Three weeks later, when they discovered that the Dragon River was starting to dry up, they blamed the change on the Dreadgod’s attack. The Valley had been reshaped by that monster, and besides, at least they were better off than the Golden Sword school. Their mountain was still intact.
So they continued their lives as the power in their water faded, day by day.
The Sage of Red Faith was not the most precise when it came to spatial transportation under his own power. He preferred using a tool, and this was one more benefit of his cooperation with Reigan Shen: the lion had plenty of tools to spare.
A gatekey brought him back to the cloud fortress that was Redmoon Hall’s mobile headquarters. The massive ship hovered over mountains somewhere in the western Ashwind continent; he couldn’t be bothered to determine their location any further.
He strode across the dark wood of the deck as Emissaries and agents of Redmoon Hall saluted him. Men and women in dark robes marked with a red moon. Most of them had their Shadows wrapped around their weapons, and with a few here and there keeping their Shadows in the form of a sacred beast or twisted monster.
Red Faith didn’t acknowledge those who saluted him, and they were wise enough to move out of his way. A young man with a Shadow in the form of a bushy-tailed crystalline fox bowed with fists pressed together, and Red Faith could feel sincere gratitude.
This was one of their most recent recruits, a young Truegold who had reached Underlord quickly thanks to Red Faith’s tutelage and sponsorship of his Shadow. Not long ago, Red Faith would have valued him highly, thinking of him as an investment in the research.
Now, he was useless. They were all useless.
Red Faith chewed on the knuckle of his thumb to calm himself down. They weren’t useless. They still had utility.
Anything could be used if it brought him closer to Yerin Arelius.
Lower-ranking agents ushered him down past the top few decks to the ballroom-sized audience hall where Red Faith’s Blood Shadow held court. Like a puppet pretending to be a king.
The entry to the audience hall was tall and wide enough to make one forget it was inside a ship, and the two agents on the doors hurried to open the towering double doors before Red Faith had to trouble himself.
But he was in a hurry, so he simply ordered them to open. They swung inward, pulling away from the hands of the agents.
The audience hall was cavernous—a waste of space bent to satisfy the arrogance of their sect’s other leader. The Herald of Redmoon Hall had developed a disastrous ego that fully blinded himself to practicality.
For instance, the Herald insisted on being referred to as “Redmoon.” How needlessly confusing. It made far more sense to adopt a title, as Red Faith himself had done.
The Herald hunched on a throne at the end of the hall, an inverted mirror of the Sage, scarlet where he was pale. While Red Faith had lost color in his skin and hair, his former Blood Shadow was all red. Bright scarlet hair trailing down his back, pink skin, and crimson eyes. The only spots of white on him were his Goldsigns, rivers of white trailing down from the corners of his eyes as though he wept milk.
Red Faith’s own Goldsigns, bright like trails of blood, made far more sense. And were certainly more useful for intimidating and disconcerting the masses for a psychological advantage.
The Herald had dismissed several Emissaries when he felt the Sage coming, and those Emissaries saluted with their red-covered weapons before they left the room. Red Faith barely saw them. He was fixed on his opposite. His failed clone.
“You’re wasting your time on this farce?” Red Faith demanded as the doors shut behind him. “That you remain here instead of hunting for Yerin Arelius, as I have done, only proves that you do not deserve the independence you stole.”
The Herald, Redmoon, cocked his head to one side. “That you believe searching on your own is more efficient than leveraging an organization establishes to me that you should have ceded to me in our union. The body should always be subordinate to the mind.”
“I am the mind! You are the body!” Red Faith wanted to scratch his own eyes out. “The Sage advances through understanding, and the Herald through brute force!”
“Such shallow understanding for one who calls himself a Sage. You were born flesh and bone, while I was born from the spirit. My origin is that of the mind and the soul, and if I were allowed to lead our union, it would be Reigan Shen who begged our support rather than the reverse.”
Red Faith bit into the skin of his hand, letting the taste of blood and the flow of aura calm him. “Let us at least agree that the perfect fusion is our highest priority.”