The Legend of Randidly Ghosthound

Chapter 1640

Chapter 1640

The Frost Matriarch tilted her head to the side as she looked down at the young man who had saved Claudette from the Engraving Guild trap. The same young man who was now claiming to be able to destroy a Nether Spire with only the guaranteed assistance of a follower of Seeker Thunder Wing. Perhaps he believed Seeker Thunder Wing would volunteer to join his cause?

Because as the Frost Matriarch looked at the calm face of Randidly Ghosthound, one thing was clear: he truly believed he could do it.

From the brief report given by Claudette, the man could wield both Aether and Nether without being tied into the Engraving Guild’s Nether Lattice, which was certainly a reasonable basis for confidence in most situations. Claudette had also described the image that this Randidly Ghosthound had used to fight against the Nether forces and it seemed to be a well-executed image based on growth and stability.

Yet for a brief moment when the Frost Matriarch had first noticed Claudette’s approach, she encountered an entirely different image that could only be attributed to the Ghosthound. The image hadn’t been especially powerful, but at the same time…

Another variable made the accomplishments of this young man impressive indeed.

In a non-frantic environment, away from the most violent and cruel establishment of the orthodox Nexus factions, that would have been enough. Here, with Nether Heralds and the Engraving Guild...

The Frost Matriarch tried to school her features into a kindly expression, but she understood that her body wasn’t truly designed for it. Her features had all the subtlety of black paint. Even her attempts at a smile ended up being gaping and therefore vaguely threatening. So to make sure that he knew she was viewing his choice to volunteer positively, the powerful Frost Matriarch tried to keep her voice at a soothing timbre. The vibrations of her vocal cords were tightly controlled. “Indeed? Yet for an important mission like this one, without support-”

“I’ll assist him.” Seeker Thunder Wing stepped forward with a smile on his wily face. It seemed the Ghosthound’s gut was right, on this one. But what the Frost Matriarch hadn’t expected was the second voice.

“Me as well,” Seeker Ozaer nodded absently, with only as much determination in her voice as though she had been swayed by a sudden impulse to follow along and decided to just go along on an arbitrary whim. The Frost Matriarch looked at the three of them in turn, considering whether she should reject the newly reinforced proposal.

Seekers Ozaer and Thunder Wing were both canny individuals, which meant that this young man was even more impressive than he seemed. Seeker Thunder Wing’s movements made sense; he always had a knack for involving himself with up and coming characters from the younger generation. But Seeker Ozaer was more puzzling; as far as the Frost Matarich knew, her only motivation appeared to be seeking the Pinnacle.

How would this step take her closer to the Pinnacle? Certainly, being in the first group would expose her to more danger...

Around the Frost Matriarch, the other Pinnacle Seekers began to stir, sharing long glances with each other. The Three-tailed Mouse licked one of his paws with half-lidded eyes. In all likelihood, the other powerful Pinnacle Seekers shared the Frost Matriarch’s gut reaction to this inscrutable young man volunteering and then receiving support. It was possible to refuse him outright, normally, but the support of the two powerful Pinnacle Seekers meant that someone more powerful than either of them would need to lead the second team.

So the Frost Matriarch decided to allow it to happen. Without information, her scrutiny was useless. And in this case, there didn’t seem to be any hidden machinations. Or if there was some sort of plot present, she could invalidate it with raw power.

She nodded calmly to the young man. “At any point, you can relinquish your command ad we will move to assist you, Mr. Ghosthound. Good luck.”

The Ghosthound didn’t seem surprised that he had been allowed to continue, but from the way he offered a smile to Seeker Thunder Wing and didn’t look at Seeker Ozaer at all, the other Pinnacle Seeker’s presence puzzled him in the same way that it puzzled the Frost Matriarch. She didn’t know whether she should be happy or sad that they were both plagued by doubts regarding her motives.

The Ghosthound, his subordinates, the two Seekers, and their subordinates all moved down the slope of the crater toward the un-assaulted Nether Spire. The Nether forces immediately perked up at their approach, but the Frost Matriarch’s eyes went to the Engraving Guild, who were observing the attempt carefully. Most of their forces were applying pressure to their own Nether Spire, but there were enough forces in reserve to cause trouble.

The other Pinnacle Seekers around her settled in to watch, so the Frost Matriarch took the chance to look at Claudette. “What do you think of his chances?”

“Hmmm…” Claudette’s brow furrowed in a purposeful display of reflection. The Frost Matriarch shook her head slightly but didn’t call her student out on the small performance. Then Claudette’s face brightened as though she had discovered something in her consideration. “You know what? I think I’ll go with him as well. I can tell that something fun will happen.”

Without another word, Claudette began hurrying forward to join the small group. The Frost Matriarch caught the eye of Narthalla and gave her a sharp look: should Claudette encounter true danger, she was allowed to reveal her own image and protect her. Narthalla’s presence was the only reason that Senior Beigon allowed his daughter out of his sight. There was no harm in relying on that hidden dagger now.

Narthalla didn’t acknowledge the look; she was too professional for that. The undercover guard didn’t miss a beat as she followed her mistress down the slope. At this point, the Ghosthound had stopped his group and was talking to the two Seekers. The Frost Matriarch’s eyes slid from their little pow-wow to the Nether Heralds that watched their approach obsessively.

Akin to the hawkish Narthalla, the Nether Heralds took their duties very seriously. They would give their life to protect their charge. As far as the Frost Matriarch could tell, the Nether Spires served two purposes. One was to stabilize a mysterious array that covered the central area. She assumed this arrangement concerned the last defenses of the Nether King, but part of the reason she didn’t move forward herself was that she wasn’t entirely sure that was the case. She sensed the dense and deft strokes of Nether that could only be the Nether King’s hand, but if this was a trap, she didn’t want to be the one to walk into it.

The second function of the Nether Spire was to generate a current of significance. With one of the spires already toppled, that current actually became more chaotic than what it had probably been like when all four functioned. At one end of the battlefield, significance stewed and bubbled. A small portion of that significance was eventually dragged away by the triangle of the functioning spires, but a large percentage of that accumulated significance was becoming stagnant in the far corner of the battlefield.

An elegant design, as always. The Frost Matriarch released a frosty breath in appreciation. The more Nether Spires are destroyed, the more the significance will pool. Too much pooled significance will greatly weaken images in the area. By the time the Nether King’s next card is revealed, he will have a significant advantage over Aether fighters.

Now… the only question I have… is where is Commandant Wick…? He is not the type to leave anything to chance…

Nearby, the Dusk Jackal sighed in appreciation. “Ah. It begins. So this is where the young man’s confidence originated…”

The Winged Serpent’s tongue flicked out appreciatively. “Hum. Strong strokes with stable foundations. This young man has a lot of talent. But surely he realizes that Engraving Guild will assume he his mocking them purposefully with this method…? Hissssss…. Now I regret not volunteering my own services, kekeke.”

“Imagine, being bold enough to force the Engraving Guild to launch an assault!” Dusk Jackal slapped his knee. His eyes were bright and flickering as he watched below.

With a slow blink, the Frost Matriarch turned from the Nether Spires to their small expedition, still remaining still on th slope. And she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

Rather than assaulting the Nether Spire directly, the group led by the Ghosthound had settled about halfway down the slope and set up defensive formations. Once everyone was in position, the Ghosthound rolled his shoulders and visibly released a breath. When he raised his head, the Nether in the surrounding area began to spin toward him. Within a few seconds, the amount of significance he seized began to impact the flows around the other Nether Spires. Even the pooling significance wasn’t immune to his grip, rapidly losing much of its dangerous accumulation.

As the Winged Serpent had teased, the Engraving Guild elites immediately fixated upon the Ghosthound. They had warily watched a rival previously; now their heavy gazes seemed to spit indignation and murder. Not that they had a monopoly on Nether Cores in the Nexus, but it was a close thing. And certainly, no one was so bold as to flaunt an independently created Nether Core in front of them.

Technically, a Nether Core not in the Nether Lattice was a delicate subject in the Nexus. Without a powerful political backing, possessing one was a death sentence.

Even more impressive was how quickly a massive Nether Ritual emerged around this small group. The ground was covered in complicated sigils that shifted as soon as you noticed them. The young man stood in front of them all and adjusted his calculations on the fly. The Engraving Guild members began to buzz with tension as the ritual grew more powerful.

However, very soon the Nether around the Ghosthound grew unstable. The three remaining Nether Spires seemed to sense the grand working and naturally adjusted their currents of significance to weaken the new arrival. What the Spires seemed to be doing was sucking away the ambient energy on the battlefield, especially in this area. The beautiful patterns that covered most of the ground flickered as the pressure changed. Nether would continue to function without a portion of its significance, but it would be like an image without shape. Violent, but impotent.

No wonder the Engraving Guild isn’t attempting something similar… The Frost Matarich reflected.

Yet just as the Frost Matriarch thought that the grand Nether working was going to collapse, an image exploded from the Ghosthound’s body. It only took a second for a massive tree to form above him. The thick bark was covered in those same mystical patterns and the emerald canopy was lush and vibrant. A near-infinite amount of leaves rustled as the flows of significance shook the branches. Thick and rugged roots sunk into the ground. A palpable aura of life surrounded the tree, adding to its potency.

However, to the Frost Matriarch’s eyes, such an image wasn’t worth commenting on. It seemed to possess little offensive power and the details of the image were inconsistent and fuzzy in some places. The Ghosthound was growing the emotional presence, but it was still in a weak state. In a direct confrontation, she could crush this projection without difficulty. And she didn’t doubt that both the Nether Heralds and the Engraving Guild could do the same. Based on his youth, making it this far was impressive, but still-

“The roots,” The Winged Serpent hissed quietly. “Such delicate Control…”

The Frost Matriarch blinked. Truly, she had been scrutinizing the image itself so closely she hadn’t really been noticing how the Ghosthound had been wielding it. Rather than clashing against the pull of the Nether Spires directly, the Ghosthound ignored them. Instead, he guided the roots of this massive tree to grow precisely along the lines of his Nether Ritual. If he couldn’t draw the lines with significance, he could draw them by hand and then supply the significance later. The speed and precision of the expansion left even the Frost Matriarch floored.

All it took for the Ghosthound to react and neutralize the Nether Spires was two seconds.

With the physical presence of roots running through the lines of Nether, the significance was shielded. The influence the Nether Spires could exert drastically decreased. For the next five seconds, the huge web of roots radiating outward from the base of the enormous tree shifted and slithered into new positions as the Ghosthound adjusted his Nether Ritual further. The resonance from the array gradually strengthened.

Suddenly, the Engraving Guild seemed to realize that this attempt wasn’t a taunting joke. The Frost Matriarch could see the higher tiered individuals in the Nether Lattice barking out orders and the grunts scrambling forward. Due to its size, the array the Ghosthound created was absolutely massive; he wouldn’t be able to defend all of it from attacks.

But the Engraving Guild had moved too late. Just as the watchers realized they should be interfering, the Ghosthound activated his Nether Ritual. Significance flooded along the predetermined routes created by the golden roots. An ethereal pulse spread through the surroundings as the higher tiered energy engaged with the complex meaning of the array.

Space warped and the massive working shrunk to target only the small area around the Nether Spire. The Frost Matriarch followed the flows of energy with her senses; the array was weaving the spatial barriers together and turning them against each other in such a complex way that even she was having difficulty following the arrangement.

Then, inexplicably, two of the energy flows that made up the dense network of spatial walls were set against each other. Even more inexplicably, after a few seconds of those flows clashing, the spatial walls around the targeted Nether Spire began to fade out of existence. The collision point between the flows crackled and hissed as more and more pressure built up between them.

The phenomenon spread. The impasse between the two knotted energy flows became a furnace of raw heat while the spatial walls in the area toppled like dominos. Soon, the entire crater was free of those pesky walls. Everyone became very, very aware of each other, all watching the spectacle by the Nether Spire.

And the heat from the impacted flows was so absolute that the Nether Spire began to bubble and collapse like a candle tossed into a burning building. The Nether Array at the Spire’s heart continued for a short while, but it too was eventually invalidated by the heat. With one last shiver, everything collapsed to the ground.

For a brief second, the battlefield was silent. Yet just as quickly, the battle was rejoined with increased fervor.

Along with the spatial walls in the crater, the second Nether Spire had fallen. More and more significance began to pool, but luckily the fallen towers were opposite one another. Meanwhile, the Nether Heralds who had been guarding that Nether Spire retreated to the side with burn-related injuries.

Yet after gathering themselves, they looked toward the Ghosthound’s group with rage-filled eyes.