The Legend of Randidly Ghosthound

Octavius moved from his bedroom to his library while Edraine released the full fury of her image with the two assailants in the other room. The heavy tomes that lined his library shelves watched silently as he stood for a while next to his desk and trembled. He had one hand on the mahogany surface and the other over his heart. It took almost ten minutes for Octavius to control his breathing and bare to peek inwards at his injured image.

The fear was a physical thing, toying casually with the muscles of his chest like his body was a guitar it playfully strummed.

When Octavius finally worked up the nerve to check, something within him gradually eased. It is… not as bad as I feared. Much of the detail was lost, but my image was stalwart enough to not sustain any permanent warping…

To put it in perspective, while Octavius had feared that he had lost years of his hard work due to Cruelty, the truth was likely closer to a month or two of recovery would have him returned to his former capability. But even now, thinking of the pure joy that Cruelty radiated as he was purposefully striking at the core of Octavius made him grit his teeth and press his eyes closed.

Octavius reached up and rubbed his horn. Even if the trembling stopped, time retained its fuzzy, fragile sensation as he tried to ground himself.

He only stopped rubbing his horn when Edraine walked purposefully out of his bedroom. Her mouth was twisted into a frown. “Either they have more spine than I expected, or they truly don’t know who paid them to do this. But I would like a second perspective; contact Randidly. Perhaps his Dreamcatcher of the Long Night will be able to sense something.”

She turned away then and frowned at the ground. But just as Octavius was sending the message to Randidly, Edraine turned back around and looked at him. “Oh, and Octavius? They paid for what I did to you. These two will be as feeble as mice for the rest of their lives.”

*****

Lay’mel Tuuellethe stood underneath the boughs of one of the metallic tree-like statues leading up the low hill to the chapel. He was deeply irritated by his current situation but tried not to let that show on his face. He was not irritated because he wasn’t invited into the chapel for the funeral service; honestly, the place was crawling with figures so powerful that Lay’mel wouldn’t even dare breathe for fear of offending someone he couldn’t. As a non-named member of the Swacc Family, Lay’mel meant nothing to even his connections in the Family. His position was closer to that of a contractor than a member.

He could make deals with the Family, but they would discard him immediately if he crossed the line or if he became embroiled in any difficulties.

Lay’mel flicked a metallic branch in front of him, pausing briefly to listen to the low noise it made. He glanced toward the man laying on the ground next to him, his irritation steadily mounting. How the hell is this funeral lasting so long…? “Although I cannot give you an exact measure of the Ghosthound’s capabilities, believe me that he is an easy foe to underestimate; he is the type of scheming foe that deeply conceals himself.”

“Uh-huh,” figure man replied with obvious boredom. He was a muscular figure with a shaved head, laying on the ground with all of the tension of a homeless person napping on the beach. The man’s tanned arms were covered in inked designs, a truly barbaric custom in Lay’mel’s opinion, but the most arresting aspect of this figure wasn’t the man himself: it was the massive black greatsword on the ground next to him, covered in blue Engravings.

Lay’mel had been careful to stand on the opposite side of the man from the sword. His instincts simply wouldn’t allow him to casually approach.

The man reached into a pouch at his waist and pulled out a small piece of candy in an opaque plastic wrapper. He opened the wrapper and popped the item into his mouth. Almost instantly, mist starting rolling out of his nose and mouth. The man grinned up at Lay’mel, appearing to be an apparition that floated within the localized fog. “Want one? These Frigid Glacier candies are very good. Very refreshing. I really need to buy more.”

“No, thank you,” Lay’mel responded automatically. He stopped flicking the metallic boughs and began to squeeze the metal with his hand. Because he could make deals with the Swacc Family, he had some access to inside information. As long as he could obtain very detailed information about Randidly Ghosthound, or even capture him alive, he would have the chance to officially bear the Swacc name.

His heart pounded. That was the goal he had pursued for so long-

Lay’mel winced and released his grip; he had squeezed so hard that his palm was now divided by an oozing gash of a wound. He flexed his hand and watched as the flesh steadily knit itself back together. Then he began to flick the metal once more.

After the wound was completely healed, Lay’mel cleared his throat and continued to speak. “One of the Ghosthound’s images is related to life. Another appears to be some sort of spiritual figure. And, if you can believe it, it appears that he even has a third image of the same caliber. Ah, obviously each individual image is no match for you, Mr. Dunn. But combined-”

“It’s an interesting method of using images,” Velio Dunn replied through a wide yawn that had his jaw cracking. For a split second, he appeared to be a frost dragon bellowing his breath toward the sky. Then when he relaxed and smiled, a nova of mist spread out from his face due to the candy. “But!”

Velio jabbed his finger at Lay’mel. “You are ruining all of my tension! It’s like a good fuck with a stranger in a dark alley; you don’t want to sign a contract agreeing to all the details beforehand! Half of the fun is living in that raw moment and discovering these details together. So don’t tell me any more about him! I just want to see him, just once, to see if I’ll accept the job. And if he’s weak… peh.”

Instantly, Lay’mel flushed. “But I have already given you the fee-”

“You paid for me to take a look,” Suddenly Velio Dunn was not an affable man laying on the ground. He glared up at Lay’mel and the elf couldn’t even breathe. The runes on the enormous sword began to glow. “So I’m here, taking a look. I’m trying to keep you from fucking wasting your money by ruining everything with your prattle. So accept my advice, alright? Let’s have some patience. Try and enjoy yourself a little more.”

So Lay’mel fell silent, even though he was feeling humiliated and furious. Somehow, the worst part was that he was just as scared of the runic greatsword than the man himself. Still lying on the ground, Velio Dunn popped another candy into his mouth. He amused himself by blowing mist rings up into the air above him.

Truly… if I hadn’t obtained his name from a Swacc Family contact… Lay’mel’s expression was stiff. It would be difficult to believe that he is someone who has lived since the Second Cohort… and is one of the most feared assassins in the Nexus…

They waited like that in something like silence for almost ten minutes; the only noise was Helio chuckling to himself when he managed some acrobatic feat with his mist rings. Lay’mel did his best to relax. Then, blessedly, individuals began to file out of the chapel above them on the hill.

Lay’mel nodded decisively. “Let’s shift positions to attract less attention-”

“Why bother?” Velio rolled onto his back and then flipped himself up to his feet. With a toe, he flicked his two-meter long sword up in the air and seized the hilt with his hand. “Anyone who would recognize me has already sensed me anyway. There is no need to skulk around for just an innocent look.”

Lay’mel blinked. “Uh… aren’t you worried that being seen would tip off Randidly Ghosthound…? As an assassin-”

“Lamel, heheh, your name is a portmanteau of lame camel. Anyways, Lamel, it seems clear to me that you just don’t get it.” Velio patted Lay’mel’s shoulder several times and each touch sent near-painful jolts through his body. Velio Dunn was strong. “Also, don’t call me an assassin ever again. Or I’ll kill you. But I don’t take these jobs because I like killing. In fact, I find killing generally deplorable; I can’t have a climactic rematch with a dead man.

“No, I do this because it’s fun. To fight! To struggle! To have an inevitable showdown!” Velio Dunn shook his head, almost sorrowfully. When he blew the mist out of his mouth this time, it was directly into Lay’mel’s face. “I’m here to look because if it seems like fun, I’ll definitely fight this Ghosthound of yours. And I’ll admit that it seems like I’m a jinx for most people; inexplicably, people who fight me end up dying during the fight. Can you understand how disappointing that is? To be all riled up and lathered and then to have your opponent bisected in half on the first attack? There is no greater sorrow in the world.”

“I…. I see.” Lay’mel’s mouth twitched.

“I cannot handle that disappointment any longer. I am not a young man,” Velio sighed deeply. “Lamel, I get that this Ghosthound is stronger than you; you are pretty weak, to begin with. But that doesn’t mean he isn’t just another schmuck who would inexplicably end up impaled on my sword, understand? I have to protect myself from disappointment. So let’s just-”

“There he is,” Lay’mel interrupted, pointing up through the crowd at a figure who walked out of the chapel.

Velio Dunn tilted his head to the side and squinted up toward the chapel. “The chubby bloke with the two hammers at his waist? I’m sorry Lamel, but that’s a definite no-”

“No, not him, the… the humanoid with short black hair.” Lay’mel was exasperated. “If we don’t mind being seen let’s just walk up there and I can introduce you to him. That way, you can read his image-”

“Haven’t you been listening to me?” Velio Dunn looked at Lay’mel with a scandalized look on his face. “I’m a dangerous man! What if I kill him accidentally while introducing myself?!?”

What do you mean WHAT IF!??! Didn’t I hire you to kill him?!? Inwardly, Lay’mel was fuming. But he had been forewarned that Velio Dunn was a little bit peculiar. So he kept his temper as best he could. “Well… ah! There. Do you see? It’s that man. The one holding that key up to the air on the left-”

“Oh,” Was all Velio Dunn said. But Lay’mel didn’t really notice, because he watched with shock as Randidly Ghosthound opened a portal in the air and stepped through it. And just like that, he was gone.

“He didn’t use the Ways. Interesting.” Velio’s words brought Lay’mel back to the present. As Lay’mel twisted around to urge Velio to accept the commission, he was pinned to the ground as he saw the expression on the other man’s face. There was no humanoid in those sharp features, only a hungry beast. Velio licked his lips. “I accept, Lamel. That body of his… bearing the sin of breaking through the System’s physical limitation… I’ll definitely fight your Randidly Ghosthound. Hehe. I just hope he doesn’t die quickly.”

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