It didn’t break the skin.
A Herald was only invulnerable to forces without will behind them, not to attacks. In theory, Little Blue could stab him.
But his body was still as tough as an Archlord’s. This halfhearted assault was nothing to him.
He moved his hand to crush Blue, and Yerin focused desperately on the spearhead. Her willpower wouldn’t help much unless she was the one wielding the spear, but it would be better than nothing.
Little Blue shuddered, and then she shouted a single high whistle. Gripping the spear with both hands, she filled the spear with pure madra.
Lindon’s madra.
The spear shone blue-white, and for a moment, was as powerful as an attack from an Archlord. The pure madra pushed other powers back…and plunged into the Herald’s side.
That lasted for an instant. Until red light flowed through the hunger spear and hit Little Blue like a kick from a horse.
She shot backwards and tumbled across the deck, her whole body turning purple. Redmoon screamed as he convulsed, and though the spear fell away, the injury didn’t heal.
The pressure on the entire ship loosened a little. The Emissaries gave one gasp together.
“He’s using his body as a medium for the Phoenix to reach us,” Red Faith explained, but Yerin had already grasped that the Phoenix’s technique and Redmoon were connected somehow.
Didn’t need to be a Sage to figure that one out.
Yerin appeared over Redmoon in a flash of light and plunged her black sword down onto his chest.
He reached a hand up and grabbed it.
Pink eyes blazed. Even weakened as he was, even wounded, he was still a full Herald. An old one. “Phoenix!” Redmoon cried.
Yerin didn’t need Red Faith’s advice to know she shouldn’t let him do any more.
With her foot, she hooked the hunger spear and kicked it into him again.
This time, it pierced all the way into his chest. His madra flowed from his body and into her, slamming into Yerin as hard as it had hit Little Blue…but she didn’t back up. She stomped the butt of the spear, shoving it deeper. Yerin accepted his power, guiding the flood, letting it swell her core and her channels.
The Blood Sage pushed her away as his twin was starting to look like a thousand-year corpse. “Mine,” he said viciously. Then he grabbed the spear with both hands and pushed it even deeper inside.
Yerin wobbled across the deck. She didn’t mind; if she’d taken any more power from the Herald, she wouldn’t be able to balance it out with sword madra.
And she had someone else to worry about.
Little Blue was twisting in pain, but she gave off a much heavier power than ever before. She looked more solid, shone brighter, and even swelled larger at times. But she was still purple, the red light clashing with blue inside her.
Yerin fell to her knees and pushed out her will, helping to the blood madra inside the spirit.
“Hold it steady,” Yerin said softly. “I’ve got a grip on you.”
Little Blue cycled her madra with an inner focus that reminded Yerin of Lindon’s Heart of Twin Stars. Slowly, with Yerin’s help, the red inside Little Blue separated out. Yerin had to pull blood madra out and let it fizz to red essence that drifted upward.
That was the portion Little Blue couldn’t handle. Most of it, she digested. Her madra cleansed it, and Lindon’s technique made it a part of her.
Little Blue’s struggle grew easier with every second…as her power grew.
Redmoon had, essentially, been a spirit so advanced that he had grown his own human body. A portion of his power was the best Blue could hope for, and Yerin felt a depth to the Riverseed’s soul that she’d never felt before.
It was hard to rate that strength, exactly. Yerin had felt something similar when she was raising her Blood Shadow. Little Blue had become more real. Denser. More substantial.
Flashes of blue light sparked in the depths of her body, but they slowly came less often. Little Blue collapsed onto her back, and her chest rose and fell as she caught her breath.
“You stable, Blue?”
The Riverseed caught her breath a moment longer. Then she gave a vigorous chime and pushed both fists into the air.
Victory.
14
By the time the sky over Moongrave began to turn gold, the defenders were ready.
Lindon had been fascinated to see the script-circles worked into the foundation of the city, so that all the citizens could contribute to the defense. The combat-capable Golds gathered in buildings designed for the purpose, channeling their madra into great script networks that fueled weapons.
Ancient launcher constructs with the stability of stone rose all over the walls, and Lindon felt a measure of power and authority gathering in them that would rival a strike from Malice.