Lindon pried the sack from her hand and lifted them toward Grace. “Are they?”
Grace braced herself and decided to tell the truth. “They are not. She…tricked me.”
“I see.” Lindon tossed the sack back to Grace and looked to the girl in his Remnant arm. “Apologies, but why are you stealing from us?”
“I need points!”
“Understandable.”
Gently, he set her down. He lowered himself to look in her eyes, and she was shocked to see sympathy in him.
She would never have expected him to show compassion to someone who had stolen his beloved points, but he put his flesh-and-blood hand on the girl’s shoulder and spoke gently.
“Instead of stealing from our team,” Lindon suggested, “why don’t you steal for us?”
Now that was the Lindon she knew.
Lindon bent his every second to earning points.
He split up the team to take on multiple assignments a day, whenever they could. He took assignments on his own, worked as a Soulsmith when he couldn’t find a mission, and saved enough energy to Forge two pure scales a day.
Even so, they had only managed to earn about a thousand points in the first week.
Their pace was far ahead of the others, but he wasn’t satisfied. At this rate, they would only be able to pick one—maybe two—of the high-value items before he had to return to the tournament.
He would be coming back to Sky’s Edge after the next tournament round, so he would get another chance, but what if the other teams caught up while he was gone?
The problem was their expenses. He scavenged or made everything himself wherever possible, but oftentimes they had to buy scales or dead matter or simple constructs using points. Sometimes it felt like he had to spend five points to make six.
Another problem was the size of his team.
They had all agreed to his plan of buying the most expensive items first, before anyone else had a chance to afford them, but in the end they had eight members. Most of the limited items couldn’t be split up. When one person got a prize, how should the other seven be compensated?
Lindon was adamant that those questions should be answered after they earned all the points they could, but it was still a contentious topic. Certainly, he wouldn’t be able to buy the Diamond Veins for himself while the rest got nothing. That would be an abuse of power as the leader.
Although he still kept trying to come up with some kind of excuse.
Lindon considered his situation as he sat on his Thousand-Mile Cloud, Forging scales as he watched a group of earth artists raise pillars of stone from the ground.
Each artist used a Ruler technique to summon a thin pillar about ten feet high in an instant, and then craftsmen came along behind to etch scripts in its surface. When this boundary formation was complete, it would drive away dreadbeasts and even potentially push the Dreadgod back toward the ocean.
As he was on guard duty, he kept his perception extended, trying to sense a threat. He was the first in his group to feel the intruders.
They carried the impression of a mountain’s worth of stones rolling in from the north like storm clouds. He immediately signaled the foreman, who sounded a horn, then Lindon flew his cloud up to take a look.
[Wow, it’s like a…I want to call it a cloudship, but it’s really the opposite of that, isn’t it?]
From the distance, so far it was only a smudge in Lindon’s sight, a stone temple flew through the air toward them.
The temple itself was like a pyramid with three points instead of one, as though it had been crowned. Instead of resting on a cloud, it was supported by a collection of thousands of flying boulders. As it loomed closer, Lindon picked up a spiritual sensation similar to the Wandering Titan itself.
Abyssal Palace. The Dreadgod cult had arrived at last.
Lindon’s workers had begun to pack up, but he signaled for them to hurry. All around the territory surrounding Sky’s Edge, alarms were going up as others sensed the incoming power.
The feeling represented a massive force, which only made sense. Abyssal Palace didn’t have a Sage, but it had a Herald and several Archlords, and they knew full well that Akura Fury was here. They would have sent everyone they could.
As Lindon and his charges retreated, he used constructs and Dross to send messages to his teammates. When their missions were complete, they all needed to regroup.
Because, while Lindon could sense the overwhelming power of the approaching sect, he mostly felt excitement.
Fury had posted bounties for Abyssal Palace.
It was chaos as Lindon’s workers prepared to leave. There were no attacks—the cult hadn’t even come close to arriving yet—but the workmen were mostly Golds. Some dropped their tools and sprinted off, others tried to save as much of their equipment as they could, and every other group had started fleeing at the same time. Which made a messy crowd.
Lindon gathered his group together, making sure they withdrew at a reasonable pace, but even he chafed at the delay. Every minute he spent stopping Highgolds from fleeing for their lives was a minute further away from turning in the assignment.
Only when everyone was ready did he move them all out. They were almost all older than he was, but fear made them act more like children than adults. Several people tried to convince him why they should be allowed to go on ahead of everyone else, or they panicked and stampeded away for no reason at all.
As he was wearily explaining to a grown man why they couldn’t all turn around and go back for a hammer he’d forgotten, Lindon happened to feel powerful life madra flying over his head.
He instantly veiled his pure core.
Meira accompanied a squad of Seishen Kingdom Golds on a small cloudship that flew overhead. Judging by their route, they were just scouting to make sure that no one got left behind. Had she checked the roster? Did she know this was his group?
He didn’t see her, only sensed her, but when the cloudship flew off he gave a great sigh of relief. The last thing he needed was an unprofitable fight.
He continued the march, pushing through a mile-wide patch of sand that rose and fell like waves on a stormy sea.
One of the Lowgolds had hurt her channels as she tried to keep up her Enforcer technique to push through the patch of sand, and Lindon pulled out Little Blue to treat her.
“Pardon, sister, but why didn’t you let me know before you injured yourself?”
They were balanced on Lindon’s cloud over the surging surface of sand, and the woman spoke with conviction. “I will not be the one to show weakness. If my spirit can’t keep up, then I will crawl home on my fingertips or I will be buried here.”
This woman was older than anyone in the Uncrowned King tournament, and this was how she thought.
“You don’t need to ignore your own limitations,” Lindon said. It felt very strange to be lecturing a woman who might be twice his age, but had half his level of advancement. Like the world had twisted on its head. “Pushing too hard will only hurt you. Apologies.”
As Little Blue channeled cleansing madra, she added her own cheeps of disapproval.
“I asked for no pity,” the woman said calmly.
[I don’t want to tell you how to Underlord, but you may want to try, you know, sounding like you know what you’re talking about.]
Lindon forced down his discomfort and spoke more sternly. “I have given you none, but I am in command of this group, and I will not lose a member for any reason. Do you understand?”
She straightened and nodded.
Lindon desperately wanted to apologize.
He returned her to the sand. “Now, I expect you to alert me or one of the Truegolds if you find you can no longer continue. Or if you notice anyone else who begins to flag. Can you do that?”
She pressed her fists together.
“Gratitude. Is there anyone—”
[Aaaahhh!] Dross screamed. [Combat report!]