The Legend of Randidly Ghosthound

Blanketed by the darkness of a completely silent night in the countryside, Melanie lay on her back and looked up at the peaked roof of her tent. Her fingers tightened on the thin fabric of her blanket. She had killed the giant fox from which the blanket was made herself, but now she was gripping the rich skin so tightly it might rip. There was only a slight chill on Earth right now, even at night, but she was drenched in freezing sweat.

The image that had startled her awake was vanishing, but that made it even more disconcerting. The silence of the camp around her was almost oppressive.

She had meant to get some sleep before the cooperative training of the taskforce began tomorrow at dawn, but she had been awoken in the middle of the night. And now, no matter what she did, she couldn’t force herself to relax. Cold fingers of fear gripped her so tightly that Melanie wondered if she would ever thaw.

Melanie Fenn had been at Warlord’s side from the beginning of Zone 11’s journey. Together they founded a Village, endured the early tides of monsters, overcame the sudden Tribulation, and finally overcame the Raid Dungeon in order to become part of New Earth. Unfortunately, the situation waiting on the other side was slightly more chaotic than they had expected; an epic Dungeon was spewing out high-Level monsters that were a threat to the Zone’s survival.

It was such a situation that Zone 11 had to rely on Donnyton’s experience in order to stabilize themselves. But even then, Melanie hadn’t felt fear. In fact, she had even been a little bit excited to escape from their isolation and find a bigger, wider world waiting for them. They were powerful and capable; although people had died, Melanie always had a hard time not blaming the dead for making some mistake that had doomed them. She was part of Warlord’s party, and they had always been the winners.

They would not make those same mistakes. With time, effort, and cooperation, their party could overcome any trial the world could throw in front of them.

And yet…

“What the hell is that…?” Melanie whispered in the darkness of her tent. No one answered her, as though the now faded reverberations had lingered long enough to steal away her words after they had left her mouth. Likely no one would be able to answer her, at least with a more detailed explanation than what she already knew.

Because Melanie was one of the most powerful individuals that could utilize images that existed in Zone 11. So she definitely knew that what she had felt was an image. Yet that power…

It echoed across the storm-clouded sky. For a full ten seconds, it felt like Melanie couldn’t breathe. It was a sphere of darkness, shiny and round. It was an egg, hatching the end of the world. The power of the image was such that it covered vast distances. Although she couldn’t tell where it originated from, it was clearly far to North and West. And the source was just as obvious: this was an image of Randidly Ghosthound. One that he hadn’t displayed in the past, but his touch was unmistakable.

That egg had sat on her chest for ten long seconds and eviscerated every ounce of optimism and hope in Melanie’s body.

This time, the Ghosthound’s image was an open mouth that seemed capable of sucking in the entire world. It was a hunger that was so pure and primal that it didn’t seem like it could belong to a human. An egg that would only hatch when everything else bright and lively had collapsed around it.

Then the image slowly faded, its echoes gradually dissipating. Melanie shivered and did her best to fall back to sleep.

*****

The problem with post-System combat, Mrs. Hamilton thought idly. Is we have had generations of history telling us that an individual cannot accomplish much on the grand stage of battle. That what we need are massed and well-trained numbers. Of course, more powerful guns also made numbers less important, but they didn’t incite the same sort of chaos that this does...

Mrs. Hamilton was looking casually out the window at the hastily assembled parade grounds outside. Donnyton’s and Zone 11’s elite forces filled the air with magical flames, sonic booms, and loud yells as they energetically sparred to get familiar with each other’s abilities. Skills and weapons flew back and forth as the armored soldiers participated in 1 v 1, 5 v 5, and 20 v 20 battles. Each side had only brought around fifty people, so in total, the task force had 103 individuals taking part. The fights had started with a little bit of extra tension as the two groups postured, but very quickly that was stamped out by those in charge.

They were here to protect the Earth, after all. They didn’t have time for pride. And when that didn’t quite stamp out the spark of competition, Paolo, Kayle, and Warlord’s second, who was named Melanie, had stepped forward to beat the unwillingness to work out of their respective sides. By this, the second hour, of the group’s training, everyone was focusing on the enemy in front of them: the mysterious Corrupted Invaders.

Both groups had been able to arrive last night and were given time off to rest, but that wasn’t the reason that everyone was training so desperately. The idea had been that everyone could rest and then get a fresh start, but Mrs. Hamilton didn’t think anyone got much sleep last night. Not after Randidly seemingly had a breakthrough in his third image that shook all of New Earth.

At least it was an honest display of his current strength. But to have it happen so far away with such wide-reaching reverberations… there will be consequences for this. People will learn to fear. Mrs. Hamilton sighed inwardly. Is this the Path you wanted, Randidly? Or did you feel like there was no other choice…? You were a legend for so long, and now I don’t doubt that people like Theodora and Phirun will start painting you as a monster...

Even she, powerful as she was, felt small as that image had rippled overhead. The far-reaching pressure it had released made it difficult to even move, although Mrs. Hamilton could tell it was only due to her own extreme sensitivity to images that the effect was so egregious. It was different than standing in front of Randidly when he had manifested his three images. It was even different from feeling the power that the Overseer of their Cohort had unleashed. That had been a polished weapon that Octavius had simply lifted to demonstrate Earth’s inferiority.

This felt more akin to a natural force that had the capacity to destroy the world. It was an angel of death being born. It was…

Doom. It felt like an impending doom. Mrs. Hamilton’s hand tightened on a book with which she had been toying.

While the soldiers continued to drill outside, seven people stood around inside the central building. Mrs. Hamilton stood by the far wall of the tent between the window and a bookshelf, drawing her fingers across the spines of books in an absentminded manner while her gaze focused at the training forces. Across the interior of the building, Warlord and his two aides, Melanie and Kirk, were engaged in a heated discussion that they were only making cursory efforts to keep quiet.

From her tone and expression, Melanie was deeply aggravated by something.

Meanwhile, Kirk adjusted his glasses and kept shooting nervous glances over toward the space where Donny and the Cortez siblings were leaning over a map of the Danger Zone they were about to enter, the Broken Caverns. When their leader replied in a curt tone, Melanie threw her fiery red hair over her shoulder and began to argue quietly back with Warlord. For a few more lines they struggled back and forth before Melanie huffed in irritation and lowered her shoulders.

Mrs. Hamilton was happy to see that everyone from Donnyton pretended not to notice the discussion, tacitly agreeing to let the matter go. It was good to see that both of the Cortez siblings were developing the maturity to be a more public face of Donnyton.

Not that Mrs. Hamilton even needed to listen in to their conversation in order to know what the argument was about; Melanie had some concerns about the disposition of the troops. After some discussion, control of the expedition was placed completely within Donny’s hands. Which meant that the Zone 11 forces were underneath the authority of a single Village and were largely expected to join into the existing framework of a Squad and cooperate fully.

Obviously Melanie had suppressed Zone 11’s troops when they tried to posture, but that didn’t mean she wanted their people to be so oppressed.

Melanie was likely pointed out that putting everyone into squads effectively limited the strength of the Zone 11 individuals and she was right. They were used to fighting independently and the more team-focused method of Donnyton hampered them. And in the grand scheme of things, Mrs. Hamilton privately believed that the young woman had a good point. But what they needed was power now. And the squad format would hopefully provide that.

Mrs. Hamilton was much more interested in how completely Warlord’s rebuke seemed to shut Melanie down, but she let her mind wander away from the disagreement; it wasn’t polite to look too closely at your coworkers, after all.

Clearing his throat, Warlord walked back over toward the table with a wry smile. “Apologies for the delay… Well anyway, if that’s all settled, I believe it’s time we start the discussions about going into the Broken Caverns. Have we heard back from our scouts?”

Isabella Cortez nodded. “It’s like we expected. Most of the enemies toward the front are a variation on metal golems, but the Corrupted Invaders have a camp deeper within. The scouts didn’t push the issue because they have a perimeter set up pretty deep in the Caverns. The invaders appear to rely mainly on mobility and ranged weaponry. It’s definitely within our capabilities to take the Caverns-”

“You want me to soak up all that ranged damage, don’t you,” Donny sighed.

The corner of Isabella’s mouth quirked upward, but she didn’t fully smile. “Based on the abilities of everyone available, that would be the most efficient path. If you can protect the group long enough for us to close the distance, we can let what our people do what they do best.”

Warlord looked at Donny with interest. “A defensive focused Class? Quite useful.”

From the gleam in Warlord’s eyes, he had it in mind to try and recruit Donny to come work for him. It made Mrs. Hamilton want to roll her eyes.

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