The Legend of Randidly Ghosthound

Gabriel Swacc has the piece.

Raymund Ballast felt his hands clenching in fists as he stood on the humming teleportation platform. For the first time since his brother was born, he felt the entirety of his world’s fate resting on his shoulders. His heartbeat began to accelerate; his people could not afford another failure. And perhaps because of how personally Raymund had taken that failure, his thoughts went to that enigmatic phrase he had scrutinized for the past two years.

Gabriel Swacc has the piece.

Raymund’s mind was laser-focused on the last message his brother had sent him as the teleporter whisked him away to the location where he would be spending three months training. This training would be his chance to prove himself. Then, hopefully with his edges honed, Raymund would fight against the Nether Invasion on the Fifth Cohort and achieve spectacular results, thereby earning him the influence needed to look into that name and find out what was this ‘piece’.

Raymund was vaguely aware of the mysterious Swacc Family and had heard rumors about the shady practices it engaged in to spread its own influence throughout the Nexus. His was a planet that had passed the Third Calamity hundreds of years ago and seen its triumphant hero mysteriously disappear shortly after the planet was directly connected to the Nexus. Since then, their Aether allotment had steadily dried up, leaving more and more of the population to slowly waste away. It had progressed to the point that Raymnund’s people had lost all hope.

But then Techetadore had born. Even Raymund had watched his younger brother grow through those first few years and somehow sensed that this young man was different. He was an individual who could change the fate of an entire world.

After twenty years of explosive growth, Techetdore headed to the Nexus to fulfill the expectations of his entire world. And considering Techetadore Ballast’s potential, it seemed reasonably likely that he could have been recruited to serve the Swacc Family. Raymund could practically see it. A young, foolhardy, and slightly desperate Techetadore arriving at the Nexus to look for work. The sinister Swacc Family immediately taking notice...

Raymund beared his fangs into the melting void of the teleportation corridor. Techet is cutthroat and decisive while fighting, but he… he never knew the despair that the rest of us lived and breathed before he was born. He probably never considered that he could someday encounter a situation that he couldn’t overcome...

Yet even if Raymund’s brother had been recruited for some nefarious purpose, why had he simply sent that message without saying anything more? Why had he not sent any Aether to their steadily dying home planet? Why had it been two years without any new news?

With a lurch, Raymund Ballast and the thousands of recruits around him arrived at the Fifth Cohort Rally Station. Towering giants, slimy humanoids, and growling beasts shuddered and tried to maintain their balance. Raymund swayed lightly, but stayed completely upright while several of the people in the surroundings collapsed into each other, setting off a series of shoving matches. For many of these people, this week had seen the first major teleportation they had experienced. Even now, they were struggling to cope and more than willing to take it out on each other.

Meanwhile, Raymund had experienced teleportation before. About six months after Techetadore had ascended to the Nexus, he had earned enough to have Raymund visit. His brother had seemed exhausted, but he had been as bright and optimistic as Raymund remembered. His brother didn’t mention any details but said he would be able to secure a steady stream of Aether soon. So Raymund had returned to their home planet with the good news for his people that soon, their prayers would be answered; Techetadore had succeeded.

Then, one month after that…

Gabriel Swacc has the piece.

No one blamed Raymund, obviously. But something had died as more and more people lost hope. Their culture withered and receded into the dark places of their homes. The cities had become ominously silent.

Even while most of the surrounding recruits gathered their feet beneath them and sorted out which individuals were the most powerful, the majority of these people gave Raymund a wide birth. As a humanoid Vulpine standing at three meters tall, Raymund’s rich fur and three thick tails often intimidated smaller creatures. In addition, Raymund’s uniform was a forest green, whereas most of the surrounding recruits wore bland grey uniforms. Raymund’s tails swished back and forth as he cast a heavy gaze around at the surroundings. His yellow eyes only caught one other individual wearing the green uniform in this current batch.

The green uniform signified that they were part of the elite squad. They would be personally trained by some war hero from the frontlines who had actual experience fighting the Nether. It had taken Raymund a lot of effort to get into the elite unit. Yet disappointingly, the other green-uniformed individual seemed like a perfectly normal humanoid. He was short and slight with pale skin. Yet as Raymund looked at him, the humanoid turned around and returned his gaze. His pale eyes were remarkably clear, even at this distance.

Raymund furrowed his brow. Not a single individual in the elite unit can be underestimated…These are the people from which I need to stand out.

Not that Raymund could sense anything dangerous from this fellow elite. But the pressure Raymund felt now stemmed from the fact that he had only been placed into the elite squad for being the top scorer in the general recruitment drive. The recruiters had been full of praises for Raymund, but that was just in comparison to the normal recruits.

From what Raymund could gather, he was the only member of the elite squad that had been tested. All the others didn’t even need to bother with it. They relied on connections to secure a place beneath the Head Drill Sergeant.

There was a shout from the edge of the teleporter, which pulled Raymund’s attention from his fellow elite. The group of recruits began to move. A gelatinous cube with a grey uniform steadily dissolving inside of it oozed steadily forward in front of Raymund toward the edge of the teleporter. After one last glance toward the other green uniform, Raymond squinted around at the Rally Station. Despite the fact that most of it seemed to be a featureless red-stone plateau orbiting the Nexus, Raymund could see a tall building next to a forest in the distance, which was probably where the Drill Sergeants stayed.

Meanwhile, the recruits trooped steadily forward toward a gathering of ugly, squat buildings situated a short way from the teleporter. As soon as their group got off the Engraved mechanism, the next batch arrived with a flash of light and joined them in a river of bodies toward those grey buildings. The speed slowed as their group approached the buildings, but there were several guards at a tent rapidly giving each recruit directions to the place that would be their home for the next three months.

As Raymund approached, a guard caught his eye and jerked his chin to the side; very obviously, there were a hundred individuals in the green uniforms waiting off to the side as the grey clothed recruits were sent off in every direction. Raymund rolled his shoulders, swished his tail, and strode out of the main stream to join his fellow elites.

When he arrived amongst them, he drew very little attention. Most seemed either too nervous to pay attention or too engrossed in their own minor conversation to pay him any notice. It was only a massive grey dog, perhaps twice Raymund’s size with a green uniform comically ill-fitted around its torso, that opened an eye and regarded the newly arrived Foxman. Then the dog snorted and laid its head back down, content to nap. The slender humanoid that Raymund had noticed earlier also wound his way out of the crowd and followed in Raymund’s wake.

They exchanged a glance as they approached the elite group together. After a hesitation, the smaller man extended his hand. “...hello. We will be training together from now on, so… I’m Benjamin. It’s nice to meet you.”

Raymund’s clawed hand was twice the size of Benjamin’s but he couldn’t deny the rush of relief he felt as the other recruit, who hadn’t needed to be tested, acknowledged him so easily. The tension in Raymund’s chest eased, if only slightly. He shook Benjamin’s hand. “I’m Raymund. It is an auspicious meeting.”

With some of the tension gone, the two walked together toward the place where the elites congregated. As they approached, they could hear the conversation that was happening in the midst of the group: the recruits were gossiping about their Head Drill Sergeant.

A squat being composed entirely of fire was speaking as they walked into the loose circle “-say he’s been secretly trained by Commandant Wick, the most brutal military Commander in the history of the Nexus, for a hundred years. He’s more monster than civilized creature, preferring corporeal punishment to all other training methods.”

All the gazes in the circle shifted toward a slender woman covered in brown fur. She pursed her lips. “My grandfather and Drill Sergeant Ghosthound only met the other day. There is no truth to these rumors.”

“Keh, of course you deny it,” A being with dusky grey skin and white hair to his shoulders shook his head. Ram’s horns curled away from the sides of his head.

The fire elemental nodded solemnly at the young woman. “...be that as it may, it cannot be denied that our Drill Sergeant was sent to the Frontlines for using forbidden Skills. Then, while he was there, so many of the Commanders began mysteriously dying that they had no choice but to promote him. When the Nether King attacked, he erected a powerful castle that inexplicably protected his troops, while all other groups were decimated.”

Raymund noticed a small movement out of the corner of his eye. A young man with extremely pale skin shivered at as the fire elemental spoke, reaching up and wrapping his arms around himself as though he was briefly struck by a chill wind. Raymund sniffed; that young man stunk of fear.

The flame elemental, the ram demon, and the brown-furred young woman continued to debate the facts surrounding their Drill Sergeant as more and more of the elite squad arrived. Soon, all two hundred had gathered and the mood began to change. The elites glanced at each other and then over toward the guards directing the other recruits, wondering where they should be headed.

Raymund and Benjamin shared a glanced. Raymund barred his teeth. “Have you noticed that the attitudes of the guards are perhaps… peculiar?”

Benjamin nodded solemnly and pressed his lips together for a second before he spoke. “Even if they are afraid of us due to our backgrounds… we are still recruits. There is no reason to avoid us so completely But they seem to dread us. I suspect that there is a kernel of truth to these rumors about our Drill Sergeant… and these guards have witnessed it.”

Just as the group of recruits in forest green uniforms was beginning to get antsy and consider approaching the guards, there was a massive pulse of an image from the tall building to their West. Raymund instinctively tensed as an overwhelmingly strong image of an enormous, life-giving tree spread in the air above them. At the same time, he didn’t miss the way the guards flinched. All the recruits in grey uniforms paused and looked up at the sky with wide eyes.

But it was clearly a message because as that image spread out, all of the forest green uniforms began to resonate. Their Head Drill Sergeant had summoned all of the recruits.

The discussion amongst the elites finally trailed off. They looked at each other with serious expressions. Then they began to walk toward the source of the image. The guards watched them go with deep frowns on their faces. Honestly, the intensity of their scrutiny and the tight implacability of their emotions began to unnerve Raymund.

What have these guards witnessed? Raymund wondered.

It only took them about five minutes to cross the distance and arrive at a very clear boundary in the direction of the tall building. There was a low wall covered in Engravings running to the left and right, and a wide ivory arch in the middle to allow them entrance into the area. To their left beyond the boundary was a thick bamboo forest. To their right were several small gardens.

Two individual stood beyond the archway, idly watching the recruits approach. The figure on the left was a rocky humanoid with thick limbs. To the right was a pale being with a quadruped bottom and a slender humanoid top. Its entire body seemed to be composed of a white, chitinous armor. As the group settled in front of the arch, the right figure cleared its throat. “I am Muareth, responsible for guiding you to your training area. Your mission is simple: follow this straight road to the central crossroads and then turn to the South Parade Grounds. There are no tricks, this is your only task. You have two hours to accomplish this. Failure will mean being stripped of your qualifications to be a member of the elite squad.”

Muareth surveyed the trainees. Most of them seemed rather confused by the simple requirement, a sentiment that Raymund shared. Muareth smirked. “As I said, it’s an extremely simple task. But I will say this: this is also your one opportunity to turn away. This is your one opportunity to withdraw with no questions asked. The Ghosthound will push you to your breaking point for the next three months. It will not be a pleasant experience. And let me assure you that no matter who you are related to… They will not be able to help you once you step onto his territory. You will be entirely on your own.”

“Peh.” The white-haired humanoid with rams horns spat to the side and looked at the two figures beyond the arch with obvious dissatisfaction. “Your fear-mongering won’t work. Humph, let’s go.”

He boldly took several steps forward and crossed the boundary. Three others followed. When those four had fully arrived on the interior, the horned man twitched like he had hit with a bolt of lightning and froze. His three followers collapsed.

Muareth just chuckled. “Congratulations, you three. Your chance to back down is now forfeit. Welcome to three months of hell.”

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