shadow to this level.
But that wasn't the only possibility.
A shiver of dread passed through him, and he watched the trees behind the Blood Shadow. If the parasite completed its goal and devoured Yerin completely, it might have looked like this. If she were still alive, she’d be following soon.
“What is this?” Kiro asked. “Have you bound a Remnant to your service?”
The Shadow's red smile grew wider, and she beckoned Kiro with her sword.
A green light blossomed from the darkness behind her, and another woman came rushing out. She was gray-eyed and gray-haired, wearing a shabby dress, and she carried a scythe with a blade of green flame.
She looked only a little older than Lindon, and her spirit carried the weight of an Underlord.