Chapter 208 - 208. Red Moon Pagoda (III)

The words 𝕊ℍ𝕀𝔼𝕃𝔻 𝕆𝔽 𝕋ℍ𝔼 𝔹𝕃𝕆𝕆𝔻 𝕄𝕆𝕆ℕ appeared in devilish red letters over the spirit's head.

The mists thickened. Another vision flashed o view.

𝔻𝕚𝕤𝕔𝕚𝕡𝕝𝕖! It was the Spirit, big again here. 𝕀𝕥 𝕚𝕤 𝕥𝕚𝕞𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕗𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕕𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕒𝕝 𝕥𝕖𝕔𝕙𝕟𝕚𝕢𝕦𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 ℝ𝕖𝕕 𝕄𝕠𝕠𝕟 ℙ𝕒𝕘𝕠𝕕𝕒. 𝕌𝕟𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕞𝕠𝕤𝕥 𝕥𝕖𝕔𝕙𝕟𝕚𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕤, 𝕚𝕥 𝕕𝕠𝕖𝕤 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕞𝕖𝕣𝕖𝕝𝕪 𝕞𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕦𝕤𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕠𝕨𝕟 𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖. 𝕀𝕥 𝕨𝕚𝕖𝕝𝕕𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕖 ℝ𝕖𝕕 𝕄𝕠𝕠𝕟 ℙ𝕒𝕘𝕠𝕕𝕒 𝕚𝕥𝕤𝕖𝕝𝕗! 𝕎𝕙𝕚𝕔𝕙 𝕞𝕒𝕜𝕖𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝔹𝕝𝕠𝕠𝕕 𝕄𝕠𝕠𝕟 𝕊𝕙𝕚𝕖𝕝𝕕 𝕒 𝕦𝕟𝕚𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕝𝕪 𝕡𝕠𝕥𝕖𝕟𝕥 𝕊𝕜𝕚𝕝𝕝. 𝕀𝕗 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕞𝕒𝕩 𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕚𝕥𝕤 𝕃𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕝, 𝕥𝕙𝕖 ℙ𝕒𝕘𝕠𝕕𝕒 𝕚𝕥𝕤𝕖𝕝𝕗 𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕗𝕒𝕚𝕝 𝕓𝕖𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕥𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕊𝕠𝕦𝕝 𝕕𝕒𝕞𝕒𝕘𝕖—𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 ℙ𝕒𝕘𝕠𝕕𝕒… 𝕃𝕖𝕥 𝕦𝕤 𝕡𝕦𝕥 𝕚𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕨𝕒𝕪. 𝕀 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥 𝕠𝕟 𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕟𝕦𝕞𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝕠𝕗 𝕠𝕝𝕕 𝕞𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕘𝕒𝕝𝕒𝕩𝕪 𝕨𝕙𝕠 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕟 𝕚𝕥.

The Spirit snorted. 𝕀𝕥 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕘𝕖𝕕 𝕒𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕓𝕖𝕙𝕖𝕤𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 ℂ𝕖𝕝𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕒𝕝 𝔼𝕞𝕡𝕖𝕣𝕠𝕣 𝕗𝕚𝕧𝕖 ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕠𝕤 ℂ𝕪𝕔𝕝𝕖𝕤 𝕒𝕘𝕠!

To Zane's right, the present-day Spirit coughed. 𝔽𝕚𝕧𝕖-𝕒𝕟𝕕-𝕒-𝕙𝕒𝕝𝕗 𝕟𝕠𝕨.

The vision-Spirit kept going. 𝕀𝕥 𝕚𝕤 𝕞𝕒𝕕𝕖 𝕗𝕣𝕠𝕞 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕙𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕖𝕤𝕥 𝕔𝕒𝕝𝕚𝕓𝕖𝕣 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕧𝕖𝕟-𝔾𝕣𝕒𝕕𝕖 𝕊𝕡𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕥 𝕊𝕥𝕖𝕖𝕝. 𝔼𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕪 𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕠𝕗 𝕚𝕥 𝕥𝕖𝕞𝕡𝕖𝕣𝕖𝕕 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕚𝕟𝕗𝕦𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕖 ℂ𝕠𝕟𝕔𝕖𝕡𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝔼𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕓𝕪 ℙ𝕒𝕥𝕣𝕚𝕒𝕣𝕔𝕙 𝔻𝕚𝕒𝕞𝕠𝕟𝕕𝕗𝕚𝕤𝕥 𝕙𝕚𝕞𝕤𝕖𝕝𝕗! 𝕀𝕗 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕔𝕒𝕟 𝕞𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕚𝕥 𝕗𝕦𝕝𝕝𝕪 𝕚𝕥 𝕚𝕤 𝕟𝕠 𝕖𝕩𝕒𝕘𝕘𝕖𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 𝕥𝕠 𝕤𝕒𝕪 𝕪𝕠𝕦'𝕝𝕝 𝕟𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕟𝕖𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕠 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕣𝕪 𝕒𝕓𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕤𝕠𝕦𝕝 𝕒𝕥𝕥𝕒𝕔𝕜𝕤 𝕒𝕘𝕒𝕚𝕟.

It paused as though to let that sink in.

𝔹𝕦𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕚𝕤 𝕒 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕤𝕠𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕥𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕤𝕦𝕣𝕖 𝕚𝕤 𝕘𝕣𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕕 𝕤𝕠 𝕝𝕠𝕨, 𝕣𝕖𝕝𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕧𝕖𝕝𝕪 𝕤𝕡𝕖𝕒𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘, 𝕒𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕟𝕠𝕨. ℕ𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕪 𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕚𝕥𝕤 𝕡𝕠𝕨𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕤𝕙𝕒𝕔𝕜𝕝𝕖𝕕. 𝕎𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕤𝕖𝕖 𝕚𝕤 𝕒𝕜𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕠 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕚𝕡 𝕠𝕗 𝕒𝕟 𝕚𝕔𝕖𝕓𝕖𝕣𝕘 𝕨𝕙𝕠𝕤𝕖 𝕕𝕖𝕡𝕥𝕙𝕤 𝕤𝕔𝕣𝕒𝕡𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕠𝕔𝕖𝕒𝕟 𝕗𝕝𝕠𝕠𝕣. 𝕀𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕖𝕕, 𝕚𝕥 𝕚𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕦𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕒𝕔𝕜𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 ℝ𝕖𝕕 𝕄𝕠𝕠𝕟 ℙ𝕒𝕘𝕠𝕕𝕒 𝕨𝕙𝕚𝕔𝕙 𝕚𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕕𝕚𝕗𝕗𝕚𝕔𝕦𝕝𝕥 𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕥. 𝔹𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕖𝕕, 𝕕𝕚𝕤𝕔𝕚𝕡𝕝𝕖! 𝔼𝕧𝕖𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕤𝕖 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕚𝕞𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕖 𝕥𝕒𝕝𝕖𝕟𝕥 𝕗𝕚𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕞𝕠𝕤𝕥 𝕕𝕚𝕗𝕗𝕚𝕔𝕦𝕝𝕥 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕖𝕟𝕘𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝕝𝕚𝕧𝕖𝕤—𝕚𝕥 𝕞𝕒𝕪 𝕥𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕪𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕤, 𝕡𝕖𝕣𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕤 𝕕𝕖𝕔𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕤, 𝕥𝕠 𝕞𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕤𝕥 𝕝𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕝—

The scene abruptly ended. The present-day Spirit gave another awkward cough. 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕥 𝕚𝕤 𝕞𝕖𝕣𝕖𝕝𝕪 𝕒 𝕗𝕖𝕨 𝕤𝕦𝕔𝕙 𝕕𝕚𝕤𝕔𝕝𝕒𝕚𝕞𝕖𝕣𝕤. 𝕎𝕖 𝕔𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕜𝕚𝕡 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕥—𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕣𝕖𝕝𝕖𝕧𝕒𝕟𝕥 𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖.

Zane nodded.

𝕍𝕖𝕣𝕪 𝕨𝕖𝕝𝕝, 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕟,said the Spirit gravely.ℂ𝕝𝕠𝕤𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕖𝕪𝕖𝕤, 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕀 𝕤𝕙𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕚𝕞𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕊𝕜𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕚𝕟 𝕗𝕦𝕝𝕝. 𝕊𝕚𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕖 ℙ𝕒𝕘𝕠𝕕𝕒 𝕚𝕤 𝕓𝕠𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕠 𝕪𝕠𝕦, 𝕀 𝕔𝕒𝕟 𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕤𝕞𝕚𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨𝕝𝕖𝕕𝕘𝕖 𝕕𝕚𝕣𝕖𝕔𝕥𝕝𝕪 𝕥𝕠 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕕. 𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕞𝕖𝕒𝕟𝕤 𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕠𝕨 𝕞𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕘𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕥 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕦𝕡 𝕥𝕠 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕊𝕜𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕦𝕡 𝕥𝕠 𝔼𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕙-𝔼𝕡𝕚𝕔… 𝕓𝕖𝕪𝕠𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕣𝕖𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕣𝕖 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕝-𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕝𝕕 𝕋𝕣𝕚𝕒𝕝𝕤. 𝕃𝕖𝕥 𝕦𝕤 𝕓𝕖𝕘𝕚𝕟.

Zane closed his eyes.

𝕋𝕙𝕖 ℝ𝕖𝕕 𝕄𝕠𝕠𝕟 ℙ𝕒𝕘𝕠𝕕𝕒 𝕨𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕚𝕞𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕪𝕠𝕦:

𝕊𝕜𝕚𝕝𝕝: 𝕊𝕙𝕚𝕖𝕝𝕕 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝔹𝕝𝕠𝕠𝕕 𝕄𝕠𝕠𝕟

𝔸𝕔𝕔𝕖𝕡𝕥?

Zane did.

And his head burst open with knowledge. With history. A flood of it blurring before his eyes. Scene after scene.

He saw a Titan who must've been hundreds of feet tall, wielding an enormous golden hammer made to fit him. A hammer wrapped in bands of Law and essence. They swirled about it like rings around a planet.

The Titan groaned and smashed, and a sea of sparks flew high. High over an anvil set in a lake of lava. And in the middle of it—coming to life—a pagoda. Taking slow shape… a disc of bloody-gold light blossomed out of it. Zane felt the Pagoda inside him flare in recognition.

That was the first instance of the Shield of the Blood Moon, he realized. That halo-thing. He paid close attention.

𝕊𝕜𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕖𝕕!

𝕊𝕙𝕚𝕖𝕝𝕕 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝔹𝕝𝕠𝕠𝕕 𝕄𝕠𝕠𝕟 [ℂ𝕠𝕞𝕞𝕠𝕟 (𝔼)]

…That was easy. This learning took almost no effort at all. Maybe because it was transmitted directly.

Then he realized—he had only learned the very beginning of it. The scene kept going. He kept paying attention.

He saw the Titan collect the treasure gingerly, between two fingers. Kneel. Drop it at the feet of an old dwarf overseeing it all from a high ledge. A dwarf with eyebrows so bushy you couldn't see his eyes. The dwarf collected it, pleased, and bonded to it.

The next scene showed that dwarf leading a charge. A battle in the middle of a desert planet. Two armies—one of dwarves, one of men—mages in silver cloaks, showering vast, sky-splitting spells from gnarled iron staffs.

But the old dwarf gave a cry and made a hand gesture; the red moon blossomed out of him. Instantly, half the enemy's spells got voided—swallowed by the redness. Stomped out where they were. Like they were blotted out of existence. It looked easy.

Zane took special note of it. He felt the knowledge welling up in his mind, more and more, the more he saw…

𝕊𝕜𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝔼𝕧𝕠𝕝𝕧𝕖𝕕!

𝕊𝕙𝕚𝕖𝕝𝕕 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝔹𝕝𝕠𝕠𝕕 𝕄𝕠𝕠𝕟 [ℂ𝕠𝕞𝕞𝕠𝕟 (𝔼) -> 𝕌𝕟𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕞𝕠𝕟 (𝔼)]

Huh.

The dwarf's side charged through, and won.

The scene shifted. The dwarf was now even older, droopier, with coarse white hair that dragged on the ground. He stood atop a balcony in a grand old castle mired in sandy dunes. All around him—surrounding him—was an army of men. Warriors.

A clean-shaven, handsome general stepped forth, pointed, roared. His armies descended upon the castle…

They won through sheer brute might. The old dwarf could block their soul attacks—but not the points of their swords.

The general snatched up the Pagoda from the dwarf's fallen body.

The scene shifted. The general was now older—clad in shiny knight's armor scattered with shining white runes. He stood in the middle of some grand arena, an arena thronged with cheering spectators. He thrust his sword at his enemy. An aged wizard with glimmering eyes and a scheming smile.

The wizard wore a big pointy hat colored like the night sky, dotted with little pinprick white stars. He wielded a staff with a crystal ball at the end—and when he cast his Technique, its milky surface began to swirl…

The air warped. Illusions exploded through the air. Storm clouds sweeping in. Vast armies of the dead rising all over. Dark mists hazing the arena. The audience gasped, entranced. Lost.

But the general's eyes were trained firmly ahead—like he could see right through all those illusions. His pupils shone red, like two full blood moons.

Zane paid close attention to that too.

𝕊𝕜𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕖𝕧𝕠𝕝𝕧𝕖𝕕!

𝕊𝕙𝕚𝕖𝕝𝕕 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝔹𝕝𝕠𝕠𝕕 𝕄𝕠𝕠𝕟 [𝕌𝕟𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕞𝕠𝕟 (𝔼) - > ℝ𝕒𝕣𝕖 (𝔼)]

The general charged right through. And carved the wizard up. In the next scene, the crowd crowned him king.

One after one, the scenes came at Zane like waters in a fast-flowing river, almost blending into each other…

And each time he came away with a little more of the Skill in his mind.

The very next scene showed the king face-down on the ground, lost in a pool of his own blood. His body was a pincushion of arrows.

All around him streamed a cadre of elves, clad in woodland greens and browns—their insignias seemed familiar to Zane. It took a moment to recognize the World Tree Faction.

A woman descended, strutting forward—she seemed a half-elf. She was dressed in light airy silks, a beauty, fair, with eyes the dark-green of the forest. She was wearing some kind of tiara made of branches. She pursed her lips at the sight.

The elves rushed around her, bowing and scraping. Zane noticed flaming ruins in the background, still lingering with motes of green essence. They'd wrecked this place. Plants blossomed around their feet as they ran, seeding a new biome. Around this woman's feet in particular.

Something about her seemed familiar… Zane watched as she lifted a dainty hand and healed a gash on her forearm. There was a mending white light—and it came away perfect. That was exactly like Reina's Skill.

The elves around her were much more powerful than she was, he just realized. He could see it in their auras. They were so dense with essence and high-tier Law it spread out from them in little hazes, their little islands of power which they imposed on reality. Just by being there.

He didn't know what to call that, but this woman didn't have that—she was at least a stage below them. And they were bowing to her.

One of the elves retrieved a pagoda from the King's corpse. He knelt and presented it to her.

"Mistress Maker!" called the elf, bowing his head. She blinked at the thing, curious, and took it.

Zane blinked. Then frowned more. That was Reina's Title after all. He kept mulling it over as he saw her wielding the Pagoda, leading her elf-army against a nest of dragons, a coven of witches. Blocking fields of illusions, and sound-wave attacks, and paralyzing lightning bolts thrown by some massive storm deity…

He was thinking about how the men had called that general king. And how the elves were calling this woman. It looked the same. It was almost like 'Mistress Maker' was more than a title—like it was some kind of position.

Before he could think on it more, the scene changed again—and this time it was the Mistress lying, eyes closed, splayed out, unmoving. A spear through her belly. Her elf-guard were all shattered, broken, strewn about—burning.

Blue and red-clad warriors fell all over them. And Zane knew those insignias too. That was the Azure Flame Faction. A burly bald warrior strode forward, fists clenched, blazing red and black—just oozing gobs of magma. Some higher fusion. He ripped the spear out of her, then grabbed the treasure floating over her corpse.

"At last," he crowed. "The Pagoda!"

This scene Zane found most disturbing. That woman reminded him too much of Reina.

He got the gist of it, though. Lots of fighting and killing—and examples of wielding the Blood Shield. Over and over. He saw a behemoth of a steel golem wrestling down the bold flame warrior, seizing the Pagoda from his mashed-up corpse. He saw a ninja in a cloak of living shadow with sickle knives whirling, blanketing the golem in so many corrosive hissing slashes it looked like a tornado. Rusting it, melting it, bringing it to its knees slash by slash… he saw an ice mage gunning down the ninja. With what looked like flintlock pistols, shooting… snowballs?

The Pagoda kept changing hands. Over and over—it didn't take long before—

𝕊𝕜𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕖𝕧𝕠𝕝𝕧𝕖𝕕!

𝕊𝕙𝕚𝕖𝕝𝕕 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝔹𝕝𝕠𝕠𝕕 𝕄𝕠𝕠𝕟 [ℝ𝕒𝕣𝕖 (𝔼) -> 𝔼𝕡𝕚𝕔 (𝔼)]

It did come pretty easy. Zane barely needed to pay attention to the Skill this time. He was more interested in whatever was going on in the background, honestly. It seemed a semi-complete history of the Pagoda's ownership, a montage flashing on and on. Not a lot of it made much sense without context but there were some nuggets in there.

More and more examples went by. He waited patiently for it to finish. He saw empires rise and fall. A kingdom of steel and gears swallowing up a kingdom of dragon-riders. A little boy from a fishing village rising to become the hero of the land—soaking up the Ghost King's soul-strikes with Blood Moon blossoms. On and on. It just kept on going.

He had already hit something of a hard wall with this kind of transmission-vision learning, though. It was like the Spirit said. He had the theory, was what it was. But it could only take you so far. Now he needed practice.

He wondered when this thing would end. He already had the Skill—he just wanted to try it out now. He guessed he had to sit through the rest. At least it was going faster now. Every ten minutes or so an interesting storyline would pop up, and he'd see a few important old powerful guys. But then they would fade to history like all the rest.

Maybe half an hour later, it finally ended. Zane was rather bored by then. And eager to get started.

***

𝕎𝕖𝕝𝕝 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕟. 𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕨𝕖 𝕡𝕝𝕒𝕪 𝕚𝕥 𝕒𝕘𝕒𝕚𝕟? said the Spirit.

"No," said Zane.

…𝕁𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕘𝕠? The Spirit seemed dubious. 𝔸𝕣𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕔𝕖𝕣𝕥𝕒𝕚𝕟?

"Yes."

𝕐𝕠𝕦'𝕧𝕖 𝕙𝕚𝕥 𝔼𝕡𝕚𝕔. 𝔸𝕝𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕪.

"Yes."

By now it seemed to be slowly getting used to him. It stared just a bit this time.

𝔼𝕣𝕣. ℝ𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 it said. 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕋𝕣𝕚𝕒𝕝, 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕟.

"Let's do it," rumbled Zane.

𝕀'𝕝𝕝 𝕤𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕠𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕕𝕣𝕒𝕘𝕠𝕟 𝕤𝕡𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕥 𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕤𝕥. 𝕎𝕖 𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕤𝕖𝕖 𝕙𝕠𝕨 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕝𝕖 𝕚𝕥.

"Okay."

It was much less pompous than with the young Emperor. No spiel about 'push your spirit to the limits' or whatever, which Zane was thankful for. It just fired the Trial up.

The mists swirled. The air began to tremble—and a ghost flickered to life. The head of a dragon, smoke trickling down its thick lips.

It was also much smaller than Zane remembered from that one vision. It materialized at about chest-height with him. Zane looked down on it. It looked up at him. It almost seemed a bit surprised to see him up there.

𝔽𝕚𝕣𝕖, 𝕏𝕒𝕟𝕒𝕥𝕙! instructed the Spirit.

The dragon took a second to get its bearings. But when it did, a smoke-storm gushed out of it.

Zane turned up his Shield.

He felt a tug on the Pagoda in his soul—and it trembled a little. Responding. Bloody-red bloomed out of it—bloomed out of him. Expanding and expanding, blowing up to fit his Soul, until it was a shining crescent moon covering him wholly…Blanketing the dragon in a bloodred light.

The dragon almost seemed embarrassed to fire on him. When it did, it looked a little like spit flying off a windshield. It vanished.

The dragon blinked at him. He blinked at the dragon.

They both blinked at the Spirit.

…𝕀𝕥 𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕤 said the Spirit faintly. 𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕡𝕒𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝔽𝕚𝕣𝕤𝕥 𝕋𝕣𝕚𝕒𝕝.