Home > Books > Reaper(Cradle #10)(132)

Reaper(Cradle #10)(132)

Author:Will Wight

“We,” Lindon said, “will never stop.”

Soulfire passed through him like a warm breeze.

His fading lifeline was restored to a roaring river, and his Bloodforged Iron body reached another level. His flesh knitted together…though his hunger arm crumbled completely, unable to handle the new level of energy.

That was all right. He intended to replace it anyway.

His mind was clearer, his body stronger. Even the Void Icon felt closer than ever, and he stared down the Monarch from inches away.

“Adorable,” Reigan Shen said.

His hand flashed out again, and Lindon pitted his will against it. Lindon’s willpower was much stronger now, and the world warped all around them as they struggled against one another.

But this time, Shen broke through and his attack landed. His knuckles cracked against Lindon’s jaw, sending him flying.

Lindon called the Soul Cloak as he flew, twisting to land on his feet. He passed Archlord soulfire through the Hollow Domain, which spread out denser than ever.

“Then I’ll just kill you,” Reigan Shen said.

A Monarch technique thundered through a portal: the water madra filled with shining malicious spirits. It was weakened by the Hollow Domain, but its tide still smashed into Lindon and carried him away.

But Reigan Shen had finished holding back.

Striker techniques flew out like a volley of arrows from every direction except one. Reigan Shen ran up behind Lindon, the water splitting willingly around him, and he held his axe in both hands.

This time, the axe shone with an Enforcer technique.

Lindon struck against it with an Empty Palm, dispersing the madra and borrowing the force from the attack to fly away, but his hand was almost split in half. Even supported by Archlord soulfire, he couldn’t face a Monarch’s attack.

Dross, I hope you’re ready, Lindon thought.

A head-sized ball of purple madra manifested behind Reigan Shen. He was darker than usual this time, almost black, and his crescent grin reminded Lindon of Eithan.

[Information requested,] Dross whispered into Lindon’s mind. [Combat solution against Reigan Shen. Beginning report…]

Information flooded Lindon’s brain, and time froze.

This time, Dross’ voice was soft and papery, almost frightening. [We cannot defeat him, so we fight to flee. Mice before the cat.]

Lindon saw the Burning Cloak spring up around himself. He dashed into the axe, narrowly avoiding the Monarch’s blow.

Some Striker techniques hunted him, like sharks in the water, but he could see their trajectory. He had to strike some down with pure madra and dodge others, but he made it over to the wall.

[He will unleash his prized possessions as he sees you slither away,] Dross whispered. [We dance on the razor’s edge.]

Lindon saw the things that would emerge from Dross’ portal. Spears of blood and storms of blades. Monarch-level techniques that had not yet been eroded by the labyrinth.

The timing would be thin as a fallen leaf, but he saw himself slapping his hand on the wall and exerting his will. The stone blurred and he ran, just in time.

Lindon took in all the possibilities, and he made his decision.

I have a better idea, he thought.

Dross laughed madly, and time resumed.

Lindon followed the path Dross had laid out. He dodged the lion’s axe with the speed of the Burning Cloak, dashing through a net of Striker techniques. Gold portals yawned wider as he leaped through the air.

He landed in a crouch on the back of Subject One’s throne. What was left of Lindon’s broken hunger arm rested on its stone.

“Begone,” Lindon commanded.

His authority ran through the labyrinth, but Reigan Shen laughed. His golden portals paused, and he waved a hand casually. “Why don’t you begone.”

In the labyrinth, their wills clashed.

Reigan Shen had spent almost a year living here. He had absorbed the Soulsmith inheritance of Ozmanthus Arelius. He was a Monarch in his own right, and he held the core binding of Subject One. His authority over the labyrinth was strong.

Lindon had grown up here. His Void Icon resonated strongly with the power of hunger in the labyrinth. He was the apprentice of one of Ozmanthus’ last descendants. He was only a Sage, but he had the blessing of the Slumbering Wraith. At least, his echo.

He couldn’t tell who had the greater claim over the labyrinth, but he could feel the balance tipping.

Lindon, after all, had given his word to Subject One.

And Reigan Shen had broken his.

All at once, space shifted all around the labyrinth. Pressure pushed down.

And the Monarch vanished.