The Legend of Randidly Ghosthound

As Devick rose in the air, gleeful at her ability to foil the plans of the Iron Giant’s team, she relished in the slew of notifications she saw.

Congratulations! Your Skill Methodical Recalibration (Ru) has grown to Level 301!

Congratulations! Your Skill Competitive Spirit (Un) has grown to Level 129!

Recalculating… Skill Competitive Spirit (Un) is evolving!

Warning, if you possess insufficient energy, Skill evolution will result in death.

Congratulations! Your Skill Competitive Spirit (Un) has evolved into Maverick’s Psychosis (A)! Skill Level will be maintained!

Congratulations! Your Skill Maverick’s Psychosis (A) has grown to Level 130!

Congratulations! Your Skill Maverick’s Psychosis (A) has grown to Level 131!

Devick twirled in the air, luxuriating within the cheers of the audience. She didn’t even need to read the details of her new Skill; her intuition proudly announced this was a powerful Skill. With it, they would pull off the shocking comeback she had been working toward this entire match. Her entire body thrummed with pleasure, the inevitable truth of the next five minutes filling her with joy.

Hell, perhaps her dramatic actions would even capture the Nether King’s heart. She likely cut a very dashing figure at the moment.

Strangely, Devick felt oddly weak and hollow as she reached the apex of her jump. She ignored the sensation; she believed firmly in good vibes only. She refused to allow some passing stomach twinge to bother her.

Congratulations! Your Skill Maverick’s Psychosis (A) has grown to Level 132!

…

Congratulations! Your Skill Maverick’s Psychosis (A) has grown to Level 160!

So it was with abundant mirth that she opened her eyes to look at how shocked and defeated the opposition would be below her. Yet as she looked down at them, they seemed nothing of the sort. With irritation, Devick realized they all seemed determined to continue standing against her. Worst of all, some random nobody from the other team now burned with flames due to Larson’s interference.

“I will flay you all,” Devick announced to the group. As soon as she gathered up all of her Willpower to release the sort of domineering blow to lay all of these pretenders low, she felt another horrid cramp in her stomach. The muscles and tendons of her hand flexed. Yet the cramp deepened into something more than physical. She felt a deficiency in her body that kept her frozen midair.

After that, events began to accelerate.

The flaming individual began blasting out gouts of orange fire in every direction. The other members of team Iron Giant were forced a few steps back, but they tossed their Skills up in the air to intercept Devick. All of her focus sharpened to calculating the passages of those attacks as she spun down and landed on the ground. Yet no sooner had her feet touched the ground than a whole new slew of abilities chopped at her sides. Devick danced backward and then was blown off her feet by a blast of fire. When she attempted to stand, she cracked the elbow of the opponent waiting above her and then had to hop into an ungainly somersault forward to avoid a crusher aimed at her legs.

Yet when she straightened, she stood only a few meters away from the Iron Giant player burning with Laron Cerulean’s interference. As a destructive blast of flame bulged and erupted in front of her, Devick’s Skills stalled out. Her breath caught in her throat.

She ended up in a situation that her mind couldn’t find a way out of. Already, her eyes narrowed. She would need to-

A body struck her from the side. For the first split second, the world stuttered around her, too many surprises tugging for her attention. She looked down and recognized Toll, using his body to-

The fireblast hit them and sent the duo flying. Sensation melted and blurred together until the solid slap of the ground against her face woke Devick up. She sprung to her feet immediately, even as her back and left arm screamed in protest. In fact, her left arm hung limply at her side without responding; something very important was torn there.

The air was thick with smoke and Devick could use that to close the distance between two Iron Giant player whose senses were worse than hers. Her hand snaked out and ripped into one’s side and then she slashed across the other’s eyes. Even as they fell to the ground she moved on to the next.

Devick fought, dodged, repositioned, adjusted, fought again, caught the oblong ball, avoided a crusher, avoided a blast of fire, caught another oblong ball, used a crusher to incapacitate an opponent from the other side. Her body trembled with every movement, yet she couldn’t stop. She wouldn’t. Not until they had won. She coughed her way through the smoky air and kept fighting.

When the whistle for the end of the Hobfootie match came, she jerked in surprise. Her back winced and Devick found herself on her knees. The referee announced the final score: 81 to 71, the Miracles had pulled ahead. A wide smile split Devick’s face. She rolled around in the dirt for a bit, attempting but unable to get to her feet. Her injuries were apparently more serious than she had believed. The entire right side of her face stung.

Devick got up and hobble back over to the Miracle’s bench. However, that location was a bucket full of melting ice. She plunged into it and felt every ounce of energy seeping out of her. The expressions of the entire team, even Jawem, were heavy. She looked around slowly. “What… what’s wrong?”

On of the nearby players began to quietly cry. Jawem grimaced and gestured sideways. “The Nether King did the best he could, but… Toll took that Skill directly. Most of the skin and muscle on his body was burnt away by the initial blast.”

“Did he-” Devick choked off the last word, unwilling to say the word die.

Jawem shook his head. “No, but… well. Something happens to you when you lay so close to death for that long.”

Devick stumbled past Jawem, heading toward the healer’s tent next to the arena. Nearby, the Arakis Beast dug its large head into a massive crate of Ara Fruit. By this point, Devick’s whole body began to burn, with the right side of her face becoming agonizing. Within the tent, the Nether King towered over the bandaged form of Toll. From the harsh expression on Nether King Hungry Eye’s face, Devick knew the prognosis was not good.

Yet she paused at the entrance, sensing the presence of another. Although Devick could not see the other woman, she could hear the voice of Larson Cerulean coming from the other end of the tent. “I must protest, Nether King. This whole match should be invalidated. Your power entered into the forbidden area, while play was still in session.”

The Nether King’s eyes didn’t appear green at all, in the dimly light tent. “If I had not interfered, he would have died. I also swear my power did not affect any aspect but him. The outcome of the match was not affected.”

“Even so,” Larson said with her sickly sweet voice. Devick felt her jaw clench. “There are rules in place.”

A hollow smile flickered across the Nether King’s face. “Do you think lying means anything here? If we compare our two actions, I believe all will agree my interference had much less influence on the match than yours did, girl.”

“I think you will find it impossible to prove your baseless accusations, Nether dog,” Larson responded, still with the high-pitched and saccharine voice. “And from now on, when you address me-”

Her words cut off abruptly. There was an audible thump as a body collapsed to the ground. Devick swayed, a vicious pressure squeezing the air around her as the Nether King glared toward Larson. Time ticked past, but the pressure remained. Devick felt blood rushing to her head. Soon, she would burst. Popped out of existence without being able to struggle.

The muscles along her jaw clenched. She hated it. Hated her weakness.

Another voice cut across, easing back the pressure. “Nether King. How kind of you to volunteer to discipline my unruly daughter… but I think you will find such an action entirely unnecessary.”

Nether King Hungry Eye grunted, but Devick recognized that his expression shifted to something more guarded. The speaker, likely Lord Cerulean himself, took another step into the tent, but still remained out of sight for Devick.

Larson spoke back up. “Father this-”

“Child,” Lord Cerulean clicked his tongue. “I meant what I said, but not in the way you want it to be. Nether King Hungry Eye need not punish you… because I will gladly do so. Your games here had no prize but your own vanity, while endangering the people’s trust in the ruling class with your every stumble. Did you think no one would notice how Miracle’s opponents repeatedly had an individual who suddenly manifested Skill with flames?”

“I-” Larson hesitated, finally losing her self-assurance. “No one associates fire with me.”

“A petty defense,” Lord Cerulean said mildly. “Go. Now.”

Devick heard soft departing footsteps. For a few seconds, the two remained silent. Then Lord Cerulean spoke. “Do not pursue it further than this. Both of you, no matter your motivations, interfered in the Hobfootie match. Leaving it here can be considered balance.”

“Balance,” Nether King Hungry Eye scoffed.

“What right do those without power have to complain about balance?” Lord Cerulean chuckled. “But honestly, this is utterly meaningless. I came here with another question. What connection do you have with the one name Devick? She is also one who walks the Narrow Path. And should she come into your own… she will devour you, Hungry Eye. Nothing would give her more pleasure.”

Nether King Hungry Eye lifted his chin. “Lord Cerulean, perhaps you are not such a capable ruler as you think if you are in such constant fear of those beneath you rising up and devouring you.”

“Tch, don’t be obtuse. You saw her in the match; she had grown so intoxicated on the cheers of the crowd and her own hubris that she put herself into a position where her teammate needed to sacrifice himself.”

Devick couldn’t breathe. Her whole body burned. Did she… really do that? It was so hard to remember. But maybe that was the point. She hadn’t been focused on winning the Hobfootie match, not really. She had been spinning up in the air, drunk on the cheers. When she came down, she had been so damn sure of herself. So sure she could handle anything.

And she had been wrong.

For several seconds, there was silence in the tent. Nether King Hungry Eye turned back to the bed where Toll was resting. “You should leave, Lord Cerulean. I have a patient to see to.”

“Heh. Would you have acted so blithe about it if our selfish little mouse wasn’t observing from the side? You do her a disservice; knowing the depths of her own derangement would not harm her.” Lord Cerulean cackled as he departed.

Devick took one step back. Her hands shook. Then she turned and limped away, every movement an agony, looking for a private location to cry.

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