Was it true?
Mercy’s eyebrows twitched, but she went on. “A reliable witness saw you plant this, and then our Archlords stopped you from activating a gatestone. Where would the stone have taken you?”
The fear was leaking out of Daji, leaving confidence. “Home. I feared that a rival of mine would use underhanded tactics to get revenge on me.” He gave an overt glance in Lindon’s direction.
Lindon sensed the bond that stretched between Daji’s soul and Mercy’s. It didn’t tremble.
What’s going on? Lindon asked Dross.
Dross returned an image of himself with both boneless arms spread in a shrug. [Reigan Shen?]
It hadn’t taken a genius to deduce who was behind the attack. The assassins had been openly wearing Shen’s colors.
Still, no matter how certain they were, Malice was the only one who could push a grudge against a Monarch. Malice, and now Fury.
Until he ascended.
It had to have been Reigan Shen that allowed Daji to lie under oath. Not that Lindon had any idea how that would be possible.
But the Akura family hadn’t blindly trusted Lindon because of his long association with Mercy. They’d taken his sworn statement and even read his memory of the event…though as far as they knew, that last part could have been fabricated by Dross.
Not to mention that Lindon hadn’t been the only one on that rooftop. Four others had glimpsed Daji in the vicinity, or seen something thrown to the floor before the group vanished. Everyone here knew who the guilty party was.
Even so, this was only the first stage of the Akura clan’s investigation. It would be long and, no doubt, exhaustive.
Daji’s spine straightened, and he spoke with more confidence. “I know of no plot against the Akura clan, and neither does my father. We are loyal, and we do not deserve this treatment.” He glared at Lindon openly now. “I only know of a plot against us.”
Lindon’s disgust ignited into hot, clean anger.
Mercy’s hand trembled on the anchor. Next to her, Charity’s face was a mask. King Dakata was panting, looking to his son with new hope, as though he hadn’t dared to believe Daji might be innocent. Meira simply looked confused. Confused and tired.
The other Akura around the room glanced to Lindon, and he felt their attention on him. His nerves crawled, and in lesser company, he would have felt their suspicion.
But they hadn’t earned their way into this room on combat strength alone. One by one they surveyed him, then returned their attention to Daji.
Who was trying his hardest to look innocent and hurt.
“If this is about my attack on you,” Daji said to Mercy, “I can only beg your forgiveness. It was so long ago, and I pray to the heavens that you’ll find the…mercy…to forgive me.”
Silence rolled over the room like a boulder.
[Was that…was he making a joke?]
Mercy’s expression twisted in disgust. “So then, you swear to me on your soul that this is nothing more than a personal grudge between you and the witness who reported you?”
“That is the only explanation that would satisfy me.”
“You believe he has accused you falsely?”
“Yes,” Daji spat, but then he wrestled his anger under control again. “I mean, that’s the only explanation I can think of. My loyalty is, and always has been, to the Akura clan.”
Daji turned to shoot another look at Lindon, only to see—too late—King Dakata frantically shaking his head.
Mercy looked to Lindon with sadness in her eyes, but Lindon gave her a grim nod. He saw where this was going.
She regretted the necessity, but he didn’t.
He slowly pushed past some members of the Akura family, limbering up his madra.
“Very well then,” Mercy pronounced. “In the lack of further evidence, this must be nothing more than a personal grudge between Wei Shi Lindon Arelius and Seishen Daji of the Seishen Kingdom.”
As Lindon’s eyes darkened, Daji’s skin paled.
Mercy continued as King Dakata started screaming into his muzzle again. “The investigation into the Seishen Kingdom will continue, but first let this personal grudge between accuser and accused be settled.”
“Seishen Daji,” Lindon said quietly, “I challenge you to a duel.”
The other two prisoners were being hauled away—Meira quietly and Dakata struggling every inch of the way. An Underlady in Akura colors but with no purple eyes waved her hands over Daji, and a complex waterfall of emerald life madra cascaded down over him.
“No!” Daji shouted as his injuries knit together. “Why should I fight him? This isn’t fair!”
Mercy sounded regretful, but she still spoke clearly. “What could be more fair? You’re both Underlords. He has accused you of a terrible crime, for which he has provided evidence, but you insist he is only smearing your good name. Very well. Defend your honor.”
“I don’t have—”
“The Akura clan will uphold the results of the duel,” Mercy interrupted.
Next to her, Charity nodded once.
Daji licked his lips, his eyes flitting around. “I…if I win, I’ll go free?”
“If you win, we will continue our investigation as though Lindon accused you out of a personal grudge, which has been resolved,” Mercy said. Which didn’t quite answer the question.
Daji, though, grasped at the thin lifeline he had been offered. “Give me back my swords. And my armor.”
“Your armor was damaged in your apprehension, and we found no swords on you.”
Lindon’s void key slipped open, the closet-sized door hanging in the air to his right. He sent his spiritual sense inside, summoning a pair of swords, which leaped to him with a quick application of force aura.
“I happen to have found these lying on the ground recently,” Lindon said. “Do they suit you?”
They were, of course, Daji’s.
He tossed them to Daji, who seized one thin sword in each hand. The Seishen Underlord hurled the sheaths off so they clattered to the ground. The Striker bindings in each blade kindled to life, and sparks ran up and down the metal.
“He has accepted his weapons,” Mercy said. “Lindon, you may use weapons of your own.”
Lindon folded his arms in front of him. “Gratitude, but I am as armed as I need to be.”
The lithe, wolf-like Seishen Underlord leaned forward, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, swords held low. He radiated fear, anger. Hunger.
Lindon knew the feeling.
He remembered Akura Grace’s cold, lifeless eyes. Courage’s body. Douji’s. Pride’s bloody, beaten form as he swayed on his feet.
Daji had caused all that. If Lindon couldn’t leave for Sacred Valley until the morning, at least this was worth some time.
“Begin,” Mercy said.
A bolt of lightning madra coursed over Lindon’s shoulder, but his fist had already smashed into Daji’s nose.
The Seishen prince blasted backwards, his spine slamming into an old man in the audience.
Akura Justice was an ancient Archlord. Daji bounced off his palm as though he’d run into a brick wall.
Daji’s face was a bloody mess, his nose shattered, and Lindon’s next punch broke his ribs and lifted him into the air.
Outclassed he may have been, but Daji’s body had still been remade in soulfire. He twisted in midair and his sword expanded to massive size with Forged madra. He slashed at Lindon, beneath him, with a blade the size of his entire body.