“I would be delighted.”
When Reigan Shen placed the Titan Core in the north where it belonged, the mountain the locals called Yoma erupted in stone spires.
Even Irons wouldn’t miss a sign like that. Shen flew down the halls of the labyrinth’s upper layer, supported by blue strands of energy emanating from a construct at his belt. The construct wouldn’t last long, but this was the fastest and most economical way of traveling for now.
Subject One’s attacks had intensified, and now there were traps of hunger madra placed in his way, Forger techniques strung across the halls like webs.
If he had been less skilled, he might have fallen for them. But they still slowed him down.
As soon as the pillar of light from the western peak had vanished, he’d put himself on a time limit. And it would only run out faster and faster.
He reached the eastern chamber, buried beneath Mount Samara, and detonated another powerful weapon to carve through the wall. This chamber had been influenced by the Silent Core for hundreds of years, so it should be a trap of powerful light and dream madra.
He could sense that it was, but he couldn’t see anything. Beyond the hole in the wall, he saw only a chaotic jumble of spinning images.
Even his aura sight was useless here, though that had more to do with the suppression field than the complexity of this dream working.
Shen placed a pair of spectacles over his eyes, which should show him the path through this dream formation.
Unfortunately, he saw immediately that this wasn’t a formation so much as a mess. There was no path through; the strong and weak points of the illusion shifted with every second.
So he had no choice.
Reigan focused his willpower again, hating how long it took him, and how weak his authority felt here.
“Flee,” the Monarch commanded.
The fog of deceptive madra and aura parted like a forking river. He dashed through, scooping up the purple-white Silent Core now that he could see it clearly. He had to be quick; there were undoubtedly spirits that had formed inside this environment as well.
He placed the Storm Core on its altar, then ran away as the clouds of dream madra began to flash with lightning.
From this moment, the ring of the mountain ahead would start to change.
This was his last step, and then he could proceed into the true depths of the labyrinth.
Reigan Shen flooded his madra through his flight construct, shattering it almost immediately. Three of the four Cores had been returned to their proper places. Once he placed the Silent Core in the chamber, all of Sacred Valley would change.
No, the world would change.
The messenger constructs finally returned to Lindon. Most were shaped like butterflies of various colors, though some resembled birds, clouds of sparks, or mechanical flying machines.
Some of the faster ones had returned already, but he’d sent them out at roughly the same time, so he expected them to arrive more or less at once.
He listened to each message. Some constructs bore recorded messages from human scouts, others pinged yes or no to tell him if they’d seen what he’d sent them to look for, and still others gave their own rudimentary opinion like a Remnant’s.
When they finished, Lindon summarized the information and brought it to Eithan.
He found the Archlord waiting right outside of Lindon’s house on Windfall.
“You could have deactivated the ward against me,” Eithan pointed out. “Then I would already know what you have to say.”
“Apologies, it…slipped my mind.” That was a lie that fooled no one; Lindon didn’t want to set a precedent of allowing Eithan to spy on his home. “There’s so much activity in and around Sacred Valley, it’s hard to pinpoint anything. There’s a new entrance into the labyrinth, some strange Remnants have popped up with aspects no one can recognize, the orus trees on Mount Yoma have started to wither, a tribe of outsiders from the south came into the valley to conquer but left as soon as the suppression field set in…”
Lindon spread his hands. If he had to rely on notes, he would have waved them in the air. “I don’t know what to look for. There’s too much.”
Eithan frowned into the distance. “Keep going.”
“Dreadbeasts are gathering outside the valley. Some people say Samara’s ring is dimmer, or its light is less consistent. Almost certainly damage from the—"
Eithan cut him off without a word. His entire aspect had become cold. “The ring around the mountain to the east? Did they report a change in color? Sparks?”
“Sparks, yes. One report said the light “crackled” now. But color, I don’t know. We’ll be able to see for ourselves tomorrow, though.”