were going to kill him.]
I wanted to, Lindon admitted. It had been a struggle to hold himself back from crushing Daji into a ball. He wasn’t proud of that, but he couldn’t pretend that Daji hadn’t earned it.
[Why…ah, if you don’t mind me asking, why didn’t you?]
Lindon stretched out his newfound Sage’s senses, feeling the tear in space where the Akura servants had slipped through a temporary portal. They had dragged the prisoners somewhere immediately, possibly Moongrave, where no one could interrupt them. Where Seishen Daji couldn’t be saved, even by Reigan Shen.
Lindon responded silently to Dross.
My name isn’t Mercy.
Uncle Fury’s ascension ceremony should have been held in the main house, in a hall dedicated for that purpose. Mercy had heard of several family members who had ascended, but never in her lifetime. As far as she knew.
But most of the important members of the Akura clan had come here to Ninecloud City for the Uncrowned King tournament, and it would cost far too much to send everyone to Moongrave. Perhaps her mother could have done it, but she hadn’t shown herself since the Monarch-level battle that had devastated the surrounding countryside.
Not even for her own son leaving the world.
Mercy had to admit that she couldn’t know what kind of contact Uncle Fury and her mother had shared after his ascension to Monarch. Maybe they had enjoyed a heartfelt mother-and-son moment that she wasn’t privy to.
It wasn’t likely, but she could dream.
All the most critical members of the Akura clan gathered in a wide basement beneath their amethyst tower. The gathering had the atmosphere of a party, with the members who were leaving alongside Fury mingling and saying their good-byes while servants drifted around with trays of drinks and snacks.
Uncle Fury, his wife Naria, and many of their children would be leaving together. Their youngest were eight and twelve years old, while their oldest were white-haired and bent. Many of their children were staying; some were too critical to the function of the clan, like Aunt Charity, while others simply didn’t want to leave.
A few of Fury’s descendants had ascended already, many years before, though of course none had done so by reaching Monarch.
In addition to immediate relatives, several distant families under Fury’s branch were coming along with him, as well as a retinue of servants and attendants. All told, about two hundred people were joining the newest Monarch in his ascension.
Some of them had not been here from the Uncrowned King tournament, but had been summoned by Aunt Charity and Uncle Fury at great expense.
Mercy milled around herself, saying good-byes and shedding her share of tears. She hadn’t been especially close to any of those leaving except Aunt Naria, but these were still people she knew. Her family.
In a way, it was like they were dying.
She swiped her eyes as she emerged from a gaggle of her nieces and nephews—many of whom were decades older than she was—to see Lindon and Yerin arrive.
They were immediately mobbed by her relatives.
The sight warmed her heart. It hadn’t been long since the Akura clan had looked down on Lindon and Yerin, and would have approached them only out of necessity or as part of a scheme.
Now, they were tripping over themselves to make a good impression.
Her friends had shown their worth. To everyone.
Lindon loomed over everyone else, and the look of discomfort on his face made him look more like he had before his advancement to Underlord: as though he was searching for something to punch. Unfortunately for him, as a Lord he was handsome enough to take the edge off, so his new admirers would take his expression to be stern and regal.
Yerin looked more at ease than Lindon, shoving through her much-larger crowd and cornering a servant holding a tray of tiny dumplings. She seized a pair for herself, then—when she saw that Lindon was still pinned by Akura clan members—reached in and pulled him out by the hand.
After he let himself be hauled to freedom, he didn’t release her hand right away.
That sight made Mercy slow for a moment. She couldn’t put a name to what she felt. It wasn’t jealousy, exactly. At least, she didn’t think so. Maybe envy.
She had never had many friends in the Akura clan. She considered herself a friend to almost everyone, but very few felt that way about her. From the moment she was chosen by the Book of Eternal Night, she was apart from the rest of them. Separate. A target of