The Legend of Randidly Ghosthound

The Patron of the Sun stood on the summit of one of the low hills to Donnyton’s North, carefully sensing the image reverberations from the city. He tilted Yn’ulk’s head to the side and slowly unveiled a smile toward the waiting city. “Truly, what a strange intersection of images. The Nether in this isolated space isn’t restricted to levels that prevent significance mutation, which has allowed them to form composite images? But sloppy, accidental ones. Why isn’t the Nexus monitoring this? Surely, that tyrant wouldn’t allow this to continue if he knew…”

A cold wind blew across the hilltop and the Patron shivered. Then he scowled up at the infuriatingly grey cloud cover. A part of him wanted to reach up and used his significant presence to burn away these infuriating barriers to his glory, but he managed to resist the impulse. There were several strange aspects to this place and he didn’t wish to reveal his presence too early-

“Eh?” The Patron of the Sun blinked. He hadn’t noticed any shift, but suddenly his location was different. His face twisted into a scowl. If he hadn’t detected anything, It was neither Aether nor Nether that had shifted him, but something else. A Domain.

He stood at the center of a grand hall that was pitted and shattered, as though a great battle had occurred here. Decomposing bodies of twisted humanoid ants lay everywhere, filling the space with a rancid smell. High above was a circular opening, allowing this streams of starlight down around the Patron. In front of him was a massive crater, at the bottom of which a twisted grey hand stuck out of a pile of rubble.

He looked around slowly toward the thick layer of gloom that hemmed in the room and chuckled. “An ambush? How truly peculiar… This space seems exceedingly unique. What sort of beings are you?”

A stone golem grinned over at the Patron from his seat on a broken pillar. A woman shifted between a lovely young girl into a smoking and overheated cyborg and back again as he watched her stroll forward. A dog-sized, rheumy-eyed spider rubbed its forelegs together, knitting a web so quickly between them that it seemed to come alive and move.

A woman with long white hair and a pole-length needle stood directly opposite the Patron of the Sun, watching him serenely. Every single one of these figures burned with a strange authority in this space that, despite the differences between their images and the Patron’s, made him wary. “We had the same question for you, sir. Who gave you permission to so brazenly walk into our Alpha Cosmos?”

*****

Claudette glared balefully over at Izzie and Pan, daring them not to take her seriously. The ground underneath her feet blackened and began to smoke, as her manifestation of Clarent brought with it some of its horrible burdens upon the space. The temperature continued to drop, as Claudette got caught up in the intoxicating feeling of unfolding her image and flaring it toward the sky.

However, none in the watching crowd seemed inclined to run and report her to the authorities. If anything, they seemed excited. Claudette supposed the reverberations of her image would do their dirty work for them. Instead of running, after creating a sizable circle around her, Izzie, and Pan, the spectators seemed all too willing to engage in bets on the outcome of the fight.

A small part of her was incredibly flattered to observe that most people were betting on her to win against both of them.

“I… I will abstain from this showdown,” Pan’s face was pale as he raised his hand in surrender. There was a groan of disappointment from the audience and several people began arguing about the odds of her solo against Izzie. Pan offered Claudette a half-bow and tried to smile at her. “Let it never be said that Pan Cortez takes advantage of a la- Ooof!”

Claudette tried not to beam with satisfaction as he collapsed in front of her. She had ripped across the intervening space and drove a fist into his stomach. Clarent radiated cold desolation which transformed into an icy black gauntlet around her hand, making the blow particularly potent. Pan released another wheezing breath as he stared up at her with a blank expression.

Claudette stuck Clarent into the ground and folded her arms. Her voice came out surprisingly cheery; she supposed she felt quite refreshed with the bit of violence. “And why is that? Because you don’t like fighting against women? Or because you are the type of softboy that always holds back, afraid that your all won’t measure up? Either way, no need to continue. Your self-serving and sleazy chivalry can go fuck itself. Draw your weapons or scram.”

Really, Claudette wasn’t talking to the man crumpled in front of her. She was talking to all the sons of her father’s friends with whom she was forced to walk around the gardens, or view a play, or share a strained dinner with sexual undertones. Some small streak of ruthless sadism she had buried a long time ago to survive through such interactions flared to life, empowering the tendrils of darkness along Clarent’s blade to seep out and taint the soil.

Blessedly, an incensed Izzie threw himself to his feet, beat red after being so thoroughly suppressed by Claudette in front of the crowd. “You stupid bitch. What’s your fucking problem?! This isn’t even about you. But if you want to fight against a man who knows true love-”

He flexed his arms and his body began to swell. Muscles ballooned into thick slabs across his arms and shoulders. His skin turned an unhealthy looking shade of greed and his eyes turned a deep purple. “-I’ll grant you the beating you are beggin’ for.”

Claudette would have kissed him, had he not been so disturbingly bulging and vaguely unkempt. Izzie made for a much more guilt-free stress release than Pan. She pulled her sword out of the ground and leveled it at him, a joyous thrill tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Seriously, you meathead? …next time, if a lady doesn’t answer you, just assume its a no.”

Izzie roared and rumbled forward with all the subtlety of a bull. His massive, greenish fists seemed to swell even more than the rest of his oversized body, making him look more like an action figure than a real person. However, Claudette had to admit that he had put enough Stats into Agility; the man moved with a cruel efficiency that belied his bloated size.

Still, Claudette was not here to compare Stats.

Her original Skills felt awkward as she considered them, within the framework of her new image. So instead, she simply followed the guidance of her blade. In Clarent’s song, she found the names for her new, evolved fighting abilities. As the massive physical specimen charged toward her, she spun Clarent around and shoved it into the ground with both hands. “Domain of Tainted Talons!”

Instantly, a circular area around the insertion site seethed with frost and sharp black protuberances. The crowd scrambled backward another few meters, but it was Izzie that faced it directly. First, the horrifying miasma of Clarent settled across his skin until it sizzled, but then he crashed directly through several of the thorny black growths. But despite the deep gashes on his body, he continued to plow forward. An image of endless regeneration flared around him.

A healing image, huh? Let’s see how long that lasts, Claudette thought with a small smile. This was a blade that had hollowed out an entire world. She pulled Clarent out of the ground, just in time for her instincts to tingle.

“Dead Frost Barrier!” Claudette shouted. No sooner had she said the words than three thick shields of ice condensed in a triangle around her body, deflecting one of the daggers wielded by Pan in a sneak attack.

Her eyes narrowed in rage as she studied him and he at least had the decency to look abashed. “If m’lady wants to battle both of us at once-”

“Doom Blizzard,” Claudette whispered.

The whole sky above Donnyton darkened. Winds so thick with ice and sleet that they were visible to the naked eye hurtled downward, bringing with them the first flakes of snow. A split second after she activated the Skill, the blade Clarent gleefully spread its influence out over the surrounding space, turning the Skill into something much more deadly than its original form.

Her reach pierced up through the clouds, pulling and concentrating all the surrounding clouds into this specific area.

A split second after that, several other images locked onto her position, ones much more potent than either of these two men, although not quite as strong as her own. Still, those images worked together to blunt the edges of the desolation that she unleashed outside of the battle while allowing her to hit the two men with the full force of her attack.

Ice and weird patterns of darkness began to accumulate on both their bodies, while Claudette watched them both from within the icy protection of her Dead Frost Barrier. However, Pan quickly reacted. A blue aura spread out from his daggers and he began methodically slicing at Claudette’s protection.

Clink! Clink! Clink!

Izzie raised his head and bellowed, releasing a pulse of that regeneration that seemed to slow the corruption of his body, even as the winds around them accelerated and the snow intensified. With a single bound, he crossed the rest of the distance between them and slammed his fist against the ice.

To Claudette’s great amusement, Izzie looked dumbfounded when the full force strike from his massive fist earned only the tiniest crack in the ice. She felt the hungry cold condensing down above her and lashed out with it, covering his bushy eyebrows in frost and send him sneezing and reeling. Pan shifted his attacks and started to make deeper cuts in her defenses, but at this rate, the blizzard would smother them before they could reach her.

“Interesting,” a voice cut through the howling of the wind, making Claudette wary. “Let me join in the fun.”

“Me too.”

Suddenly Claudette felt her grip on the weather weaken. She turned to face the first speaker and saw a middle-aged woman who grinned cheekily at her. Lightning seemed to flash in her eyes and when she breathed, all of the surrounding air currents spun a little closer to her. The woman raised her hands and began to release crackling bolts of electricity that blasted apart the growing frost on the ground.

Meanwhile, the male voice had come from a tall, muscular man with red hair who pushed his way through the crowd. He stepped onto the tainted soil without any apparent ill effects, simply reaching up and pulling a heavy saber off of his back. He swung the weapon smoothly, his gaze fixed on Claudette the entire time, not an ounce of hesitation or excess in the motion. “Lucifer Slash.”

For a brief moment, sensing the growing influence of lighting from the woman and the power of the man’s pure slash, Claudette felt something tighten in her chest. Can this group… really defeat me? Capture me and force me-

No. Her response came equally as quickly and her weapon blurred into motion. Clarent ripped through the cold air, a thick band of malicious darkness. At that moment, she opened her mouth and finally released the true chorus of the blade’s song. “Edge of Desolation.”

Her attack, empowered by the primal core of her image, ripped forward, smashed apart the lightning and then the man’s saber slash without slowing, and headed directly for Izzie. Claudette’s eyes widened in horror. If that attack hit him directly-

Her senses barely could keep up with the next few fractions of the second.

The ground in front of Izzie cracked. A disgruntled Randidly Ghosthound, wearing a flour-dusted apron, swiped at Claudette’s attack with his hand which condensed into a thicker, clawed hand. Her released image buckled and burned him, weakened by still forcing him back.

And then he was gone, leaving the remaining force to crunch into Izzie’s chest and slam him into the ground.

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