Sophara’s claws hammered down on Yerin’s sword, the force of the Underlady’s blows pushing Yerin backwards on the stone floor. Her Goldsigns intertwined with her white sword, never stopping as they held off claws and tails, sparks raining down everywhere.

Sophara was in her dragon form, her serpentine golden body flashing with scales as she pushed her palm forward, releasing a Flowing Flame Striker technique.

Yerin shielded herself in a cage of sword arms and sword aura, waves of golden fire trapping her in a furnace. Her spirit warned her of danger as Sophara’s tail slashed upwards, opening her cage of sword-arms up. As Sophara’s claws reached for her throat, Yerin’s sword-arms stabbed into the ground, pulling her down like a crouching spider.

Laying on the ground, Yerin rolled away, Sophara’s tail swipes coming down again and again and crushing the floor. Sophara changed tactics, her tail slamming down and sliding sideways. Yerin’s Goldsigns pushed herself off the ground, balancing on her hands as she poured madra into her Steelborn Iron body to hold herself up.

The tail swung for her hands, and she pushed herself off the ground as the tail slid under her fingers; while Yerin was still upside-down in the air, the tail shot up under her, and Yerin’s sword-arms waved in the air, blocking the tail and Sophara’s punches.

Yerin unleashed the Endless Sword, the force pushing herself backwards as she landed on her feet. Forged discs of golden madra shielded Sophara as she charged forward. Yerin slashed out a Rippling Sword, cutting a line from the floor to the ceiling. It struck Sophara, blood spurting.

Sophara never stopped moving as she ripped into Yerin. Sword-arms closed around Yerin in a cage, but Sophara’s jaws bit into them. She shook her jaws, shaking Yerin’s cage like a shark and ripping her sword-arms away. Yerin had a moment to see the pale light shining from Sophara’s eyes: ghostwater.

Then Sophara grabbed her face and burned it off with Flowing Flame.

***

Yerin groaned as she was pulled away from the model, the vision shimmering away.

[Hey, you almost had her!] Dross put in. [If you used your Blood Shadow, you would have actually been able to do something useful!]

He floated above her, clapping his small arms together. Little Blue sat on top of Dross, giving Yerin an encouraging shout.

Lindon smiled in reassurance. “Your time is better than mine ever was.”

Yerin sat in a cycling position next to the artificial waterfall in her personal training room. Sweat poured down her face even though she hadn’t really been moving.

She rubbed her arms as she went up to her feet, shuddering as she imagined Sophara’s claws sinking into her skin. She didn’t know if she would end up fighting Sophara in the tournament, but if Yerin wanted to win, she would have to at some point.

Thanks to Northstrider upgrading Dross, the mind-spirit was now able to model for other sacred artists just like he did with Lindon. Even though Lindon was no longer a participant in the Uncrowned King Tournament, he was willing to provide his friends with as much help as they needed.

Yerin let out a breath, trying to take her mind off Sophara and the anxious butterflies in her stomach. “How’s Mercy doing?”

Lindon looked down. “She’s worried about her mother. Pride and the other Underlords left to combat Abyssal Palace. Mercy wanted to help, but she has to stay here….. to win.”

There was awkward silence afterwards. Lindon’s eyes widened, holding up his hands. “I mean, as long as any of the Akura teams win, we’re all good. Eithan or you or Mercy. That would help ensure her mother’s survival.”

Yerin nodded. “Sophara cannot be allowed to win.” She sheathed her blade, her other black sword sheathed on her other side. “And I’m not planning on losing.”

Lindon smiled at her, and she responded in kind.

Her long hair really suits her, Lindon thought.

Yerin looked down, her smile slowly sliding away. “The Wandering Titan… is it close to your home?”

Lindon winced. Reports had come in that the Wandering Titan had risen from the ocean, making its way through Akura territory.

He remembered the future Suriel had shown him. She had shown him how Sacred Valley would be destroyed in the future. A monstrous creature that towered into the clouds, wading through the mountains as if they were waves. It would bury the valley in earth, wiping everything out.

Could that Dreadgod have been the Wandering Titan? Was that future beginning already? Suriel had told him he still had many years left. But with Reigan Shen talking about leading the Dreadgods to the western labyrinth and trapping them inside, that reality seemed to be getting closer. If the Monarchs listened to the Emperor of Lions, the Dreadgods would tear through the Akura territory, coming to Sacred Valley.

His home would be decimated.

“Not yet. But if it does, I will head over to evacuate them.”

Yerin nodded. “You still have to let me meet your family. They’ll be safe.”

She put a hand on his shoulder.

[Speaking of Mercy….] Dross interjected.

Yerin pulled her arm away as Lindon turned to see the Ninecloud servants in multi-colored robes opening the door, letting in a girl with purple eyes and black hair pulled back in a ponytail.

She waved. “Hi guys.”

Her smile was bright and carefree as always. She held her staff behind her back, her eyes gleaming mischievously. But Lindon noticed the tension in her steps. Her dragon staff reflected the tension, hissing.

She stopped in front of them, looking between the two of them. Her beam grew wide, looking childish. “Soooo….”

Lindon nervously shifted, knowing what she was going to ask.

“How was dinner with you guys last night?”

Lindon coughed. “Oh, we discussed Yerin’s training. Min Shuei has been helping her further develop the Sword Icon.”

Mercy smacked his head with her staff.

“Silly, I’m talking about dinner. You know, relaxing time?”

[What’s relaxing time? That sounds nice!]

“We talked about the Sword Icon,” said Yerin simply.

Mercy closed her eyes, controlling her breathing.

“How…. Romantic.”

Her dragon staff shook its head pathetically.

Dross pretended to wipe a tear from his eye. [They grow up so fast, don’t they?]

“Be gone!”

The voice interrupted from above. Lindon and Yerin cycled their madra, prepared to take down the intruder.

Eithan dropped down from the ceiling, causing Mercy to shout out and drop her staff. The Ninecloud servants dropped their trays, screaming and holding their mouths.

[Ah!] Shouted Dross.

Lindon frowned.

Dross, why are you surprised?

[Well, everyone else reacted surprised. I don’t want to feel left out.]

Eithan clapped his hands, looking down on Yerin and Lindon. “Be gone demon. Have no hold on these two pure souls.”

He began to dance around them.

Yerin bumped Lindon’s shoulder. “This is too weird even for Eithan.” She whispered.

Lindon nodded, whispering back. “Don’t make any sudden movements. It might make it worse.”

Even Mercy looked at Eithan with confusion, holding up her staff as if to ward him off.

Dross smiled at the sight, Little Blue tilting her head and letting out a questioning chime.

Eithan finally stopped by putting his arms around both his students.

“Phew. No more evil thoughts, okay? I want you two thinking only about training.” He made a scornful face. “No one has time for relaxing time. I mean, maybe Monarchs do. Or the dead.”

Mercy’s face fell. “You know, relaxing is actually very good for the soul. For example, I love curling up next to a warm fire and—"

“Shoo, shoo.” Eithan interrupted. “I want to have a word with Yerin.”

Lindon and Mercy glanced at each other.

Yerin crossed her arms. “You can say it now.”

Eithan waved his hand. “Of course. Of course. So, I was spying on you guy’s last night, and I really think that conversation you had at the fountain—oh, how rude.”

Yerin’s Goldsigns slashed at his neck as Eithan stepped to the side, dodging. He stepped to the other side as he dodged another swipe.

“I was going to suggest you accept the Blood Sage’s training request. He could help you with your Blood Shadow.”

Yerin crossed her arms. She had been offered a choice to train with the Winter Sage or the Blood Sage. She had already begun taking instructions from Min Shuei. But the Blood Sage was still offering her a chance to join him.

Eithan pointed his finger to one side. “I mean, you can choose to make up with your dead master’s finance and begin a sisterhood/friendship that would last forever.”

[Well that seems like the obvious choice.]

The Arelius Underlord pointed his finger to the other side. “Or you can train with the hated Blood Sage and upgrade your Blood Shadow to be an amazing force of pure annihilation.”

[What! No way!]

He shrugged his shoulders. “Totally up to you.”

Dross groaned, grabbing his head with his arms.

[This is so hard! Friends are cool, but annihilation sounds so much cooler! Agh, you strike a hard bargain!]

Little Blue copied him with her arms, letting out a pattern of chattering bells and chimes.

Meanwhile, crumbs of sand began to drop from the ceiling. No one noticed.

Yerin glared at Eithan. “I’ll make up my mind when I make up my mind.”

Lindon and Mercy glanced at each other again.

Mercy laughed, rubbing her head. “Oh, ok, maybe we should leave. This sounds important.”

Lindon nodded. “Yerin, I’ll see you later.”

Yerin stared at them desperately. “Don’t leave me with him.”

Eithan made an offended noise. “It heartens me to know you respect me, Yerin.”

The sand on the ceiling began to come together.

Eithan looked up, his smiling fading into a look of cold steel.

Immediately, Mercy, Lindon, and Yerin unleashed their veils. Yerin unleashed the Endless Sword, Lindon shot out a dragon’s breath, and Mercy fired String of Shadows.

A portal of golden sand appeared, swallowing the attacks. The sand fell like a waterfall, falling onto Yerin. Eithan looked at Yerin, shouting out.

“No!”

He tried to grab for her, but the sand already reached her. When the sand pooled on the ground, glittering, Yerin was already gone. Eithan turned to the others, looking at the spot where Mercy had been standing moments ago.

It was now just a pile of sand as well.

***

Yerin found herself in a room of golden sand, small and circular with one hallway serving as an entrance.

The floors were hardened sand, patterned with strange symbols portrayed to resemble dragons. The walls were made of sand as well, flowing down to join with the ground as if made of water.

Above, the sand began to gather into the shape of a head. When it finished, it was revealed to be a giant Forged dragon head made of golden sand. It was on fire, burning with what looked like Flowing Flame madra. Its eyes were golden dragon eyes with vertically slitted pupils.

This being was called many names, including Desert-bringer, the Breath of Destruction, and the Eternal Sandstorm. She was Xorrus, the left-hand of the Dragon Monarch. The Herald practiced the Path of the Burning Wasteland, a mixture of Flowing Flame and the Dragon’s King Path of the Wasteland.

“Yerin, former disciple of the Sword Sage,” she hissed. “The Dragon King has decided to test your worth. You have been invited to participate in my …. personal play pen. Are you worthy to participate?” Xorrus smiled. “Either you are, able to leave with your life intact after performing to satisfaction. Or you will die from being too weak.”

Yerin swung her sword up as her answer. She wasn’t going to play along with their games like she was some chest piece on a board. Her blade glinted like ice, a gift from the Winter Sage to her dead master. Her madra filled it, a crescent Rippling Sword emerging.

Instead of the Striker technique launching outwards to hit the replica of Xorrus’s head, it shattered away into silver specks. Her sword stopped mid-swing as if hitting an invisible wall. Yerin turned, seeing that her blade was held in a hand of claws, a tail flickering behind the figure.

Sophara had caught the blade, landing next to her.

The Underlady’s scaly hair fell back like chains, her robes and jewelry settling around her. Her golden dragon eyes looked at Yerin from the side, her cheeks scaly and reflecting the golden torches. A hint of a smile touched her lips.

Yerin’s face wrenched into a shout as she exploded with the Endless Sword.

Her Ruler technique was about to reach Sophara when it instead struck Sophara’s Forged shield of golden madra, sounding like a ringing bell. Invisible blades scratched against the shield, unable to reach the golden dragon. Lines cut into the sand around her, bringing up small bursts of sand.

Behind her shield, Sophara pushed, and the shield rushed at Yerin like a wall. The Sword Sage’s disciple swung down with her sword. She split the shield in the middle as the golden scorching pieces rolled past her. Yerin stabbed forward with her sword-arms, releasing sword madra at the spot where Sophara would have been. Instead, the splitting of the shield revealed empty air and dying embers.

Sophara was nowhere to be seen, only piece of her jewelry falling. Yerin’s perception warned her of the danger as she turned as her left. A tail smashed into her sword-arms as Sophara let out a storm of Flowing Flame.

She blocked the flames with the edge of her sword, the Archlord icy blade combating the flames. Sophara knocked Yerin’s Goldsigns away with her tail and claws, knocking Yerin back until she slammed into the flowing sandy wall.

The sand looked like liquid, but it was still a wall, preventing Yerin from falling through. It burned her skin like fire though, the sandy rocks falling down her smoking robes and drawing thin lines of blood down her back.

Sophara Forged a golden whip in her hand, flicking it forward. Yerin’s Goldsigns stabbed into the wall and pushed her up and over the whip. It seemed to have a life of its own as it curled upwards, following her trajectory. Yerin tucked her knees in to her chest, making herself into a ball, spinning, her Goldsigns sticking out like porcupine quills.

Her madra filled them with the Flowing Sword, their strength increasing as they cut through the whip. Yerin continued spinning towards Sophara, unleashing the Endless Sword. Blood rushed up in thin lines across Sophara’s body as scratches covered the room.

A round plate of bronze emerged from behind Sophara, whistling through the air. The shield knocked Yerin back in a jet of sparks, and she was pushed away. Yerin landed on her feet, only to find Sophara’s face inches from her own, her teeth flashing.

“Pitiful.”

Sopahra’s claw enveloped Yerin’s face, lighting up with a plume of Flowing Flame as the dragon-girl threw Yerin through the wall.

The Striker technique left a mushroom cloud of golden fire as Yerin flew, the fire setting her clothes on fire. When she crashed through the wall, it felt like she had been dragged against rough jagged burning blades. She screamed as she rolled into the new room, the hole she had made in the sand wall healing.

Yerin’s soulfire brushed the fire aura away from her. She had protected herself with sword aura at the last second, saving herself from sustaining horrible burns. As Yerin’s eyes accustomed to the dark surroundings, she looked around.

The room was almost pitch black, also made of golden sand. Imprinted in the walls were golden coffins, and veins of golden madra poured out from them in an intricate pattern. These lines of golden madra covered the entire room, giving a faintly glow that held of the darkness.

Yerin spotted an exit, a long dark tunnel lit with torches. The torches were held in the mouth of skeletal dragon heads mounted on the hallway walls. She was just getting up for the exit when her perception warned her of the danger.

Two dragon eyes opened from within the sand behind Yerin, catching her attention.

Sophara’s golden eyes glowed in the dark as her face slid out. They were followed by her claws. She emerged slowly, sand pouring away from her hair like water. Her emergence looked effortless and graceful, her tail strutting out behind her.

As she walked completely out of the sand, she seemed unaffected by the burning sand. Flowing Flame covered her in her Enforcer technique, protecting her. She lit the dark room like a bonfire, her jewelry and the golden sand all around sparkling in the light.

Yerin stood up on shaky legs, her skin still burning. She raised her sword.

Nothing like a fight to the death to make sure your sword stays sharp, thought Yerin. It was one of the lessons Adama had taught her as child.

“I thought the Sword Sage’s disciple would have more bite,” growled Sophara. “I see he was a fool. No wonder he’s dead.”

Yerin crouched with her sword, staring down Sophara.

She wouldn’t just prove herself to Sophara, or to Xorrus, or even to the Dragon Monarch. No, she wouldn’t stop here. She would prove herself to the whole world in the Uncrowned King Tournament, making Adama proud.

“The mention of my master does not belong on your filthy mouth.”

The dragon Underlady snarled as she dashed forward, kicking up sand.

That was when the ceiling shattered as a figure crashed in, making a smoke cloud.

Sophara and Yerin jumped back, looking up to see golden light rushing in. It looked like a room made of gold, every inch of it on fire. The heat of the fire was suffocating, soaking into the dark room.

Under the hole, sand fizzled as droplets of fire rained down. Yerin’s senses told her the figure was still alive and standing up. As the smoke cleared away, the ceiling sealed up, enclosing the room back in darkness and cooler air.

Yerin smirked as she saw who it was.

Akura Mercy wore her crystal armor, standing on top of a struggling…. Sophara.

It was a clone of golden sand, a perfect replica of Sophara. She was in Sophara’s dragon form, the detail of the scales and ridges matched the real Sophara.

The sand clone was currently wrapped in webs of black madra. She struggled, ripping its limbs free and tearing the binding around her mouth. She roared as she finally opened her jaws, the shadow madra tearing away in dribbles.

Mercy held her bow in one hand, her crystal armor shining. She stuck an arrow into the clone’s face and wrapped the jaws in shadow again.

She banished her helmet, revealing her sweaty face. Her Archlord lens hung over her left eye, glistening with perspiration. One of her eyes was bruised, and scratch marks covered her neck.

She looked around in confusion, looking everywhere in quick glances. She put her fingers over her mouth, muttering.

“Woah, where am I know?” She spoke cheerfully, as if she had just gotten back from a nice stroll. Her face lit up as she saw Yerin, waving enthusiastically.

“Oh, you’re here too!” She gasped.

Before Yerin could respond, Sophara was behind Mercy, her tail curling around Mercy’s neck. Sophara stepped backwards as six arrows crashed into her face, moving so fast Yerin had only followed along thanks to her enhanced spiritual perception.

Mercy turned around, letting loose another volley of arrows. Sophara’s tail swept them away in a circle before shooting forward to wrap around Mercy’s armored arm. Sophara pulled Mercy into her flaming fist.

Mercy’s helmet materialized for the second it took to block the punch as she was pounded into the sand, her back sinking into the floor. She had sunken in almost completely; only her legs, arms, and head stuck out.

She coughed, frowning. She looked over at Yerin from the ground as the helmet vanished, looking dazed and bleeding from her nose.

“Oops, looks like the clone’s weaker than the original.”

Sophara roared at Mercy, unleashing a beam of golden fire. Strings of Shadow appeared from the ceiling, attaching onto Mercy, and pulling up. Sophara followed Mercy to the ceiling with the Striker technique.

Mercy fired a swirling black arrow filled with Nightworm Venom from the ceiling. Sophara moved her head to the side to dodge. As it passed by her hair, it expanded at the last second into a swathe of shadow that began to envelop her.

The blanket hissed with venom, dripping poisonous liquid that drilled into the sandy floor with smoke. Flowing Flame tore it apart before it fully engulfed Sophara, but Mercy was already skidding through the sand. She reached Sophara, closing one eye as she fired her arrow.

Sophara caught it with one hand before it pierced her throat, her hair and robes swishing. She kicked up sand as her foot glowed orange, slamming into Mercy. The Akura girl brought her bow up to block, the force kicking her back into the air.

As Sophara burned away Mercy’s madra, Mercy landed next to Yerin.

“Hey, I thought… we were supposed to be taking a break… from training.” She panted.

Yerin raised her sword and sword-arms. “We can talk after she’s dead.”

The golden dragon Underlady scoffed at their ignorance. She could advance to Overlady whenever she wanted after having taken the Gate of Heaven elixir. But she didn’t need it for this. She would destroy Lindon’s friends, watching in satisfaction when he discovered their burnt remains.

The Sophara sand clone Mercy had tied in shadow earlier finally broke free, extending her wings.

When Mercy had first appeared in Xorrus’s domain, she had been ordered by the Herald to fight against this Forged construct of sand. It had been made by Xorrus, life breathed into the technique with her Dragon Icon. It could use the same techniques as Sophara, utilizing Flowing Flame. Something told Mercy the Dragon King himself had played a part in its creation, for its power was as close to Sophara as possible.

The clone turned to Mercy, opening her sandy jaws to reveal a ball of Flowing Flame.

“Stop,” ordered Xorrus’s voice. Her voice echoed through the room, and the Sophara clone bowed. The real Sophara bowed her head as well, keeping her eyes on Yerin. “The Dragon King wishes to see these two in action together.”

The Sophara clone growled, giving Mercy a dusty death glare. The clone melted back into the sand, gathering in a golden puddle that merged with the sand.

Mercy waved goodbye, only for a golden disc to spin for her hand. She dropped down clumsily, letting out a tiny shriek.

“Hey, watch out! You’re going to take someone’s head off with that!”

Sophara Forged more discs of Flowing Flame behind her, spinning it place. At her direction, they shot out in the air.

Yerin ducked as one stabbed into the wall behind her, catching another on her sword tip as it spun in place, shooting sparks. Yerin twisted around, throwing the disc back to whack back another disc coming for her. Her sword-arms curled around her as she flipped and weaved, metal discs slamming away. Some pierced the ceiling and floor underneath her. Her Goldsigns arched back, swirling with the Endless Sword. A gong-blast later, the discs were knocked away from the Sword Sage’s disciple.

Mercy released her arrows, tying up the discs together and kicking others away. She noticed Sophara running in among the discs. Mercy focused with her Archlord lens, pulling back her arrow.

Page Four: Dream of Darkness.

The arrow hit the discs, zipping in between like a ping ball. More arrows were added, the discs clinking like metal where the arrows struck. The whole room soon filled with discs, bouncing flying arrows, and sword aura.

The arrows leapt towards Sophara as she dashed forward, her golden form moving in a zigzag as the sand was pierced by arrows. She weaved like a snake, flowing through the sand, her tail sliding on the ground behind her. When she drew closer to Yerin, Sophara released a wave of Flowing Flame and blew away all the arrows and discs.

The ground burst under her as she sprung Mercy’s trap, a rigged shadow wire. It wrapped around Sophara’s body, enveloping her in a bondage of shadow. Sophara blasted it away, and ducked Yerin’s Rippling Sword.

Yerin jumped and landed next to Sophara, pivoting on her feet to hit Sophara in the back with the full force of her Steelborn Iron body. Sophara slid forward into the second trap, and ropes of shadow shot from the floor and ceiling. It wrapped her arms and legs up. Sophara’s tail flickered and tore herself free, hearing Yerin running behind her.

Yerin slashed her sword down, shooting up a cascade of sand. Sophara smirked as she jumped to the side. That was weaker than before, and her aim was wide off. Yerin was reaching her limit. She would soon end up like Adama, and the Path of the Endless Sword would be lost forever.

As quickly as the sand rushed up like a wall, it began to fall in a golden heap. Yerin ran to Sophara, meeting her tail with her blade. Sophara’s tail scraped against Yerin’s sword in sparks, flicking Yerin away.

Flowing Flame spun around Sophara in spiraling lines, protecting the dragon-girl from Mercy’s arrows coming from behind. At the same time fireballs of Flowing Flame were released.

Yerin covered herself in her sword-arms, the ends coming together in one point in front of her that met the fireballs. She tore through most with the Endless Sword swirling in front of her like a cyclone, protecting Yerin save for mild burns as she jumped over Sophara in an arc.

Sophara caught Yerin with her tail in the air, wrapping around her waist. Shea yanked Yerin down, her claws burning with Flowing Flame as they came for her.

That was when Sophara noticed Yerin’s second black sword was missing. The sand wall Yerin had made was still falling, cascading down in a wave. Out of the corner of Sophara’s eyes, she saw a glint of red.

Sophara turned to see the red grinning face peering through the falling sand, followed by a black sword.

Yerin’s Blood Shadow pierced Sophara in the shoulder, a bloody Endless Sword enveloping the dragon-girl. Yerin unleashed her own Ruler technique as well. Rows of bloody lines covered Sophara, spraying into the air. Bits of her scaly hair hit the ground in metallic clinks.

Sophara threw Yerin away with her tail as the lines of spiraling Flowing Flame around Sophara turned to one long dragon, roaring as it turned to the Blood clone.

They met in a crimson and gold explosion.

Mercy Forged String of Shadows, a wire of black shadow that attached Sophara’s back to Yerin. The wire became taut with tension, and it snapped Yerin to Sophara. The dragon spun and kicked Yerin back, then turned to Mercy.

A couple seconds later, Mercy was thrown into the air, landing on top of Yerin. They both groaned, rolling away from each other as Sophara engaged the Blood Shadow.

“Can you hold her off for a minute?” Asked Yerin as she stood up.

Mercy nodded, brushing a strand of loose hair behind her ear. “Got it. Easy as pie.”

Yerin closed her eyes and began drawing from the Sword Icon, sinking into the elusive state as she touched a deeper power, letting herself be guided. As her Blood Shadow was kicked away by Sophara, it raised its sword and began doing the same thing.

Mercy stood in front of Yerin, summoning her helmet as her eyes flashed brighter than usual. She would do whatever it took to defend her friend. She was Akura Mercy, the heir to the Akura title and protector of the Ashwind continent. Only she had been able to inherit her mother’s Book of Eternal Night. It was her destiny to succeed her mother as Monarch. One day, she would protect all her people against the gold dragons.

Sophara turned to Mercy, who raised her bow.

“No hurting Yerin!”

Sophara landed on Mercy’s shoulder, perching with her hands and feet. Mercy sagged with Sophara’s weight. She turned to see Sophara’s tail rushing at her face, crying out. It smashed into her head, slammed her aside as Sophara jumped to Yerin.

The Sword Sage’s disciple opened her eyes, but Sophara was too quick. She landed behind Yerin.

Yerin’s sword dropped from her hands and her sword-arms went limp. Her body hit the ground.

“NO!”

Mercy’s heartbroken voice tore through the air. The Akura banished her armor, crawling to Yerin.

Sophara’s tail threw the object it held, and Yerin’s head rolled away in the sand, turning it red. The Sword Sage and his former disciple would never be remembered.

Mercy reached and hugged Yerin’s corpse. She broke down like a child, gripping the sand with one black-tar hand.

“No, no, no!” She whimpered, rocking Yerin back and forth. “Please don’t leave me. I don’t want to be alone again.”

Sophara breathed in, enjoying the thrill of her hunt. She imagined Lindon’s reaction, and she smiled. One more left. She ran to Mercy, her claws extended.

Mercy looked up with a victorious gleam in her eyes.

“Surprise.”

A white sword pierced Sophara’s neck, and a black sword pierced her heart.

Sophara stood in place, her eyes wide. She coughed blood and it dribbled down her chin to her robes, staining her jewelry. Her body smoked from releasing so many Flowing Flame techniques. Her eyes widened as she turned her head.

Yerin stood to her side, her eyes closed.

Her Blood Shadow stood behind Sophara, cackling as it drove the sword deeper into her heart.

Sophara looked down, her body feeling terrible pain. It felt like acid was running through her veins. As she trembled, the black arrows began to materialize out of thin air.

They peppered her, appearing as if they had been there all along. She was covered in black smoking arrows. Some vibrated with the Shadow’s Edge. Some hissed with Nightworm Venom. Most of them were outlined in purple, releasing violet smoke that swirled around Sophara.

Dream aura.

The pain started to become unbearable. Sophara let out a scream, her muscles locking up with the Nightworm Venom.

When Mercy had activated her Dream of Darkness technique earlier, it had made her arrows hidden. They had pierced Sophara this whole time, injecting her with dream madra. Sophara was weak to dream madra and illusions. In the trials of the first round of the Uncrowned King Tournament, she had struggled the most with the illusion trial. Mercy had used that to her advantage.

It had given Yerin time to call upon her Sword Icon training. Now she stood with her whole body relaxed, her stance peaceful. Her sword-arms hung above her like raised arms. She breathed slowly, exhaling as she ran madra through her Diamond Veins to her Archlord binding.

Sophara knew that when Yerin released the binding, at this distance, she would be killed. With the Gate of Heaven elixir, her body was enhanced and on the verge of Overlady. It would protect herself from minor wounds like these. But not against Archlord madra. Sophara raised her hand towards Yerin, glowing orange.

Mercy appeared, catching her wrist, her hair loose. In the dark, her eyes glowed like two pinpricks of light.

“No.” She whispered.

The high speeds had caused Mercy’s hair to come undone, and it billowed behind her in the dark, falling down her back. Strands of it fell across her fierce violet eyes. Her purple eyes mixed with Sophara’s Flowing Flame, the dark room blending gold and purple. It reflected of her amethyst armor, Sophara’s reflection distorted.

Sophara could feel the Dragon King staring down at her. Xorrus. Ekeri. She would fail everyone. A disappointment. She would never get her revenge for Ekeri’s death.

And Lindon was still alive.

Sopahra’s golden eyes flared with ghostwater as she roared, Flowing Flame covering her body and burning the arrows away. She activated her Ruler technique, covering the room in liquid gold.

At the same time Sophara grabbed Yerin’s blade and tore it out of her neck, ghostwater guiding her movements as she kicked the Blood Shadow away, slapped Mercy across the stomach, and punched Yerin.

The three women blasted away from Sophara, golden fire swirling in to fill the room. The Blood Shadow’s blade slipped out of her heart, the pain making Sophara hiss between her teeth.

Mercy Forged Strings of Shadow that pulled them to the ceiling, keeping them in place as the floor underneath was engulfed in a waist-high fiery sea.

Sophara had already expected it, her ghostwater guiding her forward. She shot out a torrent of Flowing Flame at the ceiling. Her ghostwater let her know what would happen.

Mercy would release Strings of Shadow across the whole room, providing a net of shadows that would allow them to run across, protecting them from touching the ground. The three sacred artists would run to dodge the Striker technique, heading for the exit.

Sophara would follow, her Ruler technique running out as the Nightworm Venom raged through her system. Without warning the net of shadow above would clamp down on Sophara like a venus fly trap. She would block Mercy’s arrow with a Forged shield, rip the Blood Shadow’s arm off with her tail, and tear through Yerin’s Endless Sword.

Sophara could see the echoes play out in her head.

Mercy made the net of shadows as expected, and the three set off towards the tunnel. Sophara ran under, her Ruler technique already fading away. When the net wrapped around her, she slipped through accordingly, jumping up to the ceiling for Mercy.

A hand closed on her shoulder, pulling her back.

Sophara turned to see Yerin next to her standing on the ceiling, her upside-down face looking calm, her eyes closed. Sophara’s ghostwater had not modeled this.

Nor what happened next.

Blood slashed across Sopahra’s face as Yerin gracefully swung her blade. Sophara’s head flinched backwards, clutching her face. This was impossible. There was no way Yerin could have improved so much. Sophara glared at Yerin from her claws.

The Blood Shadow stabbed into Sophara’s shoulder from behind, ripping out with a spray of flesh. Forged String of Shadows curled around Sophara’s back, pulling her to the ground before she could retaliate.

As she neared the sand, Mercy was under her, her face desperate as she punched upwards. Sophara caught the punch, her tail flicking at Mercy. The Akura heir bent her back backwards until it was parallel to the floor, dodging the tail as it nicked her nose. And revealing Yerin standing right behind her.

Yerin punched Sophara’s face, knocking her back. The dragon screamed in rage as she flew backwards, her vision shaky from the dream madra. It was making it hard to focus. The pain from the Nightworm Venom was almost unbearable, her soulfire working hard to combat its effects. And Yerin was stronger than ever, moving like she herself had ghostwater.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. Her ghostwater should have modeled their abilities. Unless Yerin suddenly had exceeded her calculations, everything should have gone to plan. What was Yerin doing?

The Blood Shadow caught Sopahra’s airborne body with one palm, throwing her into the sand and stabbing down. Sophara moved her head out of the way as the black sword pierced the sand. A line of blood still appeared under Sopahra’s eye, dripping like bloody tears. She caught sight of the Blood Shadow’s face, its eyes closed and its expression placid.

Sopahra’s Flowing Flame caught the Blood clone in the chest, and it blasted away as Sophara rolled away from Mercy’s arrows, jumping up to avoid Yerin’s Striker techniques, and readied the release of another Ruler technique.

Strings of Shadow wrapped around her legs, pulling her down. Sophara landed with her tail first, slashing the shadow away. She Forged a shield to block the rest of Mercy and Yerin’s Striker techniques, running forward with the shield.

Mercy wrapped it in shadow and pulled the shield away as Yerin swung her sword. Sophara slid under the blade, her tail knocking Yerin off her feet. Sophara’s claw slashed upwards as she slid past Yerin, about to rip Yerin’s stomach open.

Yerin’s sword-arms made a metal wall in front of her, pushing the claw aside as Yerin landed on her hand. Keeping her hand on the floor, she kicked out. Sophara’s tail blocked it, bating it down as it slid up her leg and hit Yerin’s sword; the sword flew up into the air, leaving motes of ice in the air. Yerin kicked out with her other leg, trailing sand, her sword-arms stabbing into the ground to balance her.

Sophara moved her head away, falling on her back as she caught Yerin’s ankle. The strength of the Steelborn Iron body made Sophara’s bones vibrate, and she slid through the sand.

That was when Yerin’s sword-arms pushed her off from the floor onto her feet, a ring of sand blasting away; she raised her hand up and caught her flipping sword, stabbing down into Sopahra’s arm.

Sophara was already unleashing another Striker technique when Yerin’s Blood Shadow joined in. Sophara pulled her arm out of Yerin’s blade, sliding her arm out as it left a sickening gash.

Both Yerin and her Blood Shadow slashed down on her. Sophara caught their swords, snarling. She jumped up to her feet, only for a loop of Mercy’s shadow to curl around her neck and pull her up… to Yerin’s Blood Shadow standing on the ceiling.

It laughed as its black sword sliced forward while at the same time its sword-arms wrapped around her, unleashing the Endless Sword. Sophara caught the sword with her tail, igniting the ceiling in golden fire.

Sophara moved quickly, slithering like a snake, as she slid through the sword-arms and escaped the Ruler technique with minor cuts, tearing out the Blood clone’s throat.

As the Blood Shadow disappeared into essence, she looked down and saw that Yerin was standing by herself.

The dream madra was still affecting Sophara, making her believe Yerin’s’ Blood Shadow had joined the fight when in reality it had been biding its time on the ceiling.

Yerin shot out crescent blades of silver madra. Sophara tried to move, but her feet were stuck to the ceiling. Looking down she saw it was covered in shadow madra, wrapping around her ankles. The Shadow’s Edge technique activated as blades of shadow madra pierced out, thousands of swords about to stab into her. Yerin grasped their sword aura, and the Endless Sword was layered with Mercy’s technique.

Sophara strained, and her dragon strength uprooted the ceiling, causing her to fall to the ground. As the ceiling collapsed, it began to heal itself.

Sophara landed in between Mercy and Yerin, her ghostwater piloting her forward, blood running down her scales.

She fought against both Yerin and Mercy, alternating back and forth. Her claws slashed Mercy’s armor, her tail dueling with Yerin’s sword-arms. Sophara stood her ground, attacking and counteracting, her tail throwing Mercy away before tripping Yerin.

As her tail looped around Yerin’s leg, Yerin stabbed into the sand, steadying herself to kick Sophara back. Whenever Sophara was pressing Yerin back too much, Mercy would reflexively pull the dragon back using Strings of Shadow with a flick of her wrists, allowing Yerin to regain her footing.

Sophara noticed the coordination in their movements when Yerin kicked out her leg, throwing her claws sideways with her blade, and opening a spot for Mercy to release an arrow right into her face. Sophara bit the arrow in half, her teeth burning with blood.

A hole in the floor opened behind Yerin, revealing a dark abyss. It was time to separate them, Xorrus had decided. Sophara agreed.

Her tail smashed into Yerin, pushing her into the hole. Yerin smiled, and Mercy’s Strings of Shadow attaching to her hand. It pulled her up and over Sophara’s head, along with Mercy.

Mercy arched over Sophara in the air, curling as she released her arrow. Sophara looked up as Shadow’s Edge arrows rained down on her. She yelled, Flowing Flame rising to demolish the arrows.

A black shape fell through the fiery tide, falling down onto Sophara. The black madra covering it began to fade away, revealing a bloody smile.

Yerin’s Blood Shadow pushed through the flames, protected by a coating of Mercy’s shadow madra. It was already healed after Sophara had ripped out its throat, having come out once again.

The black sword bit into Sopahra’s stomach, knocking her backwards. Yerin shot from the ceiling, punching Sophara to the ground. Mercy’s Strings of Shadow wrapped around Yerin and pulled her back before Sophara could counterattack.

Mercy’s String of Shadows enveloped Sophara in a shell, dragging her backwards. Sophara cut her way out, finding Mercy running in her armor next to her. She was completely covered in glinting purple armor. The Akura girl used her momentum to pick Sophara up and press her face into the burning sand wall.

Mercy ran, dragging Sophara across. It left a faceprint of Sophara’s face in the sand as it slowly healed itself. Sophara elbowed Mercy in the face, but only managed to hit the tip as Strings of Shadow pulled Mercy backwards, and Yerin forward.

Sophara flicked a horizontal whip of Flowing Flame. Yerin’s Blood Shadow dropped down next to Yerin and cut the whip in half, allowing Yerin to engage as she hit Sophara in the chest feet-first.

Sophara was blasted back into the sand. That was when rotting arms reached out, grabbing her. Sophara fought against the Dream of Darkness illusions, ignoring what looked like dragon mummies glaring at her from within the walls. The coffins all around the room began to open, revealing decaying dragon corpses that shambled out.

Soon, Sophara had no time to focus on the illusions.

Yerin and her Blood Shadow fought like one. Sophara was thrown into the middle of the room by their Endless Sword. She skidded backwards as they were on top of her in seconds. Their speed was elegant like ghostwater, as if following the movement of a dance they had practiced for years. They threw their swords to each other, sliding it between Sopahra’s legs or over her head. One would momentarily dual wield both swords while the other used their sword-arms and fists.

Mercy had attached a line of shadow connecting her to Yerin’s back, pulling Mercy forward as her feet slid in the sand, keeping her close to them. As she tore through the sand after them, she released arrow after arrow, keeping Sophara’s tail occupied.

As Yerin punched Sophara, the dragon Underlady was blasted backwards to be stabbed by the Blood Shadow. Sophara changed her trajectory by pushing off the ground and flipping over the Blood Shadow. Her tail wrapped around its neck and threw it back at Yerin.

It retracted its sword-arms as Yerin retracted her sword-arms; Yerin went low, allowing her Blood Shadow to roll across her back. Yerin caught her Blood Shadow before it hit the ground and threw it back at Sophara like a missile.

Both Yerin’s released their sword-arms again, continuing the fight.

Sopahra’s eyes glowed with a fading pale light as her ghostwater ran out. Her movements were slowing, the Nightworm Venom taking its toll on her body. She could barely move anymore, forcing her dragon strength to keep pushing her forward. Dream of Darkness was making her hallucinate, causing visions of Yerin. Instead of six sword-arms she saw twelve, seeing double. Or rather quadruple considering the Blood Shadow.

Both Yerin’s kept their eyes closed, smiling as if enjoying themselves. Not a speck of sand hit their robes, Sopahra’s blood spraying past them as they carved into her.

Finally, Sophara’s limbs were unable to move as both Yerin’s dashed past her, sculpting her ribs out, her bone showing through. Nightworm Venom spilled from her wounds like acid blood, burning the sand around her.

Mercy shot an arrow that enveloped Sophara, but the dragon yanked on the webs, pulling Mercy towards her. The Akura fired two arrows—the arrows that would finish the fight.

Sophara dodged the first one as it passed her shoulder, ducking under the next as she caught Mercy’s armored throat. Behind her, the second arrow hit the first and rebounded off. It bounced to Sophara, about to stab her in the neck.

The dragon Underlady caught the arrow, pulling it away. That was when Dream of Darkness lifted away, no longer hiding the attached strings.

It revealed the Strings of Shadow attached from the arrow and to the ceiling. When Sophara pulled the arrow down, she activated the Forger technique. The strings of webs coalesced together like black metal.

An arrow of night formed instantly from the webs, piercing her throat. Sophara was unable to move out of the way, her feet stuck by shadow madra she hadn’t even realized was there.

The black arrow was as thick as her arm, stabbing through her throat and pushing her into the wall behind her. She shot back with a spray of sand, pinned to the wall.

Yerin sagged, her Blood Shadow vanishing. She looked around, breathing heavily. Her Sword Icon had run out.

Mercy ran and hugged Yerin.

“You did it!”

Sophara knew she had lost, but she looked up at the ceiling. She begged for another chance. She could defeat them, but only one on one. As she begged, she felt the Dragon King’s approval.

Mercy shouted back as she was pulled by an invisible force. Yerin reached for her, but Mercy was already swallowed up by the wall.

As Mercy’s armor protected herself from the sand, she fell into open space. It took a disorienting second to realize she was falling from the ceiling of this room, the ceiling made of yellow bricks. She landed below on solid platform.

The room consisted of a platform of Forged sand in the middle of black abyss. All around her, waterfalls of sand poured from the brick ceiling, the sand above gathering up to certain points to release spillages. It provided a constant noise in the background.

Mercy looked around, hoping Yerin was safe. She didn’t know why Xorrus had pulled her away to another room. Hadn’t they proven themselves already? When could they go back home?

The walls began to open behind Mercy. She turned, feeling the aura radiating there, and dreading what she would see.

A dark tunnel lit by torches were revealed, leading up to golden stairs. Down those stairs, a sand clone was walking down.

She was smirking, six sword-arms attached to her back, her sandy robes dark enough to be almost black. In her hand it held a sand sword, the blade made of white sand. The clone wasn’t alone, a second replica walking alongside, made entirely of red sand.

Mercy felt tears in her eyes.

“No, please don’t! I don’t want to do this. She’s my friend!”

The Yerin sand clone jumped out, the Blood Shadow sand clone right behind.

Mercy wiped her tears away as she raised her bow, steeling herself for the fight to come.

END OF PART 1