Bloodline (Cradle #9) - Will Wight Page 0,25

Shadow, but now it suited her madra better.

Now that she and Ruby had merged. Which still made Lindon feel…strange.

Yerin’s gleaming scarlet sword-arms withdrew, sliding like liquid into her back. The lock of red in her hair shone slightly as she focused on the tip of her sword.

And if Mercy had added a touch of weight to her arrow with her will, this attack struck Lindon’s new senses as though Yerin had strapped a boulder to the end of her weapon.

Silver-and-red light swirled around the blade, and Lindon recognized the technique she was forming: the Final Sword.

But it was rougher, less controlled than it had been before. Not only had they developed it as a pure sword technique, but she had lost the connection to the Sword Icon that had made the technique possible before.

Ruby had figured out a version of the Final Sword with her blood madra, but it had always been weaker than Yerin’s. It looked like now, Yerin was compensating for her lack of experience in the aspect with pure, overwhelming power.

In fact…

Just from standing next to Yerin, Lindon was buffeted with force beyond the physical. Ziel had planted his feet, Mercy held a hand across her eyes, and Eithan cleared his throat.

“Yerin, perhaps we might reconsider—”

She unleashed the technique.

A beam of gleaming red-chrome energy shot forward from Yerin. It was rough like a river, not as smooth as black dragon’s breath or sword-shaped like the former version of the Final Sword. It sounded like a long, ongoing explosion. Like a roar.

And it was wider than Yerin’s entire body.

Where the passage of Mercy’s technique had uprooted some grass, this one tore up a large trench of soil. The flock of venomous birds was aimed at their fortress, and the Final Sword speared through the center of them all.

Those in the middle were wiped out, of course, but power flickered out from the edges of the technique, whipping nearby birds from the air like lashes of liquid lightning.

After only a few seconds, the technique faded.

There was only one bird left, a straggler that had flapped heavily beneath the rest of its brethren. It let out a loud squawk and hauled itself in the other direction.

Yerin gave a long, low whistle as she limbered up her shoulder. “Now that fits like a good sheath.”

Eithan ran a comb through his messy hair. “That, ladies and gentlemen, illustrates the strength of Heralds. While Sages focus their willpower outside of themselves, to make changes to the world directly, Heralds focus it inwardly. They enhance their own power beyond all limitations.”

Lindon was already thinking about how he might do something similar. “And that involves fusing with your own Remnant?”

“Might be my ears are still tickling, but it sounds like you’re thinking about trying it,” Yerin said.

“Are you trying to be the world’s first Underlord Monarch, Lindon?” Eithan asked curiously. “You know, if you tried that, I’m fairly certain you would fail before your spirit and body collapsed in on themselves like a burning house. But I’ve been wrong before. Maybe you’d make it all the way to the collapse.”

Mercy gestured with Suu, which was now back in staff form. “That brings up another good point. Why are you still an Underlord, Lindon?”

In fact, Lindon had almost advanced the night before.

When he had found out they were supposed to stay in the Ninecloud Court one night longer than he wanted to, he had planned to immediately advance. He was sure he had his revelation figured out, and if not…well, the insight required to touch the Void Icon had to be harder than the one to reach Overlord.

But he and Dross had done some research.

“We looked up what Charity told us,” he said. “If we’re heading into the suppression field around Sacred Valley, it’s more of an advantage not to advance. The more advanced you are, the more it takes from you.”

“I will expect you all to carry me like a rescued princess,” Eithan declared.

Mercy gave Lindon a sympathetic look. “Was it hard for you?”

“Had to take his void key,” Yerin said. “Starting out, he told me not to let him advance, but he kept talking excuses. ‘What if I don’t get another chance?’ ‘I just want to see if I have the revelation right.’”

“I wasn’t lying,” Lindon protested.

Dross’ voice came into their heads, muffled slightly by distance. [Yes, he was.]

“Lindon’s cruel deceptions aside, it looks like we’re out of targets,” Eithan said. “The rest of us will have to wait for another chance.”

Some of the

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