him backwards. Lindon didn’t see him land, but the Striker technique in the Dreadgod’s breath tore a chunk from the peak of Mount Samara.
Eithan was gone.
Lindon could feel his spirit, and the amount of pure madra that had gone into defending himself, but Eithan had to be out of the fight.
He couldn’t even spare a thought for concern; the sky was falling.
The world slowed down as Dross accelerated his perception. The ceiling falling on him was the Dreadgod’s tail, plunging onto his head to swat him like a fly.
He dashed out, running across the Titan’s hand for the rapidly narrowing stretch of sky that meant freedom.
[Below!] Dross shouted.
But there was no dodging.
Earth aura reached out from the skin, pulling Lindon down. He stumbled, and it took the whole strength of his Soul Cloak to keep him standing upright.
The tail was coming down.
Lindon opened his void key.
He tumbled inside just as the Titan’s tail and arm crashed together. It was like being in the middle of two islands collapsing, and the wind rushing in blasted everything in his void key to the other side of the room.
The hand of the Dreadgod passed over the doorway…but the willpower accompanying the blow did not.
Lindon felt it like a sudden weight dropping on the void key, and the opening back into the world began to stress and fracture. If he hadn’t focused on it, reinforcing it with its authority, the void space opened by his key would have collapsed. Leaving him stranded.
The view returned in just a moment, giving Lindon clear line of sight as the hand lifted away. His storage space was still floating in midair, so he found himself around the height of the Titan’s shoulder.
The Dreadgod turned, moving away from Mount Samara. Toward Yerin.
Dross, Lindon begged, give me something.
[I gave you all the advice you need: don’t do this. We can get away!]
The Titan raising its foot seemed slow, but only because of Dross’ acceleration.
What about Yerin?
[Well yes, of course, we’re going to save Yerin. I’m not a monster. But then we can leave.]
I don’t want to run, Dross. I want to win.
[Lindon, this…I…] Dross sounded less certain than ever. […I don’t want to do this. It’s too much.]
Please, Lindon said.
[I don’t have anything for you,] Dross said at last, and Lindon’s heart clenched. [No, now, hold on. I don’t have anything for you. Alone.]
Dross sounded like he was taking a deep breath. [Brace yourself.]
His thought carried the impression of great pain, so Lindon prepared himself. I can handle pain.
[Oh no, this is worse than just hurting you. It’s about to hurt me.]
Ziel’s Thousand-Mile Cloud carried him south, toward the mountain that looked like a broken bottle gushing water. The east exit was far too popular; he’d meet up with the rest again once he left the valley.
Except, considering the fact that they were fighting the Wandering Titan right now, he would probably never see them again because of their sheer stupidity.
The wind from the fight buffeted his cloud, and the aura here was thin anyway, so it was slow going. But every foot of progress was a foot away from the Dreadgod.
He had thought his progress was slow before, so he almost panicked when he stopped entirely. For a moment, he was certain the Dreadgod had caught him in some kind of Ruler technique.
When he realized the whole world had stopped, Dross popped into existence in front of him.
Lindon’s spirit panted, though Ziel was certain he wouldn’t need to breathe, and swiped one of his boneless arms across a forehead that was basically just his upper eyelid.
[Okay, I don’t have much time, so just do what I tell you. Okay? We need your help against the Dreadgod. All you have to do—]
“No,” Ziel said.
[Let me finish! Let me finish. I only need you to make a couple of platforms. Just put them where I tell you, when I tell you.]
“No.”
[Don’t—Look, Dreadgods don’t fight to the death. If the prey takes too much energy to beat, they back off, and everything takes too much energy here. We’re just…pushing it back a little, that’s all. All we’re doing. Not going in for the kill.]
Ziel tried to say no a third time, but he couldn’t stop himself from imagining what it could have been like years ago. To watch the Weeping Dragon turn around and drift away, looking for easier prey.
“…fine,” he said reluctantly.
[That’s a promise! You’ve promised now, you can’t break it! And that’s perfect, because I was lying before, I need