The Legend of Randidly Ghosthound

That night, Heiffal hadn’t gotten much sleep. He had a dream that kept him twitching on the edge of consciousness. He had been called forward to a battle, one very like today’s battle, and he had been stationed at the front behind a powerful figure.

Yet as the battle went on, it rapidly became clear that the figure in front of them didn’t care at all for their lives. In fact, that figure allowed more and more of Heiffal’s soldiers to die in order to drink from their deaths and grow more powerful. Worst of all, Heiffal had died too, his stomach ripped out by the claws of a Nether Beast.

The cold darkness that greedily devoured him then was something that he would probably never forget. Which meant that he woke up very confused and disoriented from this dream, with the powerful image of his own death hanging over him as he prepared to march to battle.

Heiffal obviously didn’t want to die, but he was a professional soldier; he understood why he might need to die on this day. This area had only been recently captured by the Nexus from the terrible Nether savages. Without such a staging area, the Aether would forever be without useful thoroughfares to proactively destroy the Nether’s forces.

This was necessary.

Yet it had not been an easy go of it from the start. The grouped up reinforcements simply didn’t have enough time training together to form a cohesive unit. Even with the benefits of the fortifications, casualties began to mount. And that was before the Nether Gatekeeper had made its appearance.

Luckily, a young man stepped forward and stemmed the bleeding before the entire trope was slaughtered. From time to time as Heiffal rotated through being on watch, being support, then being on the front itself, back to a resting position, he glanced at the young man. He heard talk about the young man all around him.

When the claw of dense Nether had crashed to the ground toward the young man who had held off the Nether Gatekeeper, Heiffal had been close enough to be blasted backward but not close enough to have been simply snuffed out as some had been. In the wake of the blast, Heiffal found himself burning and face down in the dirt.

As Heiffal had blew out a mouthful of dirt and winced as Nether corroded his skin, he had struggled to his feet and witnessed the agonizing death-by-dissolution of some of his squad that he had probably missed by only a few meters.

Heiffal’s heart tightened as he looked around and saw the annihilated fortifications in the surrounding twenty meters. They had been so reliant on in the past. If necessary, Heiffal would gladly give his life to protect all the innocents who would remain safe as long as they established a base here. Yet Heiffal couldn’t get over the impression that what they did here wouldn’t be enough. The dream he had this morning weighed heavily on his mind. The figure defending them might be different, but the outcome seemed to be the same.

With this number of Nether Beasts, once more he would die-

It was at that moment that the smoke clear enough for Heiffal to see through to the figure standing between the forces of Aether and the forces of Nether. As reinforcements, Heiffal and his fellow soldiers didn’t know much about the chain of command here. They had been made aware that they were under Lady Iellaya, but for most of the average soldiers like Heiffal, they didn’t know much more than that. Likely the commanding officers were informed who could give them orders, but with the attack a short time away it wasn’t something that had been addressed in the lead up to the battle.

Even so, there were whispers about this man. Ghosthound, they called him. Although there were conflicting rumors about who exactly he was, while they were in the resting portion of the rotation a good friend had told Heiffal that the Ghosthound was Lady Iellaya’s left hand and the one in charge of mobilizing the common soldiers.

And he had certainly been the one here as the Nether Gatekeeper surged forward to slaughter them, but it was more than that. Even if the battlefield was extremely chaotic, it was impossible to miss the frequent interference of roots at very convenient times, vastly weakening the power of the Nether Beasts. And also that strange, chaotic aura that everyone carried, visibly empowering their attacks in small ways.

Just as Heiffal was reaching down toward a nearby soldier to help him to his feet, there were two loud cracks that made both of the soldiers jump. They looked into each other’s eyes in fear then looked forward. Beyond the Ghosthound, two more Nether Gatekeepers had crashed into the ground.

Even as Heiffal assisted his fellow in standing, his heart trembled once again. Even if it was possible to protect others by sacrificing themselves here, would their sacrifice really end up mattering…? With this number of Nether Gatekeepers-

That terrible darkness that Heiffal had felt when he died-

“Heh, seems like you don’t want this continuing for much longer,” The Ghosthound’s voice was so young. So much younger than Heiffal had expected. Yet it was bright and clear, even as the Great Rift hung above him like a headsman’s ax. “But did you think I was stalling just to bleed your footsoldiers? Hey Acri… have you been enjoying your meal?”

This time Heiffal’s shock was one of anticipation. For the first time since he had seen the sea of Nether Beasts that wanted to kill them, he felt the stirrings of hope. With this young man in front of them, they could accomplish anything.

As if to evidence the inexplicable capability of the Ghosthound, a Nether Beast was skewered through the chest as something erupted out of the approaching army. Mid-air, the slender spear grew to an incomparable size. Although it certainly grew longer, what was the most impressive was the way it widened to become a huge spike to rip out the heart of these tenacious Nether Beasts.

Heiffal took a step forward toward the Ghosthound’s shoulders. His eyes were fixed on the sleek dark grey armor that covered his back and ran down his right arm. Barely able to control his breathing, Heiffal took another step forward. Incredible… this amount of power… is this man really just someone from the Third Cohort like me…?

In the next second, Heiffal was blasted backward by a huge surge of energy that erupted out of the end of the Ghosthound’s lance. By the time that Heiffal had righted himself, he saw the Ghosthound piercing one Nether Gatekeeper with his lance and smashing another Nether Gatekeeper to the ground like the dog it was.

Heiffal hadn’t even noticed the threat from above when somehow the Ghosthound flicked his gaze upward and materialized a long tail of bone that struck upward and pierced into the six-armed Nether Gatekeeper’s chest. The moment stretched as the Ghosthound surveyed them all. Then the three Nether Gatekeepers all collapsed and fell back, leaving only the tall figure with black hair standing in the closest portion of the ditch.

His body was slightly angled, so Heiffal was able to see the tight smile that stretched across the Ghosthound’s face. A smile that Heiffal definitely did not remember from his dream this morning. That shadowy figure had never smiled. Combined with the extremely small shakes that Heiffal could see in the Ghosthound’s shoulders, he could only come to one reasonable conclusion; this man was having fun. He could barely control his laughter.

The Ghosthound generously waited for the three Nether Gatekeepers to recover enough to stand. Heiffal could feel the valiant spirit of this man burning in the sky, driving away the last, lingering vestiges of that disturbing dream he had had. After all, what did three Nether Gatekeepers matter? The Ghosthound would forge a path forward, no matter how difficult it was.

It doesn’t matter how difficult it will be. The tightness in Heiffal’s shoulders relaxed. The ghost of fear that had been hanging over him from this morning was finally exorcised. This is worth doing. As long as that’s true… we cannot flinch.

When the sky opened up and began to belch Nether Gatekeepers down toward their forces, Heiffal was already shouting and gesticulating to get the surrounding forces in order. Like him, most seemed motivated enough by watching the Ghosthound that they rapidly shifted into formations that oozed determination.

Toward the spectacle descending toward them, Heiffal looked up once and then ignored it. He continued moving along the lines, shouting and gathering everyone up in preparation. After all, there was still work to do today.

****

“Goddamnit, if it wasn’t for that fool…!” The Interim Commander whined as he looked worriedly over to Lady Iellaya’s camp next to him. “He attracted so much attention! How are we supposed to handle eight Nether Gatekeepers!”

Vualla figured it was pointless to point out that due to the fact that there were two hundred Nether Gatekeepers, the entire frontline was in a similar situation. In fact, the presence of Lady Iellaya’s camp now dealing with twenty-six Nether Gatekeepers probably would end up being a boon for Commander Terith’s camp. Yet tension kept Vualla’s mouth locked shut.

Don’t die on me Randidly, Vualla tapped her metal gauntlets lightly together as an offering. Don’t die before we can tear down this System together.

The heavy darkness that Vualla carried swirled tightly around her heart, pulling at the knot of emotions that Vualla had released. At this point Vualla practically expected such a drain, so she didn’t put much mind to it. And she wasn’t shocked that the darkness quickly found that the knot of emotions was made out of a few cores strings of emotions that weren’t superfluous and wouldn’t be extinguished by the cold.

Taking that small victory, Vualla was humming in pleasure as she prepared to move out when a voice tugged on those emotions and spun them upward to the fore of Vualla’s attention. Do you wish to win this battle?

Vualla froze. Without waiting for Vualla to respond, the darkness asked another question.

How many foes can you handle at your current strength? Enough to save these people?

“What…” Vualla began, but already the strange darkness shifted forward in her core. Vualla could feel the way it was pulling itself more tightly together. Where before it seemed like a layer of heavy gauze that muffled her entire experience, now it spiraled together to form a heavy iron lock that seemed to be directly binding Vualla’s heart.

The darkness observed Vualla for a few more seconds. Then it spoke again, its voice lined with curiosity. You know how to take more power. Absorb it from these departing souls. You cannot deny that your own power is insufficient. Or that this will provide you with more power.

You refuse out of principle, but are your principles worth allowing so many people to die…?

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