The Legend of Randidly Ghosthound

Abiodun sprinted across the long dirt road that led to the front lines, the off-duty agent Vion Slit a constant presence at his side. With a short sideways glance, it was obvious that Vion had no difficulty keeping up with the pace that Abiodun set, and was instead using most of his attention to study the slowly growing working in the sky. While Abiodun had gone, the Nether King’s grand formation had become incredibly intricate.

Gritting his teeth at the memory of being sent away, Abiodun accelerated slightly. After exhausting his image earlier to fight against so many Nether Gatekeepers, he was already pushing the limits of his remaining stamina to go this quickly. Yet… if he could get back even a second faster...

Vion accelerated without comment, still keeping his attention upward on the growing pattern in the Nether veins.

Vion wore a long, ornate leather coat that spoke of wealth, but otherwise seemed just like an average wanderer. It was somewhat of a letdown after everything Abiodun had heard about the finest forces in the Aether armies. There was no outward indication that this man was a member of the extremely prestigious Xyrt Brigade. But Abiodun didn’t miss how not even a ripple of an image escaped the man’s body, even as he casually sped forward at a speed that Abiodun needed to push himself to keep up with.

Powerful and controlled. A dangerous foe, Abiodun judged critically. He did s best not to allow the obvious fact that he would never be this man’s equal to sour his mood further.

“Once we cross this ridge, the battlefield proper will be visible,” Abiodun grunted. The longing in his chest to understand the situation on the battlefield grew by the second. His heart hurt to know that his connection to Lady Iellaya no longer could give him a general feel for the situation. All that remained was the almost insulting reassurance that they were connected. The numbness had reached critical levels when they were far apart.

All the sense of intimacy had disappeared. And their miscommunication before he had been sent to fetch Vion-

Luckily Vion had already made it through the military checkpoint without Abiodun’s assistance, so he had only needed to travel half the distance laid out in their original plan. Plus, he had completely avoided the paperwork of bringing a ‘civilian’ through the military checkpoint. This provided Abiodun with plenty of time to return while the thick of the fighting was still occurring. His place was at Lady Iellaya’s side. Anything that helped with that was a positive thing, so Abiodun didn’t question Vion’s methods.

“Truly a Nether King,” Vion frowned upward toward the complicated pattern being drawn in the Great Rift. Every second allowed it to grow more complete and ominous. “And this power… not an average King, at that. Hmph, how dare they try to hide this harvest for themselves… this Lord Miln… well, justice will be dispensed. If things are truly as you say... I will handle the punishment personally and immediately.”

Vion’s voice was so icy and certain that Abiodun’s mind was briefly thrown by the suddenness of the sentiment. But then Abiodun rationalized that after knowing he was coming here, it made sense that Vion would investigate the leadership and make some preparations to handle the situation. But from that tone of voice, it was immediately clear that Vion’s intended punishment was death.

...a decisive bunch, Abiodun thought.

Suddenly, a shift occurred in the Great Rift above them. Almost a third of the blue veins present in the formation flickered and vanished. For a brief second, the working seemed to strain and stretch underneath its own weight as so many supporting lines disappeared. Some portions began to droop. But then the veins sprung back to furious activity, recreating the vanished support patterns.

“Ah, perfect. We still have time to move,” Vion’s stride lengthened and devoured the remaining distance toward the ridge that was the final visibility screen before the battlefield. At this point, the sounds of the chaotic combat drifted over the broken and orange dirt to reach their ears.

Vion grimaced. “Even I… would hesitate to face such a Nether King alone. Once we arrive on site, I can set up a portable communications array, and-”

There was a frozen moment where Abiodun was glancing sideways at Vion, considering this man on whom they had pinned their hopes. Then a flicker of uneasy struck Abiodun from nowhere.

Things after that began to happen very, very quickly.

There was a blur of motion and suddenly there was a figure standing directly in front of Abiodun and Vion. The figure seemed to have materialized rather than moved, suddenly becoming a roadblock that they needed to circumvent. Vion’s eyes widened. The figure moved with impossible quickness, bringing a huge arm up and clotheslining Vion.

Yelping, Vion’s momentum carried his legs forward for a brief second, while that shadowy figure lifted up the Xyrt Brigade agent and slammed him into the ground and produced a huge crunching noise. The orange stone cracked immediately, spraying dust and pebbles in a scattered wave of shrapnel.

“I- I’m from the Xyrt Brigade,” Vion whined in a high-pitch tone as he was physically lifted once more. His hands instantly crackled with electricity, but when he brought his hands up to the grip on his collar, the other’s image completely suppressed his. It wasn’t even a contest. “If you do this-”

Vion was silenced by another brutal slam into the ground, forcing the air from the lungs of the Xyrt Brigade agent. Then the figure casually tossed Vion to the side like he was a misbehaving child.

Blinking, Abiodun recognized the figure. For a second, his tongue forgot how to move. “Vualla? What the hell are you doing! That man- he’s our only hope of escaping from Lord Miln’s madness! Otherwise, the Nether King-”

Abiodun didn’t even notice the intervening moments that must have passed. First he was standing there, then he was bent over. It was like he woke up and Vualla’s fist had already smashed into his chest, shattering his stone torso and doing significant damage to his internal organs. A terrible image of condensed destruction rushed up through the point of impact, seemingly gripping Abiodun’s throat and squeezing it closed. Coughing feebly, Abiodun collapsed sideways onto the ground.

“Wait here for a bit, I’ll be back for you,” Vualla said to Abiodun. Then she turned away and sauntered calmly over to Vion, who was struggling to his feet. Once more electricity crackled around his limbs, swimming in the surrounding air like water serpents.

Vion’s hands slowly orbited his body in some sort of defensive fighting stance.“You caught me by surprise before, but now-”

With three vicious punches, Vualla beat Vion physically into the ground. Even shellshocked as he was, Abiodun could hear the sounds of bones breaking. She then continued to pound the helpless Vion with such force that it created a tiny little stone coffin in the dirt. With a little assistance from Vualla’s fists, Vion’s body was twisted and bent to fit into the hole.

Then, with all the respect one would treat a trash bag, Vualla lifted up Vion and held him at arm’s length. Still coughing, Abiodun attempted to get up, but that destructive image from Vualla’s punch reigned supreme in his body. It seemed to somehow know every avenue of his Willpower, utilizing his earlier flaw he had created in his image for power in order to paralyze him.

Gritting his teeth, Abiodun forced his body to slowly move. He could tell that Vualla and Vion were talking, but both were speaking so quietly that Abiodun couldn’t make out the words.

If it wasn’t for this damn coughing…! Abiodun’s body trembled with the violence of the exertion to break out of this situation, yet he still remained paralyzed. The image was too strong.

Casually, Vualla threw a punch at the helpless Vion and caved his face in. Then, probably for good measure, she gripped his neck and physically ripped off his head. It came away with a portion of yellowed spine still dangling. Blood splattered down onto the orange dirt. Both the body and the head/spine were tossed in the small grave that Vualla had created earlier, using Vion himself like a pickaxe.

Then, with crimson streams of blood running down off of her heavy gauntlets, Vualla turned and walked back over to Abiodun.

At that moment, Abiodun felt very, very cold. Resolve filled him. Although he didn’t quite understand why Vualla would do this, her decisiveness told him one thing; she wouldn’t want survivors. “Kill me then, you bitch.”

Vualla just chuckled. Then she looked upward and gestured downward, and a little bit of the swirling darkness the grand formation was gathering wove its way down to Abiodun. As it came closer, it seemed to solidify from a strange amorphous feeling into a gas, and then further condense itself to become an inky black liquid that pooled above him.

Very quickly about an ale barrel’s worth of black liquid pulsed slowly above Abiodun’s head. Vualla’s face was in shadow as she looked down toward Abiodun, but he could see the twisted shape of her smile, stretching grotesquely like an old scar across her face. “Why are you so willing to die, Abiodun? Because you’ve finally accomplished your goal…? Or because you know that Lady Iellaya doesn’t need you any longer?”

Abiodun could only cough violently. He wanted to deny what she was saying, but he couldn’t get around the cough to form any words. His tongue was fat and helpless. And there was a dark whisper in the back of Abiodun’s head that was asking the question that he so feared to face. The question that plagued him since Randidly Ghosthound had empowered Lady Iellaya’s Class.

If she still needed you, why are you here?

Vualla’s eyes seemed to glow the dark, murky blue of seas in a storm. “If she still needed you, why are you here?”

With a supreme effort of will, Abiodun pressed down the urgent cough and opened his mouth. Yet all the arguments he wanted to throw out there seemed feeble in the face of the truth that Lady Iellaya had ordered him to come out here and kept that fool Randidly Ghosthound by her side. And in that moment of hesitation, the liquid darkness surged downward and forced itself into his throat.

Choking and gagging on the darkness, Abiodun decisively shut his mouth and felt his body strain to vomit back up the weird liquid. Yet it wiggled around the decisive upheavals of his stomach, working itself deeper into his body. Even worse, his mouth closed, the liquid didn’t stop its attempts. It swirled around, pressing painfully into his tear ducts and ripping its way into Abiodun’s body.

It came for his nose and ears, practically drowning him. All Abiodun felt was a terrible panic and a growing sense of cold. All he wanted to do was scream.

Vualla continued to smile down at him and silently watch.

*****

Lord Miln’s troops charged forward without any trouble whatsoever. Sometimes they needed to shove away Nether Beasts, but often those Nether Beasts were only too happy to launch attacks on their fellows once the Aether soldiers pointed them in the right direction. Very quickly they moved out past the edge of the chaotic combat and reached the badlands, within striking distance of the Great Rift above them.

Lord Miln kept the pace up, and behind him his troops shot forward quickly, aiming to get as close as possible before the Nether responded. And it was clear that the trouble was not just below for the Nether King; in the blue veins remaining above, there seemed to be several different factions that were trying to manage everything at once and were failing pretty equally at everything. The growth of the working had stalled out.

“The formation luckily took a heavy blow.” Ileot grinned upward. “Not flashy, yes… but it would have been hard to shake the Nether King if he had entrenched itself there.”

“What is the function of the formation?” Lord Miln asked curiously as the two continued to lead the rest forward.

Ileot grimaced and wiggled his stubby and hairless fingers. “Partially a buffer, so space won’t collapse just from the weight of the Nether King’s presence. Which aides us, but… in exchange for that buffer, the power of the Nether King is amplified to a ridiculous degree. I have not seen it in person… but those sorts of fixtures become the bases that the Nether has used to take back some of their ancestral lands that we have previously liberated. Such workings are troublesome things, even for someone like me.”

“Truly so powerful?” Lord Miln craned his neck to look up to the complicated formation in the Great Rift above them. Even though several large chunks had been ripped out by Ileot’s abilities, the size was still something that dwarfed the whole of the battlefront. It was a huge mass of squirming blue veins, one that couldn’t be fully grasped without turning and scanning the whole sky.

“Do you have time for idle questions?” Ileot sneered at Lord Miln. “You’re up, bucko.”

Without the benefit of the vein system to aid them, the two figures simply shot rapidly downward out of the Great Rift. But it was clear that these two Nether Heralds were more powerful than the others that had gone to deal with Lady Iellaya.

Huffing lightly, Lord Miln cracked his knuckles. It was all for this. It was time for him to stop hiding and seize his chance.

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!