They were immediately mobbed by her relatives.
The sight warmed her heart. It hadn’t been long since the Akura clan had looked down on Lindon and Yerin, and would have approached them only out of necessity or as part of a scheme.
Now, they were tripping over themselves to make a good impression.
Her friends had shown their worth. To everyone.
Lindon loomed over everyone else, and the look of discomfort on his face made him look more like he had before his advancement to Underlord: as though he was searching for something to punch. Unfortunately for him, as a Lord he was handsome enough to take the edge off, so his new admirers would take his expression to be stern and regal.
Yerin looked more at ease than Lindon, shoving through her much-larger crowd and cornering a servant holding a tray of tiny dumplings. She seized a pair for herself, then—when she saw that Lindon was still pinned by Akura clan members—reached in and pulled him out by the hand.
After he let himself be hauled to freedom, he didn’t release her hand right away.
That sight made Mercy slow for a moment. She couldn’t put a name to what she felt. It wasn’t jealousy, exactly. At least, she didn’t think so. Maybe envy.
She had never had many friends in the Akura clan. She considered herself a friend to almost everyone, but very few felt that way about her. From the moment she was chosen by the Book of Eternal Night, she was apart from the rest of them. Separate. A target of alliance for the ambitious, or a rival to be overcome, or perhaps even someone to be feared.
Despite only having known them a couple of years, she thought of Lindon and Yerin as her closest friends. And they were getting closer to each other, one step at a time.
Leaving her alone.
Yerin saw Mercy and brightened. It was still a shock to see Yerin with eyes that resembled Uncle Fury’s, but Mercy waved cheerily. Yerin came over to meet her in a moment, still holding Lindon’s hand.
The surrounding Akuras backed off to give them some space.
“Your family’s a touch friendlier than before,” Yerin remarked, popping a miniature dumpling into her mouth whole. “Wonder why.”
Lindon finally slipped his hand from Yerin’s, sliding it into the pocket of his outer robe instead. “I know why they want to talk to you, but I’m not sure what they want from me.”
“You did fantastic in the tournament!” Mercy assured him. But because she knew what he meant, she continued. “Some of them know about your performance in Sky’s Edge, and the smarter ones may have heard about what…showed up in the sky.”
Mercy couldn’t believe it herself, though she had seen Lindon toy with Sophara, and she’d even witnessed the black hole that covered the clouds. Charity had explained it to her. A little.
Lindon was a Sage now.
Mercy still wasn’t quite sure how that was possible.
Lindon looked relieved. “Gratitude. I was worried it was something…else.”
Mercy wracked her brain, but couldn’t imagine what he was talking about. “What else could it possibly be?”
“Apologies, I don’t mean to speak ill of your family. I thought perhaps they were using me to get closer to Yerin, or trying to get revenge because I overshadowed them, or they wanted to blackmail me to force me to fight for them.”
“Of course not!” Mercy exclaimed. Did her family really have that bad of a reputation in Lindon’s eyes?
Yerin and Lindon looked at each other, exchanging a look between them that once again made Mercy feel left out.
“Truly, I do apologize, but…they’ve done all of those things.”
Mercy shut her mouth. They were right. Now that she thought of it, she didn’t know why she’d bothered to defend her relatives in the first place.
She had never liked the way her family handled things. They twisted themselves in knots to appease those stronger, and expected the same from those beneath them. They never associated with the weak unless they stood to gain something.
It wasn’t as though she really thought her family was better than that, she just…wanted them to be.
“Yeah,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry.”
The emotions she’d been feeling before—sorrow at the loss of her family members—came back in full force and blended with her guilt. With Uncle Fury and his immediate family leaving, there were even fewer good people left in the Akura clan.
Not that Fury didn’t have his share of issues. The legends of certain cultures regarded him as a monster.
Maybe there were no good people in her family.
The air around her began to literally darken as her shadow madra leaked out, reflecting her gloom.
Yerin rapped her on the top of the head with one knuckle.
She hadn’t struck particularly hard, and Mercy’s Overlord-level body was resilient. Even so, the impact hurt.
Mercy clapped one black-clad hand to the injury, but Yerin didn’t look the least bit sympathetic. “You can cut that off right now. You know we’re not putting anything they did on your account.”
Mercy blinked rapidly and took deep breaths to get ahold of herself. It had been a long few days.
Before she could thank Yerin, Uncle Fury emerged from the crowd, looming over most everyone—though not Lindon—and beaming ear to ear.
He strode confidently up to Yerin, and to Mercy’s horror, he had his right hand cocked back and gathering madra. It looked like he was about to attack.
Yerin pushed past Mercy, her own right hand drawn back.
Mercy’s horror choked her, but disbelief prevented her from moving. Someone should stop this. She should stop this. What was—
The palms of the Herald and the Monarch cracked together in an explosion that left some of the nearby crowd stumbling back. The wind snatched at formal robes and shoved snacks off platters.
Yerin and Uncle Fury clasped hands, Fury grinning and Yerin wearing a similar expression.
“I’m so jealous,” Fury said. “What did it feel like, killing a Monarch?”
Yerin snorted. “Didn’t get him in a fight, did I? About like swatting a fly.”
Uncle Fury closed his eyes and breathed in slowly through the nose as though savoring a scent. “Like swatting a fly…oh, it’s beautiful. It’s better than I ever imagined. The King of Dragons, swatted by a child. Like a fly.”
He took another deep breath. “Perfect.”
“Half-certain I’m the one who’s meant to be jealous.” After a deliberate pause, she added, “Monarch.”
“You kidding me? Who am I going to get to fight me now?”
Lindon answered that one. “Heavenly warriors, I would guess.”
Red eyes lit up, and Fury released Yerin’s hand at last. “That’s the idea!” He put fists on his hips, facing Lindon. “I’ve had somebody take care of your points. The rest of your team got to make their own choices from what we had left. I’d give you something myself, but I hear Charity’s taking care of it.”
Lindon forced a smile in return. “Gratitude. What about the ones we lost?”
That was enough to darken Mercy’s mood again. She had seen Grace die, and Douji as well. She hadn’t personally witnessed Courage fall, but she felt it.
“They were all clan members, and we take care of—Oh, hey, look at that!” He raised a hand and beckoned to someone in the crowd.