CHAPTER 436: 436: THREE KNIVES FOR A CROWN PART THREE

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He stood a long breath with his hand on the spear and the crown vanishing slowly above him, feeling the air change around the fallen three. The flats were suddenly very large and very empty. Far off, scattered dots moved where remnants had run and would keep running. None of that needed his legs.

He crouched and searched Mardek without hurry — throat pendant, command-stone cracked through its beetle back; a ring heavy with the stink of pride; a small folded script sealed with lacquer that read Orders for succession. He took the stone and the paper, left the ring, and closed the dead man’s fist around it so the desert would have something to laugh at.

Then he made the choice he owed to the living and the dead.

"Net," he said. Oru’s fallen cord and two unspent throws lay half-buried. He shook the grit from them, knotted three lengths together, and wrapped each body clean and tight—Skall first, with his spade in his grip; Oru next, straight as a rule; Mardek last, the beetle-stone tied into his sash so witnesses could learn with their eyes. Alka crouched and let Kai lash two bundles to her carry-harness with quick, brutal sailor’s knots. She took Skall and Oru without complaint. Kai set Mardek across his shoulders in a clean fireman’s lift, the spear a rail across the body to keep it still. The Wrath Crown dimmed of its own accord as if it approved the quiet.

Alka’s feathers shivered and settled. "Home?" she asked.

"Home," he said. "Let’s go."

He lifted the spear, checked the shaft for the hairline stress you miss when you are busy, and found it clean. The Wrath Crown dimmed on its own as if it were a lantern that knew when to lower itself. The air grew easier to breathe.

They moved. He flew at a pace that was not fast or slow — something between, built for long flats and long thoughts. Alka ghosted above the clouds, shadow stitching across the path like a needle closing a wound.

Halfway back, the system tried one last time to turn victory into a ledger.

[Ding! Battlefield harvest complete.

Alert: Massive EXP influx detected. Source: drone army eliminations. Approx. +12,000 EXP pending.

A rank up to seven stars is available. The system can collect all the fallen enemies cores. It is needed for the rank up. You can’t move around until the rank up is over.

Warning: back-to-back evolutions will immobilize the host for 3–4 days for full body rebuild. Aura/skills unavailable during shell phase. New skills will be unlocked.

Do you want to rank up now?]

Kai says, "No, not now. Collect all the cores. I will tell you when I want to rank up."

[Ding! Ding! Acknowledged. Battlefield star cores harvesting engaged. Dual evolution queued; execution paused pending for host confirmation.

But it can’t delay more than 24 hours. The host needs to control his aura flow for now. Otherwise it will damage the host’s aura veins. The system advises the host to rank up as soon as possible.

System Recommendation: vent aura heat and flow in short bursts to control it for next 24 hours.]

He vented once, a slow breath that made the crown shimmer and fade to a memory. The plates cooled under his skin. Sweat turned chill and then comfortable again.

He did not notice when the desert began to smell like the mountain’s wind. He was busy controlling his Aura flow. He knew only when his eyes found the first familiar firmness where stone hid shallow under sand. That was enough.

A shadow on the slope moved in the exact way Vexor signaled clear

from a distance — two small dips and a hold. Another shadow, higher, drew the same line: Skyweaver. The line on the crown lifted and sharpened around his name without making a sound.

At the first scrape shelf, Shadeclaw stood with his fist on his shield and his head bowed just enough to be a greeting and not a bow. Behind him, three rings of drones held their quiet with the easy patience that comes after blood learned something true.

Vexor walked closer to meet him and stopped at the place where promises changed hands.

"Three of them?" he asked, eyes on the net.

"Dead," Kai said. "None left to use their names to harm us."

Silvershadow’s shadow lengthened a fraction. He said, "I am glad that our enemies are dead." Then he explained everything to Kai about the females who gave up and raised the white flag.

Kai said, "Okay! I understand."

Needle let breath out he had been clever enough not to hold. Flint grinned and looked immediately guilty for it and grinned anyway.

Wolf’s tail thumped twice on stone before he remembered not to wag. He stopped wagging. His ears stayed high.

Luna came last because that was right. Miryam slept on her shoulder, soft mouth open, Luna’s hair stuck to her cheek. Luna’s eyes found Kai’s face first, then the bodies, then the crown that wasn’t there, then back to his face.

He did not speak love across the ledge. He did not need to. He touched Miryam’s cheeks with two fingers as they passed each other, and the child made a small, contented sound and burrowed deeper into Luna’s neck. That was the word that mattered.

Yavri’s women watched from their quiet rows under the mountain shade lintel. Some hands tightened on knees when they saw him. None lifted. Yavri herself rose without being called and looked down the slope at the flattening of dust where a bad law had ended.

"You cut the spine," she said. It wasn’t a question. There might have been relief in it. There wasn’t joy.

"I cut my enemies," Kai said. "Spines stay. I will kill all who want to harm me and my people. I heard you and your army raise the white flag. So, for now you all are not my enemies."

Something in her jaw eased. "Good."

He climbed to a high place with Alka stalking silently behind him and the commanders falling into one side where they would be seen but not proud. His women gathered in a half-ring — Azhara like a Sharp blade; Skyweaver with wind still tangled in her hair; Naaro at the inner arch, steady enough to hold a mountain; Lirien with soot on her cheek and a smile that had hammers in it; Akayoroi on his left side, one hand flat on stone, her eyes dark and full. Luna on his right side with Miryam on her shoulder. The rest of the girls were inside the mountain.

He stood where the wind met him and let the slope see his face.

"Listen," he said, not too loud. The stone carried it for him.