The Legend of Randidly Ghosthound

Don Beigon looked up sharply and peered out of the window. The candles nearest the windows had been snuffed out, long trails of smoke curling up toward the ceiling.

The location of the dramatic performances was impossible to view from here, even with a highly developed and evolved Perception Stat. The crystalline Aether mountains that rumbled at the core of the Nexus prevented all from peering too closely. Yet Don Beigon would not miss the subtle shifts in the air. The long stifled slipstream of change had finally shaken loose from Elhume’s hold.

He turned slightly, the numerous remaining lit candles in the room casting layers of shadow across his features. He surprised himself with the small tremor of anticipation in his voice. “Are our guests ready?”

“Indeed, sir. They are enjoying refreshment, none the wiser about their predicament.” A shadowy servant bowed.

The Don’s lips twitched. This was an unfamiliar face, one of the new trainees. He did not like that this stranger had been assigned this heavy task. But with the rapid need for preparation, there was little choice but to rely on untested elements.

A risk, but one he could not avoid. Too many other areas required sure hands. Too many ingredients to the grand banquet of the day.

The Don turned forward. He flexed his fingers and gripped the bamboo frame of his wheelchair. A tremor ran through his image, spreading out across the whole web of debts he had ever created. He felt a deep thrill of pleasure as he felt an almost overwhelming amount of feedback coming back to him. “Then we begin.”

*****

When Raymund Ballast deployed his image and liberated his brother, all the ambient power bouncing around the interior of the canyon went crazy. From the depths of Elhume’s stolen body, legitimate or not, came an upsurge of rage that shook the prison holding it in place. The glowing energy form of Fiero staggered backward, no longer able to inhabit the other Vulpine. After a moment of shock, Fiero blazed with light, the details of his form becoming unintelligible. He reached out with vague fingers, but couldn’t reach and take the body back. “Impossible!”

Fiero pulled and pulled, somehow galvanizing all the energy radiation and turning it into an Aether-based acid that ate away at everything. Still laughing, the Ghosthound twirled a long and clawed finger. A storm of kinetic energy whirled into being, forcing all the dangerous energy away, protecting his own. Two storms grappled in the sky, one of misty power, the other of razor-edged wind. Again, they reached a stalemate.

With a howl, the energy form shot after Techetadore’s body and attempted to possess it once more. Randidly moved to intervene.

Alana Donal had her own problems.

“This… this…!” Shal’s good humor evaporated as he watched with wide eyes as the two powerful individuals battled overhead… and Fiero kept losing. “This image that I’ve created… all the time I’ve poured into honing my own Skills…! Observe the truth of this existence: Hell Beast’s Due!”

His hydra with its slender and sharpened teeth manifested above Shal’s head. The details sheered through the space around them, almost too real to exist. She could see the thick ropes of drool dripping out of the various mouths, feel the fetid heat of its breath, smell all the corpses left to rot between its teeth. She felt its sinuous grace and power. All those sharpened elements combined into a vicious spear attack aiming for her heart.

“The Second Revelation: Struggle.” Alana’s body blurred as she followed the lessons demonstrated in the life of the Ghosthound. Despite all the wounds on her body, despite how tired she felt and how much her image had faded, she lashed out again and again in a hundred quick strikes.

This was how to survive. These desperate flailings could carve a path forward.

Each time the two images slammed into one another, it was Shal’s domineering image that grew dull and cracked with the impact. No matter how much blood Alana shed, she refused to slow down.

Azriel shook her head in pity as she watched the confrontation. Flecks of blood and angry swirls of misty Aether harmlessly passed through her insubstantial body. “How far you’ve fallen, Shal. Do you know why you will lose, despite all you have sacrificed? Because you didn’t pour time into honing these Skills. You regretted and wished for them. The power you seek to chastise gifted them to you, at great personal cost.”

Alana released a shuddering breath as she planted her feet and steadied herself. Her battered and drained spear image still possessed a solid core of Nether, all the moments she could have stopped training and chose not to, all the accumulated physical movements that settled in her marrow, made her attacks slightly weightier with the continued repetition. Compared to that, the Three-Headed Wraith Hydra had been built in haste, with paper-mache.

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Shal staggered backward, his eyes bloodshot, some of that previous desperation and broken spirit creeping back into his features. “Frolic of the Calamity-Slayer!”

Alana felt bad, but did not hesitate. “The Fifth Revelation: Want.”

Holy orange light exploded around Alana’s limbs, as though she had been doused in napalm. She cut forward, propelled forward by the ignition of all her desires. She wanted to close the distance. She wanted to feel that domineering confidence, an invulnerable avenger’s swagger. She wanted to be able to stand proud in the sky and simply smother the opponent that had plucked up their home planet and slaughter 90% of the population for failing to prove their worth.

Alana Donal leaked want out of her body every second of her life, beneath her stern demeanor. It pooled in her muscles and weighed down her legs. The burden of that want was why she trained so hard. It was why she followed Randidly Ghosthound. It was why she sizzled with frustration and impatience, even during her great triumphs, even when she had achieved victory in the last tournament on Expira.

Only due to her iron will could she stay the course. But right now, what she needed was not self-control, but the depths of her craving. Of the urges that had forged her Nether like steel.

Her spear spoke the gospel and the Wraith Hydra shattered like glass.

At the last second, she nudged her spear to the side. Instead of ripping a hole through Shal’s neck and likely slaying him, she claimed his main spear arm. Vengeance for a painful wish sent toward Randidly.

Events seemed to slow around Alana, as Shal trembled and looked down, unable to understand his own loss. The light in the sky died as Randidly banished the energy projection of Fiero. The remnants of the Swacc Family threw down their Armaments and surrendered.

A small amount of peace settled across the gathering. Even members of the Vulpis couldn’t quite believe they had won.

The sight of Raymund Ballast cradling the body of his brother brought her back to the present, so Alana began barking out orders, separating out groups to explore the area and notice the exits to the caverns, others to guard the prisoners, and then proceeded to join the impromptu group that formed up the steaming Randidly as he floated back to the ground.

“We fucked ‘em!” DiOrtho Vant waved his hatchets back and forth as he talked to the Ghosthound. “Lured them right into the trap! And bam! Right when they were most distracted, you cracked them across the head. Heh, heh, although me being able to hold them at bay for so long, despite superior numbers-”

“Don’t gloat,” Vizzert Clamman sniffed. A deep wound across his muzzle oozed blood. “All you really had to do is stand at the back and shout.”

“My leadership-” Vant wheeled around and jabbed his hatchet toward the wolf.

Randidly ignored them and looked over and Raymund. “Is he…?”

“Conscious for a single moment. He… smiled. And it made all these efforts and more worth it,” The area around the Vulpine’s eyes were wet with tears.

“Still, Eloise sends word that the problems with the Grand Fates are accelerating.” One of the Upper Sonara Society representatives piped up while rubbing her hands together. “Should the pressure continue increasing at this rate, many of our weaker members will no longer be able to assist with the Grand Ritual. Should that be delayed-”

“We just need a moment to center ourselves, then we move,” Randidly Ghosthound positively crackled, the remnant specter of the monster he had been for those brief moments hanging around his limbs. His spine straightened almost unwillingly, as though just now remembering he was no longer burdened by the heavy weight of Acri’s blunt form. His eyes regained some of their green luster. “Vant, report on the injuries-”

Randidly paused in his words, suddenly paling. He leaned forward and blurted out thick globules of vomit and blood, spattering the liquid across the crystal ground. The ruby liquid glittered even more brightly than the crystal. Neveah appeared at his side instantly, holding his shoulders. “Randidly-”

“Heh, sorry about that people.” Randidly straightened, his color instantly restored. He rolled his shoulders, his normal images settling more evenly across his body. He burned with his will, forcing back the ambient Aether mist back further and further. “Had to do a little bit of drastic growth during the fights. That was just an aftershock. I should be good now. So Vant, about the wounded-”

A collective sigh of relief went out of the group. Although they had felt Randidly Ghosthound ascending and grappling so directly with the projection of Elhume, the sudden show of weakness made them worry that such a confrontation had come with a steep cost. The focused and confident expression now on Randidly’s face, the way his image blazed in the middle of the cavern and protected them all, made it possible to believe this victory could be replicated.

They really were going to do this.

But although Alana felt stirrings of those same emotions, she also didn’t miss the way Neveah’s expression didn’t change as the Ghosthound’s Soulbound companion eased back from the others and watched Randidly with fear swirling in her eyes.

All too soon, all the reports have been made. A few individuals were left to guard the defeated members of the Swacc Family. Right before they departed, Randidly glanced over at Shal with a pained expression. He clearly wanted to speak to his former master, no matter the strange transformation that came over him, at first invigorating him but leaving him hollow with a quick but weightless image.

Alana stepped forward a shook her head slightly. “There is nothing you can say to him right now.”

“I know that. I really do. But aren’t times like these the hardest to remain silent? I just hate the feeling of powerlessness,” Randidly sighed, for a brief moment looking human. And when he shifted like that, Alana could see Neveah’s worry— the raw wound on Randidly’s heart oozed and bled, a sad puppy abandoned by his master.

Then the hero, or monster, returned. Randidly Ghosthound became more Nether King Hungry Eye than human. “Alright rebels. Our charge has not yet breached the keep. The long day drags on. We move.”

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