you to do more than just make platforms. I need you to make a lot of platforms.]
Mercy herded her crowd of Irons to the south. She had gathered up over two hundred of them, according to her Moon’s Eye lens, and they were dragging even more wounded on litters.
It had taken her only minutes to draw so many people together. They had been several groups before, she had just flown over and stopped them from panicking so they could band together.
Under her guidance, they gathered as one. Her guidance and Jai Chen’s, since the Jai girl had formed the largest group before Mercy’s arrival, but Jai Chen was growing more and more concerned about her brother.
Mercy was surprised to find them out here; she had expected them to retreat long before this. She wished they had; she hated to see them so exhausted and soaked in blood. Of course, that described everyone out here except her.
They were about to enter a clutch of trees in which her Lens had spotted a pack of dreadbeasts. She could handle them all herself, but she couldn’t watch every single falling tree and flying rock.
“Keep the wounded on the inside,” Mercy called. “If you have a shield and you’re in the outer ring, raise it up. I’ll clear the trees of dreadbeasts, but cover your eyes and close your ears.”
No one responded. They had all frozen in place.
[Mercy!] Dross shouted, appearing suddenly in front of her. [Sorry, that was loud, wasn’t it? Anyway, we need you.]
Mercy tried to twist and see if she could spot Lindon, who must be in trouble if he was sending Dross, but she couldn’t actually move her body. So Dross was projecting himself into her mind.
Her spiritual perception still worked, and she felt Lindon far behind her. It felt like he was a hundred miles away, but she recognized the dampening effect of the suppression field.
“Is Lindon okay? Did something happen?” When she spoke, she felt like she was moving her mouth, but she supposed she probably wasn’t. It was a strange sensation.
[No, but it’s about to,] Dross responded. [We need you. Against the Titan.]
“Got it.” When time unfroze, Mercy would put Jai Chen in charge and fly back into Sacred Valley.
Dross waved his tendrils in the air as though trying to shoo something away. [I don’t…ah, I don’t exactly know how to say this, but you…oh, well, actually I know exactly how to say this. What I need you to do, it’s going to hurt. A lot. Not permanently, I’m sure. Your family can fix you. They can fix you, right?]
“Yes, they can,” Mercy said firmly.
No matter what Dross wanted her to do, it wouldn’t hurt as badly as seeing Pride so badly hurt. She didn’t want to go through that again, not so soon, and not with Lindon and Yerin.
“What do you need from me?”
[Your bloodline,] Dross said.
“What do you want from me now?” Orthos rumbled.
He didn’t have the non-lethal abilities the others did, so he’d stuck to his strengths: running around and eliminating dreadbeasts, bloodspawn, and piles of debris that blocked the way of the humans fleeing down Mount Samara.
It had been surprisingly fun. And then Dross interrupted him.
[Normally, there’s nothing an Underlord can do to a Dreadgod. But since it’s in Sacred Valley, it’s a little more subject to physical laws—]
“Underlord? Who said I was an Underlord?”
[You…you know Lindon can feel you, right? If Lindon can feel it, I can feel it. He hasn’t been thinking about it, but it’s clear to me that you used the treasures inside Lindon’s void key to advance. That wasn’t supposed to be a surprise, was it?]
If Orthos could move his body, he would have turned away to chew on a nearby rock. Or some nice, soft wood.
[Even the others can sense you,] Dross went on, driving the knife deeper. [You had to know they would all recognize it immediately.]
“There is nothing wrong with a little celebration,” Orthos said with great dignity.
[N-no! No, and in fact, I can make it even better than a surprise! A huge event! You’ll really, ooohhh, you’ll really show them. They’ll say, ‘Underlord Orthos is so great, I can’t believe that we ever cared about him before. I really hate who he used to be. Compared to now, I mean. Just…just hate him.’]
That was possibly the worst sales pitch Orthos had ever heard.