The Legend of Randidly Ghosthound

“None of you are deaf and dumb, no matter how weak you currently are,” Overseer Helen drawled as she slowly surveyed the gathered recruits in front of her. Her hand was on her hip, the fingers tapping rhythmically as she considered. She pursed her lips.“So I’ll say openly what you’ve probably heard in whispers to this point: both Military High Command and the Nexus Labor Council are using the death of a Commandant to broker a deal. That’s why it’s so important to never stop training; if you are too weak at the wrong moment, you die. And after you are dead, you will be nothing but a poker chip to be used and discarded.”

Next to Raymund Ballast, DiOrtho Vant slowly began to frown. The emotions of the surrounding recruits were an uneasy balance between excitement and worry. It was clear that there was a lot at play in the broader Nexus right now, but Raymund was still excited for this opportunity for one reason only: he would have some time to investigate the disappearance of his brother.

Gabriel Swacc has the piece… I’ll find out who you are and what that means…I’ll find you, Techetadore… Raymund clenched his hands.

Meanwhile, Overseer Helen continued to talk. “It is the official position of Head Drill Sergeant Ghosthound that recruits should have no contact with governmental or political organizations outside of their current military hierarchy while on leave. In addition, just fucking avoid military types outside of your chain of command. If you stay in line, Randidly Ghosthound will protect you. Otherwise… heh, you are on your own. Godspeed.”

Unfortunately for Raymund’s grand plans, he hadn’t the faintest idea of where to begin when it came to searching for information in the Nexus. He understood vaguely that there were certain individuals in the Nexus who specialized in the sale of information, but he didn’t know who those people were or how to find them. He was a country boy in the big city.

His first instinct was to ask either Benjamin, DiOrtho, or Charlotte. They all had powerful backers and he would consider them his closest peers. But… Raymund shook his head decisively. If I were to rely so directly on my companions, would I be any different than these other fools who arrived in the training camp to curry favor…?

But despite his feeling of directionlessness, Raymund Ballast was also determined. After enduring the Ghosthound’s hellish training, wandering around for a bit and seeking these information brokers didn’t seem so overwhelming. He was capable enough to accomplish this task, although the 24-hour time limit was something of a concern.

“Ah, one more thing,” Overseer Helen announced after a long pause. “Head Drill Sergeant Ghosthound has decided that we might as well take advantage of this entire day of rest you recruits will have by… adjusting the training schedule leading up to Commandant Lyrim’s funeral. Hehehe. You are not going to enjoy these workouts… but I’m going to enjoy watching you break.”

No one was so brave as to actually grimace or sigh when they heard this completely unexpected but unsurprising news, but Raymund could feel the emotional reverberations around him clearly. For most of the recruits, they had just managed to adjust to the demands on their body. And based on Overseer Helen’s words and expression… this would not be an easy change.

“You have two hours of free time now; do whatever you want. Afterward, we will start with four hours of physical fitness training. Prepare yourselves.” Then Overseer Helen shooed lightly in dismal.

“How much more difficult are they going to make it to just move?” DiOrtho grumbled. But although Vant was the most vocal complainer amongst the recruits, it was also true that he was the only one radiating a cautious excitement at the news. The man was practically glowing about the increase in training difficulty. He met every oncoming challenge with a scowl and malicious glee.

His approach to risk is extremely deficient and unnatural, Raymund sighed. Around them, the various recruits were either furiously discussing the funeral with one another or returning to their dwellings, probably also to arrange for further discussions. The more Raymund watched their considered arrangements, the more exhausted he became.

For these individuals who had constantly been seeking out and making political connections in the sphere of Head Drill Sergeant Ghosthound’s training camp, this announcement was the signal to advance what ‘plans’ they possessed to the ‘final stage’. They were building bridges and cutting deals between the various factions. But honestly, Raymund had very little understanding of what these recruits had of worth to offer each other.

They were just soldiers that hadn’t even fought yet. They could head to the Fifth Cohort and die and they would be forgotten within a week.

Mumbling to himself, DiOrtho wandered away from Raymund, likely heading for the bamboo forest to think. Raymund let him go without comment. Managing the most powerful recruit as part of his squad was difficult enough under normal circumstances. When it wasn’t important, he was perfectly content allowing the ram-demon to go about his own business.

Moving quickly, Raymund Ballast returned to his clumsily made hovel and walked underneath the roof. Although it wasn’t currently raining, the weather patterns changed before your very eyes in this controlled climate that the Ghosthound maintained. Almost as though on cue, as soon as Raymund was under his shelter, the wind in the surroundings began to stir. Even from a distance, the sound of the rustling bamboo forest echoed through the area.

For a second he looked over at the vine-y, purple tomatoes creeping up out of his garden with a bit of concern considering the quickly rising wind. But then he shook himself; that wasn’t important right now. What Raymund needed to do was decide how he should proceed.

This was the opportunity he had been waiting for. He didn’t currently have the clout to command respect, but he was affiliated with the Ghosthound. From the way that Raymund had heard other recruits talking about their Head Drill Sergeant, he was clearly a rising star in the Nexus. But at the same time…

Raymund’s snout twitched. Overseer Helen’s words made it clear that the sort of interaction that Raymund intended to take was a betrayal. Relying on the Ghosthound’s reputation to cut a deal was not an honorable move. His intentions were outside of the context of what she had been talking about, but at the same time…

Yet what am I supposed to do? My world is dying. They cannot wait for me to become a famous Commander. And at the rate that I’m improving… A deep shame welled up in Raymund’s chest as he considered how he had fallen to the high twenties in terms of rankings amongst the recruits. We need Techetadore. He is the one with the six tails. He was the one who was born for this. I’m just…

Raymund luckily didn’t finish that thought. Unluckily, the reason he paused in that line of thinking was that a rather sneering voice from Raymund’s subconscious began whispering to him. You act so self-righteously, refusing to compromise on your image despite the fact you have no idea how to improve it, yet at the slightest chance to chase Techetadore you cast that honor aside…? How much is your integrity truly worth?

Raymund’s lips curled up to bare his fangs. That’s different. You expect me to blindly pursue power with the same dedication that I show toward my family? The culture that raised me?

His emotions churned and sizzled as the two sides of himself continued to clash. So you are saying that it is the ends that justify the means? You sell your honor for your family and it is excusable?

I am not betraying the Ghosthound, Raymund countered. But even as he said it, it was difficult to fully believe it. His emotions slowly stabilized and swirled together. He released a long sigh and looked down to the sharpened nails at the ends of his powerful hands. These hands, despite his relatively slow improvements speed now, had grown so much in only three weeks. He was that much closer to having the capability to find and assist Techetadore. For that, Raymund owed the Head Drill Sergeant a great debt.

And yet… Raymund pressed his eyes shut. He still was tempted. Around him, the wind intensified, rushing through the air like a child dashing back for shelter, lest he find the solemn doors of his home closed to him.

*****

“Shit,” Lady Iellaya said with a sigh as she looked down at the mark on the heavy Aether Diffuser before her. They were stuck in the dimly-lit and low ceiling’d undercity where all the critical infrastructure was located in this Outer Realm, but the damage was obvious enough that the lighting didn’t matter. Someone had burned away a very specific portion of the Engraving. “This… the Engraving is warped by the attack. I don’t think this can be repaired; it will need to be replaced.”

Disciplinary Magistrate Qiolo, a humanoid covered entirely in long grey hair, nodded in agreement as he drew his furry fingers around the edge of the wound. Then he brought his fingertips to his mouth and licked. “Sharp. People with images strong enough to damage this don’t usually hang around in Outer Realms. Especially in my jurisdiction. So either someone here had a breakthrough, or someone was brought in to send a message.”

A spider skittered out from behind the Aether Diffuser, drawing glances from both Lady Iellaya and Disciplinary Magistrate Qiolo. The mundane creature twitched and died from the combined weight of their gazes. Then they turned back to the ruined machinery.

“Shit,” Lady Iellaya said again. Once more, Disciplinary Magistrate Qiolo nodded.

Lady Iellaya had been appointed head of security for the funeral ceremony of Commandant Lyrim simply because she was the lowest ranking individual hanging around Military High Command at the moment. So she had been both preparing the venue for the funeral and scrutinizing the recent teleportation logs for Outer Realm Umt, the larger location where the funeral would be held. Which was when she had noticed an urgent report from a Disciplinary Magistrate from a neighboring Outer Realm and come to investigate.

In terms of Outer Realms, Umt was as posh as they came, possessing superior facilities and a generous Aether allotment. It was the perfect location for a tasteful funeral.

Meanwhile, this Outer Realm, Outer Realm Schizzorix, was near-abandoned. The population was small and most of them were injured cast-offs from earlier wars against the Nether. Their Aether allotment was proportionately smaller. This also meant that discontent was extremely high amongst the residents.

The Aether Diffuser itself was the means by which the Outer Realms received their Aether allotment. It was a hulking mound of metal that looked like a generator but functioned closer to a release valve. Qiolo pointed to the slightly melted material around the base of the Diffuser. “Whoever did this was smart, too. The attack didn’t damage the connection to the Nexus Ways, only the release sensor. So before the interference was discovered, Aether ceaselessly pumped out. The machine could no longer detect it had reached its daily allotment. And someone was here gathering it, which was why it wasn’t discovered earlier.”

“How much Aether do you think they got away with?” Lady Iellaya asked.

Disciplinary Magistrate Qiolo grinned. “The equivalent of its yearly allotment in the span of five days. Which also means that Outer Realm Schizzorix will not be receiving any further Aether for a while. Heh, this place is so fucked.”

“You seem remarkably cheery about the fact you’ve most likely lost your job. And that you failed so spectacularly to prevent this.” Lady Iellaya observed slowly. “You are the Disciplinary head here; you won’t be able to avoid punishment.”

“When I was twenty, I offended someone I shouldn’t have and had my image destroyed,” Qiolo said quietly. The room was dark enough that Lady Iellaya couldn’t quite make out his expression. The hairs on his face were sleek and shimmered as his lips moved. “Still, I didn’t give up. I started from scratch. I managed to obtain a job in the Disciplinary Board and contributed significantly to the prosecution of the Overseer of the Sixth Cohort. You might not have been active at the time, but my investigation eventually revealed how corrupt that Overseer was. I was given a commendation and my own entire Outer Realm… out here. It wasn’t until I got here that I realized how little my efforts mattered.”

When the Disciplinary Magistrate smiled, Lady Iellaya could see his teeth were very sharp. “So I won’t deny that I am… sympathetic to the people who hold the Nexus in contempt. And after living on a pittance here for a hundred years… what else can they do to me? I reported the leak. I did my duty; let them punish me for that and sow more negative karma for themselves. What do I care?”

Lady Iellaya considered the man in front of her for several seconds. Then she said, “Would you like a job?”

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