It was clumsy compared to what a real Underlord could do, like trying to paint while holding the brush with his toes, but at least there wasn’t much any other Truegold could do to him.
He decided to turn the conversation back on Kelsa, at least to regain momentum. “It’s hard for me to reconcile the Lowgold I knew with the Sage and Overlord he is now. It must be even more difficult for you.”
“It’s frightening,” she said simply. “Not just what he can do, but that he only stumbled on the truth by chance. What if he hadn’t made it? What if no one had ever left? We would never have known what the real sacred arts were like, and when the Dreadgod came…”
Jai Long was more than aware. If no one had come to warn the people of Sacred Valley, they would have all died.
“We would still have saved you,” he said, though he wasn’t sure why. He wasn’t even certain it was true.
As soon as he said it, he’d known she wouldn’t let the statement go unchallenged. She liked things to be as objective as possible.
“Would you have had the chance to come west? Would we have met if not for Orthos sensing you?”
No to both, he was certain, but he kept quiet.
Her lips quirked up into a smile. “That was still nice to hear.”
Jai Long wished he hadn’t said anything.
“So what about now that we have met?” Kelsa asked. “What are you going to do now? Are you going to head out into the Blackflame Empire?”
The Empire was probably the worst place for him to blend in, especially the west. And they were heading to Serpent’s Grave. A city he had once helped Jai Daishou to attack.
“Jai Chen likes it here.” She was taking her role as one of the founding members of the Twin Star sect seriously. Too seriously.
“I was asking about you.”
“I can think about the rest after I reach Underlord, now that I have an actual chance.” He had long given up on Underlord…or so he thought before Lindon and Yerin showed up, having casually brushed past the barrier where he had remained stuck for years.
Now, if he didn’t at least break into the Lord realm, he wouldn’t be able to hold his head up.
“What if it doesn’t fix…” Kelsa gestured to his face.
Jai Long had, of course, told her why his head was wrapped up all the time. It was the first question he had to answer if he ever wanted to work with anyone.
Most people understood. Many sacred artists had strange Goldsigns or disfiguring scars. Kelsa had wanted to see immediately, but he had refused. The advancement to Underlord should fix him, or at least get it under his control. That was another source of motivation; Lindon looked like he had aged five years in the best way, and Yerin had lost all her scars. That gave Jai Long hope for himself.
But no one knew what exact changes the soulfire transformation would cause. It could make things worse, and he had been honest about that with Kelsa.
“If Underlord doesn’t work, then I will continue as I always have. And I’ll hope that Overlord heals me.”
Overlord was a legend, and one that he would never have dreamed of reaching before these last few weeks.
Kelsa was staring into his mask so intently that he had to re-focus on his spear. “Just advancement, huh. Seems boring.”
Jai Long sensed someone in the hall heading their way and it provided him an easy escape from the conversation. “My sister’s on her way.”
Kelsa accepted that, leaning back against the wall. But she kept watching him.
For a long, awkward minute and a half.
Just as she said, “Is Jai Chen really—” the door burst open. And two people walked in.
His sister, Jai Chen, wore a set of sacred artists robes trimmed in blue and burnt orange: the colors of the Twin Star sect. She wore the emblem proudly over her heart, and she moved as though it gave her endless energy.
She bounced into the room beaming, and even her companion spirit danced around in midair as though he’d inherited the mood. Fingerling was a serpentine, finger-sized pink dragon that was the manifestation of Jai Chen’s power. To Jai Long’s spiritual senses, he felt like an extension of her power.
But there should be as many as three other souls next to her, and Jai Long had felt nothing.
Lindon ducked as he passed through the doorway, a looming physical presence without the spirit to back it up. From a boy that had looked like he was spoiling for a fight, he had grown into a real Lord. If Jai Long hadn’t known better, he could have been convinced that Lindon was a hundred-year-old expert. Even with his pale right arm bound up in a sling, he looked like he could fight everyone in the room without using any madra.