The first message warned him that Jai Daishou had deviated from his schedule today. It seemed that he was going to take care of Jai Long’s rebellion personally. That was a relief to Cassias, though Eithan might take it differently; if the Jai Underlord was acting, then Jai Long wouldn’t survive to fight Lindon.
The second message said that Eithan had returned to the city. He’d left again only a week or so ago, and Cassias hadn’t expected him back for weeks, so Eithan must have received his report about Orthos. Other than the Underlord, there was no one in the Arelius family who could soothe Orthos without killing him.
Both letters contained valuable information, but nothing alarming. If Jai Daishou meeting with Jai Long was cause for alarm, Eithan would know and deal with it. Cassias could focus on his task.
In situations like this, at least, Eithan was reliable.
***
For months, Jai Long and the Sandvipers had waged a guerilla war against the Jai clan. That mostly meant ambushing them as they tried to sabotage the Arelius family, which was still enough to make Jai Long laugh.
Every time the Jai clan tried to capture another Arelius warehouse, Jai Long was there, gathering food for his spear. Every time they moved against Arelius street crews under cover of night, Jai Long spilled their blood in the streets. And servants bearing the black crescent moon were always right there to scrub it clean.
He was doing a better job of protecting the Arelius family than their Underlord was.
More than once, he’d wondered about the legendary powers of the Arelius bloodline. If they really could sense a speck of dust on a single tile at the top of a hundred-foot roof, as the stories claimed, then Eithan had to know what Jai Long was doing in the city. He could have stopped Jai Long at any time, removing a steadily growing threat to his own adopted disciple.
But he’d been the one to promise that disciple a duel in the first place. Jai Long was glad he didn’t work for the Arelius; that family must treat its disciples lives as tinder for the fire.
Thanks to Jai Long and Gokren, the Jai clan had been forced to lighten its grip on its enemies. Jai Lowgolds had a curfew now, and the clan had distributed valuable communication constructs to carry word of any suspicious sightings. Most of the clan had retreated to the very peak of Shiryu Mountain, living as close to their Underlord as possible, and a Highgold had been assigned to every house.
Not that it would do them any good. Jai Long had broken through to Truegold weeks ago.
At this point, draining Lowgolds of their Remnants did virtually nothing but replenish his core. Only Highgolds or better would help him advance, and Truegolds were the best.
Which was why he was here, crouching on the roof of one of the Jai clan’s lesser palaces, waiting for the first Truegold patrol of the night. The sun was dropping behind the mountain, casting long shadows over Serpent’s Grave, so it would be harder to see now than in the middle of the night.
Ordinarily, the streets outside the Jai clan homes would be packed at sunset, but the curfew required everyone except designated clan guards to be inside a safehouse before dark. None of the palaces in this district were secure, so they would be empty. Defended only by a Truegold at the beginning of a long patrol.
He gripped the case for the Ancestor’s Spear. There would only be one opponent this time, so no need to capture a Remnant—he could drain the elder dry right there on the street. No witnesses.
Gokren and two Sandviper Highgolds waited nearby, ready to provide backup if Jai Long encountered any difficulty. He was powerful enough now to rank in the top twenty or thirty of the Jai clan, but a true elder had been practicing the sacred arts since long before Jai Long was born. Who knew what crafty tricks they might have prepared.
As Jai Long slowly cycled, keeping his spirit calm, he felt it: the approaching force of a Truegold soul.
He hadn’t needed to scan the target directly to confirm that it was a Truegold, because they weren’t bothering to hide their power. There was a slightly muffled feel to it, as though they’d tried to veil themselves but had given up halfway. Maybe it wasn’t intentional; nerves could interfere with cycling. Perhaps they feared the attacker in the shadows.
If that was true, they would try to flee and sound the alarm rather than doing battle. Jai Long would have to strike so hard that they never had the chance to shout.
A white-clad figure with pale hair strode by beneath him, hands clasped behind the back. Through the shadows, Jai Long couldn’t make out if it was a man or a woman, but the force of a Truegold radiated from them.
Jai Long leaped off the building, Ancestor’s Spear shining in his grip. Stellar Spear madra ran through his muscles and bones, Enforcing him for the landing, bracing his body for the strike.
The Flowing Starlight technique settled in as he fell, until the wind seemed to whip past for long breaths of time. The white-haired head tilted, and Jai Long prepared himself for impact.
Then dark eyes swiveled up to meet him, showing no surprise.
An invisible fist gripped Jai Long’s heart and squeezed.
Jai Daishou, Underlord of the Jai clan, took a single step to the side and let his rebellious descendant crash to the ground.
Less than half a year had passed since Jai Long arrived in Serpent’s Grave; he’d expected to have months more before Jai Daishou personally acted. By then, he would have had more leverage.
He’d underestimated the Underlord’s insight, or overestimated his pride. Either way, the bill had come due long before Jai Long was prepared to pay.
Just like that, his revenge was over.
The impact of landing shocked Jai Long’s entire body, rattling his bones, and the bricks of the street cracked beneath him. The pure white shaft of his spear was driven two feet into the ground, and he’d landed in a crouch.
But slamming into the earth was nothing compared to the force of seeing Jai Daishou here, staring at him with the icy strength born from a hundred years of absolute rule.
A corrosive Truegold aura moved closer: Sandviper Gokren. He would have heard the crash, sensed the flare of Jai Long’s madra, and known that the trap was triggered. He’d never seen the Jai Underlord before; he would assume that Jai Daishou was just a Jai elder who had gotten the better of Jai Long.
He would try to help.
Jai Long’s stomach twisted, but he forced himself to meet the Underlord’s eyes. “This humble junior greets the Patriarch,” he said, his voice firm. He might have been about to die, but at least he didn’t have to show fear.
Jai Daishou turned to regard him head-on, his wrinkled face a mask, and Jai Long could no longer suppress his body's trembling. The old man's gaze was placid, like a frozen lake, but Jai Long shook as though he stared down a hungry dragon.
“You have killed sacred artists of your own clan,” the Patriarch said. “For quite some time now.” His tone remained neutral.