Even with the spirit’s cooperation, it was so powerful that the scripted and sealed vessel in her void key trembled. It was hard even to shut the key itself. She looked back at the men, women, and Blood Shadows all across Redmoon Hall’s cloud fortress. Now that they’d gotten rid of the Remnants and corpses, there was a lot of space left over.
The deck itself was pitted and cracked from the battle, and the fortress wasn’t in great shape. Yerin didn’t know how to fix it, but she knew that when the base was leaking cloud madra with every passing second, something was wrong.
As her perception passed through the entirety of Redmoon Hall, she got a feel for the number of souls remaining onboard. There were thousands. Between two and three thousand, at a rough glance.
Only about three hundred of them had a Blood Shadow, or at least one she could get a sense for. There were probably some other Emissaries of Redmoon Hall scattered over the world, but the battle between the Sage and Herald had given their ranks quite the beating.
In a sense, Redmoon Hall was gone.
Even if she left them to their own devices and the fanatics took over, the cult wouldn’t have the influence or manpower to wreak havoc as they once had. If it came to a conflict, the other Dreadgod cults would have them for breakfast.
But even the thought of abandoning them sent Yerin’s oath tightening around her throat.
On her shoulder, Little Blue gave her a concerned whisper. Kahn Mala looked up at her, waiting for her to make an announcement. She wasn’t the only one; virtually every eye and spiritual sense in the ship was turned to Yerin.
Yerin stretched out her Goldsigns and muttered, “Fine. You want me to hold the torch, I’ll wave it ‘till it goes out.”
Little Blue gave a quiet cheer.
Yerin tucked her red streak of hair behind one ear and cycled madra to her eyes so they’d glow the color of blood. Her scarlet Goldsigns caught the light of the rising sun, and she rested a hand on Netherclaw’s hilt at her belt.
“We’re going to milk the Phoenix dry of whatever we can get,” Yerin announced. “If that cuts you along the wrong edge, you can get out of here now.”
Several Emissaries shifted uncomfortably. None moved.
“Not going to kill you for that. Just get gone.”
Several refused to meet her eye.
“Oh, bleed and bury me. If you think I’m going to pull sword on you at every second breeze, why would you want to stay here?”
A few members of Redmoon Hall looked to one another.
“I’ve got to be more stable than your last leader,” Yerin pointed out.
At least three Emissaries nodded before catching themselves. A couple bolted, hurling themselves off the edge of the deck. Yerin just watched them go. They were making fools of themselves, running like chickens from a fox when she didn’t have half a thought of chasing after them.
She tapped fingers on her sword as everyone watched her. “Who else? I’m not all testy and twitching now, but if I wake up tomorrow and find you trying to fly away, that’s when we’re going to have a sharp discussion.”
One more woman hopped onto a Thousand-Mile Cloud and flew away. She morphed her Blood Shadow into a shield and held it behind her as though to catch Yerin’s attack.
But she was an Underlord. If Yerin sent a Striker technique after her, there would be nothing left of the Emissary but mist and regret.
“I’m not aching to waste another day, so I’m going to guess the rest of you are with me,” Yerin said. There were more left than she expected; only a handful had run away.
Most of the rest probably didn’t have anywhere else to go.
“I can tell you what’s coming up quick. My—uh, the Void Sage is going to meet up with us. He’ll take us back to the Blackflame Empire, where he’ll count every last scale and splinter aboard.” At least Yerin was getting to loot Redmoon Hall after all. If not exactly in the way she’d imagined. “After that, we’re going after the Phoenix. We’re aiming to tear it to feathers, and every one of you gets a piece.”
There was a chorus of horrified whispers all around the deck.
“How are the sect resources distributed?” Kahn Mala asked pointedly.
Yerin let out a breath. “I’ve been in this seat for a breath and a half. Looks like we’ve got one Archlord left besides you, so the two of you are about to run the sect. That’s clear as new glass. You can tell me what needs to be done and who needs to be put where, or you can make my day brighter and do it yourselves.”
Yerin could feel the doubt radiating from the others like a new aspect of aura. For most of her life she’d looked for any excuse to shove everyone wearing a Redmoon Hall robe into the nearest oven, but facing down their stares was still a special kind of uncomfortable.