The Legend of Randidly Ghosthound

With his spear raised, Kanan rushed towards the male spear attendant, with his eyes bloodshot and the veins in his arm throbbing as he gripped his spear with all of his strength. Although there was some space in the stands to fight, there wasn’t much, so he quickly arrived in front of the male spear attendant, chopping down with his spear.

The male spear attendant’s spear was bobbing up and down, the drink preventing him from exercising his full control, but at the last moment, when the antagonistic spear was crashing down towards him, he side stepped. As soon as his balance was perfectly set, which took an extra half second due to the drink in his hand, he thrust forward with his own spear.

If he had been sober, it would have likely taken Kanan in the chest, and ended the whole farce. But it seemed that the step had messed with his sense of momentum because all the spear thrust did was glance off of Kanan’s arm, creating a rather messy gash.

Kanan roared again, raising his spear and lashing out. The male spear attendant blinked, and slowly settled on blocking.

Helen rolled her eyes. Kanan was not a very good spear user, but his strength… Suddenly she felt intense regret by even lying about an association with this man… as if her honor couldn’t get any more trashed...

The strike hit the male spear attendant squarely, smashing his backwards and into the thin, half wall that separated their location in the stands from the row below theirs, and he tumbled over that face first, slamming into a group of women’s backs, who squawked wildly at the surprising turn of events.

He immediately hopped back up, then climbed back up to their level. Glaring at Kanan in disgust, he didn’t notice his earlier vomit, and slipped on it as he clambered back down, falling to the ground, finally dropping his drink that he had held for the entirety of the previous interactions.

Kanan turned to Helen, eyes round with disbelief.

Helen wished she was anywhere else at that moment. “Please just kill him. Truly, there is no other way for me to ever be fucking clean again…”

This confused Kanan immensely, as he struggled to use his tiny brain to reconcile this statement with her earlier ones. It was an impossible task for a man who likely didn’t have above 20 Intelligence, even with his level being 30. Which was kinda sad in a way, but Helen supposed there was a naive strength in refusing to address your weaknesses, and only becoming better at the things that you are good at.

Especially when your opponents try and face your strikes directly…

What the statement did end up doing was act as a distraction, so the male spear attendant could struggle to his feet and sway groggily for several seconds. After a while of this, he snapped back into focus, perhaps remembering that they were fighting, and he pointed his spear at Kanan.

This was all the provocation that Kanan needed, and he again rushed forward, spear raised. But this time Kanan yelled out his signature move. “Crushing Blow!”

In terms of finishers, it was a rather basic skill, that everyone who earned the Class Strong Spear User would earn. It was the first skill of the class. But although Kanan didn’t truly have a very high Spear Mastery skill, he had worked on Crushing Blow every day for the past 15 years of his life. This was his polished gem. Which, in this skill only, brought him to the level of the Regional Tournament.

At least in terms of striking power. If the opponent sidestepped, it was all for naught, and Kanan could do nothing about it. But a surprising amount of spear users were foolish enough to engage in a direct confrontation with that attack. The male spear attendant was no exception.

But what was slightly exceptional about the male spear attendant was that as he waited for the oncoming blow, the air around him began to tremble and stir. Helen narrowed her eyes. After watching the tournament thus far, there was no mistaking that phenomena in the air. This mother fucking-

“Iron Bulwark.” The male spear attendant said, his eyes glazed, and expression dopey.

BOOOOM!

Kanan stumbled backwards, howling, his left arm broken from the recoil from the collision. He truly hadn’t spent his stats even on Endurance to be able to withstand his own strength.

“What?!!” Helen’s mother gasped, standing at the scene. Because for a second, there was a flicker of an image, visible in the air. A hint, nothing enough to recognize it, but… that was the very cusp of Artisan.

“This lucky fuck…” Helen muttered.

Helen’s mother’s face drained of blood as she looked at Kanan, who was ugly crying on the ground.

“You…. you….. You….. I’lll kill you! I’ll get my father to murder everyone of you. And YOU!” Kanan rounded on Helen. “We will burn your family’s leather works to the ground. Every little boy will have his cock cut off and every girl will be raped! We will crush-”

But Kanan stuttered to a stop, staring at Helen with wide eyes. She had drawn her spear, and was walking slowly towards Kanan, eyes serious.

“Helen, wait. As long as we apologize-” Her mother urged her, but Helen just shook her head.

“We can just as easily apologize for culling this stupid pig.”

Finally realizing the situation he was in, Kanan rubbed tears from his eyes and stood shakily, holding his spear in his good arm. “Heh, even if I’m like this, do you think a weak girl like you can even threaten me? When my father’s men hear about this… well, hehehe…”

But then his eyes widened, because Helen attacked, and he felt like he was plunged into an ice cold river, full of currents and eddies that left him immobilized. And her spear was a jagged rock, weaving through the water, that was impossible to dodge, no matter how hard he struggled. And as it approached his neck-

At the last second, Helen felt a hint of danger, and hopped backwards, eyeing the surroundings warily. A heavy set pig man walked over, smiling easily. Two guards were at his back, both with Battle Intents raging that would put them near the Artisan level.

“Hehehe, I appreciate you teaching my son a lesson… but let’s go to far, eh girlie? He’s going to be the next head of my precious Style, there is no way he will die to a nobody like you.”

“Derk, let’s just-” Helen’s mother began, but Derk just waved her silent and walked over towards Kanan. Helen’s gaze grew stormy. This was a man who had encouraged his son to harass and heckle, molest and torture, for years. A disgusting, small little dictator.

Helen exchanged a glance with the male spear attendant, her gaze asking if they were on the same page. He just smiled dopily.

Jesus, she had to do fucking everything herself…

Her spear flicked out, ripping Kanan’s throat out. Derk froze. Her mother looked like she was going to faint as Kanan’s blood splashed on the ground. Helen could only yawn, and kicked Kanan’s ass, causing him to collapse forward, splattering more blood on the ground.

“Good riddance.” She said, feeling quite pleased with herself. In her heart, she feared Derk and his power. But she also feared what would happen to her family, her younger cousins like Ikaas if this walking sexual assault was allowed to live. So she had ended him, and damn the consequences.

“You…. you foolish bitch.” Helen’s mother muttered, sitting down. But to her surprise, Helen saw that her mother was smiling slightly, staring dazedly at the dead body. Derk was speechless, and simply looked at the body for a long time, his frown slowly growing.

Then he turned to her. “I hope you are prepared to pay the price for that. With every inch of your body. Heh, I encouraged my hopeless ass of a son to pursue you because even when you were young, your body… mmm…. But I suppose you should always be positive. Now, you will be all mine.”

By the end of his little monologue, Derk’s mouth was stretched into a sweaty and twisted smile, looking at her with beady eyes. Then he moved, drawing his spear and stepping forward towards her. But Helen hopped backwards. Unlike his son, the father’s talent was real, even his speed.

His attacks came quickly, short little cuts that were impossible to predict and avoid. The two guards moved forward, one keeping Helen’s family at bay, the other engaging the male spear attendant.

Helen hissed as she blocked one of Derk’s attacks and was sent stumbling; like father like son, the muscle bound idiots. But the father’s Spear Mastery was a high level as well. And his level was likely closer to 40, giving him a huge stat advantage….

Helen could only strike back with her Skill Set, and she did so, effectively. She twisted and dodged, flowing around the strikes as best she could, lashing out at him. As they fought, she could feel her skill growing as she found new ways for her flowing image to fight against his raw power.

But in terms of Stamina… she couldn’t hold a candle to a man who was 20 levels above her. Again and again his spear smashed into her block, knocking her backwards. She felt a chill in her heart. If he just… knocked her out and kidnapped her here… If she didn’t receive help….

Roaring, Helen began striking back with a renewed vigor, burning through her Stamina without a care. This. This was exactly why she resented Randidly, even though she was attracted to him. Why, why was she suddenly so reliant on someone else? When had she grown so weak…?

She was stronger than she had ever been in the past. So why would she seek his help? He wouldn’t be around forever. In her heart, Helen knew she would one day move on to another place. And before that happened… she needed to sharpen her fangs to an unimaginable degree.

Wild strikes suddenly became precision slashes as her frantic energy was channeled into refining her strikes, and she drew a long line of blood across Derk’s cheek. Her burst of strength had shocked him, but now this strike angered him, and he swept his spear across, smashing against her guard, and physically throwing her whole body backwards.

But as she was going to be sent sprawling backwards, a hand pressed against her back, dispersing most of the force. And that hand was strange, because as it held her, helping her establish her balance, it felt at first like a question, which she assented to, and then like it was pumping warm fire and ice water into her body, giving her strength.

She turned and looked into the Ghosthound’s emerald eyes. He simply nodded. She tightened her grip on her spear and turned back to Derk.

She hated his support, but she would say nothing about it, because she needed it. It just like this fucking bastard to turn up at the most opportune time. But with this warm rush of energy, she swore that she wouldn’t let him do anything else.

There was no need for the Ghosthound to dirty his hands to take out this trash.

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