was probably supposed to be a bow. It was really just him pushing his face deeper into the cloud.
Despite her misgivings, Jai Chen giggled.
Northstrider crossed his legs and closed his eyes in midair, catching his breath and slowly recovering his spirit.
The clouds below him were torn apart, the landscape devastated for miles. An abandoned fortress had been reduced to rubble, there was now a bay where once had been uninterrupted coastline, and one small mountain had been leveled while another one had burst into its place.
“I’ll have to have my maps re-drawn,” Malice said with a sigh.
She drifted up next to him out of a cloud of violet essence. Her dissolving armor lit up the sky, but it was nothing compared to the red light that retreated north.
The Bleeding Phoenix, flying into the Trackless Sea.
Not fleeing.
[Behavioral deviation detected in the Bleeding Phoenix,] his oracle reported. [It acts according to unknown purpose.]
Northstrider didn’t need the reminder. They both knew they hadn’t driven it off; it was flying somewhere with intention.
“Do you think it’s feeding to regain its power?” Malice asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Oooh, I know how much you love that.” She was smirking, he was sure, but she had always valued useless conversation. He continued cycling, seeing to his spirit, categorizing how much strength the battle with the Phoenix had cost him and how long it would take to recover.
“He did this,” Malice said at last.
“Yes.”
It would be no mystery among the Monarchs who was responsible for the strange actions of the Phoenix. Only one among them even claimed to have any influence over the Dreadgods.
“He has gone too far,” she said, and now he could feel her cold anger bleeding out into the world around her. “He’s toying with forces that could be the ruin of all of us. What could he possibly expect to gain from this?”
Northstrider opened his eyes. “I will know soon.”
Wearing more veils than he ever had in his life, Reigan Shen shoved his way through collapsed houses and upturned trees. He was still in his human body, and he was both sweating and breathing heavily.
He felt as weak as an Iron. It was like wearing a suit so tight that it had burrowed into his skin.
Even so, he wasn’t doing the work himself. He may be a sacred beast, but he wasn’t an animal.
Jade-level constructs pushed beams aside, dispersed soil, and lifted boulders so he could pass. More scoured the area, clearing the entrance.
It had taken him hours to reach this point, and finally the starting point was within reach. The last chunk of masonry rolled away, revealing a towering stone door. It was carved with the image of a gaunt, sunken human with many grasping hands, its eyes hollow and mouth open unnaturally wide.
This was Subject One, at least as he had appeared long ago. A Dreadgod, though few knew that. The man who had become warped by hunger aura. The origin of their bloodline.
Shen’s willpower was veiled, but still powerful. He commanded the door to open, and it obeyed.
With great ceremony and a hissing release of power, the Nethergate swung open.
Inside, a wood-paneled hallway was lit with flickering scripts. Finally, Reigan Shen had gained the wish he’d dreamed of ever since Tiberian’s death: entrance to the western labyrinth.
Only the shallowest layer, to be certain. The bulk of the work was still left to be done, and the depths of the labyrinth would surely be locked down tight. Fortunately, he had the key.
Reigan Shen strode into the tunnel, on his way to retrieve his new weapon.
Epilogue
With his Remnant arm in a scripted sling, Lindon faced the Ancestor’s Tomb. It had come through the Wandering Titan’s attack more or less intact.
Part of its roof had caved in, one pillar was cracked, and it was covered with debris like a small town had dumped its garbage all over it.
But Heaven’s Glory must have done their job well when they rebuilt it, because the Tomb still stood.
There were no security measures left around it, all of them having been destroyed either by the trembling earth or roaring winds, so he walked through the front doors of the Tomb easily.
Once he stood inside the open temple-like room, he faced down the sealed door at the other end. A mural of the four Dreadgods covered the entrance.
Lindon had learned many things from the Wandering Titan’s memories. Too many things, he would say; it was impossible to process all the impressions, instincts, and thoughts. Dross had been going through them, but