The Legend of Randidly Ghosthound

Congratulations! You have overcome the tragedy that lurked beyond the horizon, at least for the moment. It has withdrawn, fled once more to the edge of the world, an even deeper depth from which it may accumulate more sinister significance. But let it never be said that surviving and continuing further down the Path hasn’t been rewarded. You have triumphed and therefore will grow.

Congratulations! Willpower and Resistance +300! Congratulations! Your Skill Cursed Fate of the Unborn Duo has evolved into The Twin Lingering Shadows of Misfortune (T). Skill Levels will be maintained. The capabilities of the Skill projections are greatly increased. The bad luck you accumulate by hosting them is slightly increased, but the spirits may much more actively devour that bad luck for you. The spirits may more easily devour other strange forces to grow more powerful.

Randidly released a breath and relaxed. The reward in terms of Stats was massive, but Randidly could also feel how much more freely the Unborn spirits could move. They manifested on his lower back, seeming to celebrate their newfound physicality-

His mouth twisted as he opened his eyes. Why the hell are they still gnawing on my skin?!?

An additional surprise waited for him as Randidly came back to awareness of his undersea location. There was a Level 58 crab sitting on his shoulder, which looked at him with increasing alarm as he moved. Shaking his head, Randidly brushed the crab off him and then launched himself upward; with his power, it felt like bullying to crush the small crab.

He erupted from the water, expecting to be able to dry himself off once he left the ocean, but the storm continued to rage above the surface. His mouth curling into a displeased line arch, Randidly produced the Philosopher’s Key and opened a portal to his skyisland above Kharon. There, he proceeded directly to the bathroom and treated himself with a scalding shower. For several minutes, he simply leaned against the wall and allowed the near-boiling heat to blur the line between body, water, and steam.

Afterward, Randidly dressed in some spare clothes Tatiana stored in the closets for just such an occasion and spent several minutes roasting some vaguely pork-looking meat that had been preserved in his interspatial ring. He made a bonfire in front of his mansion, grinning at the moonlight spirits that tumbled around in front of him. The first bite was juicy and flavorful, making him wish he spent more time cooking.

Feeling warm, full, and thoroughly relax, Randidly produced his Philosopher's Key once more and opened a portal into the depths of the shaft. It was time for his final preparations.

He looked up and down when he appeared in that shadowy place, watching significance getting pulled down and emotions flowing up. The Stillborn Phoenix excitedly demonstrated for the two Unborn spirits how they could devour the emotions, digest them, then regurgitate their own sort of warped emotions back into the river.

Shaking his head, Randidly sensed the Nether content in the air. Based on how dense the Nether is… I should be able to rest here for about a week before the confrontation against Wick. That should both be enough to recover, to refine all the significance I took from Neshamah, and also spend some more time experimenting with Synechdochence.

Just the prospect of this confrontation filled him with anticipation. He pressed that feeling down and focused on his Status screen. Not that I blame the System for having a shitty frame of reference, but I don’t think 110% is anywhere close to my limit. I wonder if improving that will have an effect on the next Authority I will eventually condense?

However, that question turned Randidly’s mood sour. He had no idea how to go about condensing a Second Authority. Obviously, it would be related to the meaning and desires of one of his other images, but from everyone’s bland reaction, it wasn’t a recognized thing in the Nexus. Plus, the person he would have asked, Neshamah, had betrayed them within the Skull of Truth. He could approach the Engraving Guild, but Randidly couldn’t shake the feeling they wouldn’t be much help either. Especially after losing their leader.

Which left the Nether King.

Randidly shook his head decisively. He might consider it if he was desperate, but for now, he had more than enough areas in which he could improve. He didn’t need to gamble on another interaction with that mysterious entity.

Without knowing the typical growth pattern of Nether Beings, I don’t know what about me is unusual, His mood turned even darker. And therefore, I don’t know what about me is so interesting that it might make such a figure curious.

For now, Randidly allowed his mind to drift, simply floating within the misty darkness of the shaft. Yggdrasil steadily recovered. Some deep portion of him seemed to count the moments, beginning to obsess about the approaching confrontation. But his Willpower, especially with the large Stat boost he had received from the most recent bunch of Paths, soon regained its usual robust capability. When he awoke, he moved his attention to his Nether Core.

He used his powerful Nether Core, now with the lingering touch of the First Authority, to process the remainder of the significance he had absorbed. The core spun and spun, smoothing and blending the energies. Despite her betrayal, Randidly ended the experience in the Skull of Truth quite thankful toward Neshamah. The significance she had donated was half again as much significance as Randidly had generated with the whole of the Alpha Cosmos behind him.

His significance became dense, silky Nether and then that substance flowed through Randidly’s body and reinforced his veins. His blood vessels felt glossy and potent, cleansed by that Nether. When his body had reached its peak state, his eyes flashed open and he started creating a churning storm of force that spun in the middle of the shaft.

During this time, Randidly realized how useful his new Exquisite Piety was for handling Nether. There had always been a sort of mysticism and faith associated with Nether Rituals, although the logical part of Randidly’s brain had pressed for a more concrete understanding of the mechanisms he wielded. But one of the effects of this new Stat was to relieve some of Randidly’s anxiety toward ignorance. He now possessed a powerful calculative and observation ability and a deep affinity for the inexact art of working Nether.

His own experience was enough for him. He wove the storm with affection and confidence.

For several days, Randidly lost himself in the wonder of exploring the grey firestorm he had refined through his time on the Mountain and then with his training to help Claudette. The closer he examined the process the more he felt the slight ripples that transcended the barriers of different energy types and influence every aspect. He adjusted and accounted for these, gradually incorporating context in a much more effective way.

It did come as something of a surprise, then, that even after all these improvements, he only managed to push his ideal Synechdochence up to 111%. Part of it was the low stakes training he currently endured, but Randidly also recognized that the meaning of that conflict against Devick allowed him to manifest that Nether flare as the head of a vicious spear.

He surpassed that plateau, but only slightly.

Randidly released a sigh and allowed the firestorm to disperse. Then he glanced down into the Shaft. Clapping his hands together, he bowed to the darkness waiting below. I don’t want to be distracted from this foe. Or perhaps… I’ve already pushed my luck too far; I want to fight against Wick so badly that it’s hard to think of anything else.

But after I handle this, I will finally come to find you, I promise.

Randidly inspected his condition once more. But it grew increasingly hard to remain patient. The sinister brother of excitement stirred through his body, making his palms sweaty and his forehead creased with restrained tension. He punched the air, throwing attacks with such force that he produced echoing sonic booms.

Randidly then tried to distract himself by practicing the emotional footholds that Devick demonstrated, but while his emotions ran high they weren’t cooperating. He could barely manage at the moment, to the point that Randidly stopped after an ineffectual half hour of work. He slapped his cheeks. Fine then. Let’s get this over with.

*****

Commandant Wick sat at his desk, making his internal preparations. He did so meticulously, but it was necessary to loosen the tight lattice of control he maintained almost constantly to engage in this peculiar communion and the risks involved were significant.

At the same time, he felt a thrill of excitement that glimmered even through his indignation at having been physically suppressed by the Ghosthound. When you become a part of me, that body of yours will be mine. And then-

Wick’s small, pink tongue flicked out through his lips.

Even more positively, he could feel the emotional connection between himself and the Ghosthound strengthening every moment. That would allow him to force the issue much more quickly, avoiding the pointless and prolonged struggle that characterized his previous attempts. The more quickly the two were connected, the more energy Wick would have to establish himself as top of the twisted hierarchy that functioned within their new bodies.

There was a soft knock at the door. Lady Iellaya poked her head through, her face unreadable. “Commander Ghosthound is here for the disciplinary hearing, Commandant.”

Commandant Wick tried to keep the strain from his face and nodded slowly. “Take him to the sitting room. I shall be finishing presently.”

Once Lady Iellaya was gone, Wick wondered for a moment whether she understood the struggle that raged inside of him every day, simply by the dint of remaining near him for such a period of time. However, he concluded that she wouldn’t have been so emotionless if she truly understood, considering her prior relationship with Randidly.

After all, who could imagine the torture under which I must constantly labor? Wick reflected. Some of the bubbling, intense emotions that were not his own rose up in him, hatred, envy, fear, madness, breathing caustic flames along his ribcage and inflicting agony. But Wick simply allowed those emotions to expend themselves and sink back to the depths of his person. He released a breath.

All those years ago, I seized power any way I could. I do not regret that. But after struggling for so long… perhaps this, finally, will provide me with a way to escape this hell… A perfect vessel without flaw. A well of potential that hasn’t yet run dry.

Commandant Wick finally brought his formidable Willpower to bear, crushing any remnant emotions that licked at him. His powerful scaffolding of control snapped into place, suppressing any further surges. He stood at his desk and walked around to the door. He walked out of his personal office and then down the hall to the sitting room.

The Ghosthound waited within, looking up slowly when Wick strolled into the room. Wick smirked at the young man. “If I’m being honest, your presence here comes as a pleasant surprise; after your recent insubordination, I had resigned myself to hunting you down like a skulking dog and dragging you back here for your comeuppance. Punishments thus far… just haven’t seemed to stick with you.”

Through the method he had learned to manage his multifarious souls, Wick felt the intense emotional response that the Ghosthound had to his words. And yet the young man’s gaze remained curiously mild and his face blank.

Except for his eyes. Their ethereal emerald color seemed oddly wet and infectious, ready to seep out and color the surrounding air.

The lack of response irked Wick, to the point that he felt a powerful impulse to lash out and smash the Ghosthound’s face. To pay the arrogant young man back for the attacks he had launched in Alymian. As it always was for Wick, the source of the impulse was difficult to pinpoint.

However, Wick suppressed that desire. There would be time enough for that later.

“Follow me,” he said coolly. Then he led Randidly Ghosthound down into the bowels of the Military High Command building, where no one would disturb them.

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