The Legend of Randidly Ghosthound

Chapter 1981

Chapter 1981

The night after the fight, when most of the audience members were still partying through the Tournament Island one last time and the two competitors were still recovering from their injuries, Charlotte Wick limped her way to the house of Randidly Ghosthound. He saw her coming a long way off.

He had predicted her coming, even during the fight.

Randidly grinned as she walked up to him on the roof, just the two of them exposed underneath the wide expanse of stars. He moved away the clouds and revealed the natural wonder of the cosmic environment above them, made all the more stunning by the fact that he didn’t even know if it was real anymore, with the creation of the Alpha Cosmos. There were definitely some bright celestial bodies that corresponded to some of the other planets he had absorbed, but he hadn’t generated a sun to fuel life on these planets, at least not consciously.

And beyond that, the sky was filled with tiny pinpricks of light. Were their sources all contained within his body? Would he need to literally explore in order to find out? He might have superhuman powers, but travel was still inconvenient.

No matter what the source, it was a tapestry of wonder laid above them. But since it functioned without any problems, Randidly’s curiosity wasn’t enough to pull him from his other tasks.

“You should rest,” Randidly observed as the bear woman swayed and barely managed to catch herself. Walking up the stairs to the roof had left Charlotte trembling. It wasn’t physical weakness that afflicted her, but the steady collapse of her Aether foundation now that she ripped up her stitched together Primal Force. With time, and probably copious exposure to pure Aether, she would rebuild herself. However, tonight was a bit too quick for her to be moving around.

Her image remained a hollowed-out corpse. The pressure of the Nether flows around Randidly, which he purposefully maintained at their usual force, was not easy for her to withstand.

Combined with the strain of her own new Nether Weight settling into her body, resonating with the significance she already possessed-

“I needed to speak with you as soon as possible,” Charlotte spoke in a single breath. If she felt the pain that she should be feeling, it didn’t show on her neutral face. She sucked in another breath and steadied herself. “Because what I want to say concerns the challenge against you. I would like to bow out; please allow someone actually from the Alpha Cosmos to compete.”

Randidly leaned his chin against his fist. His eyes glittered. Significance swirled between the two of them, so familiar in its shape he felt the specter of grief settle on his shoulders. He did his best not to acknowledge it. “The reason?”

Charlotte settled down onto her knees. She trembled the entire time, struggling to keep her torso upright. She met Randidly’s gaze from her lowered position, pride and raw desire in her expression. “I’d like… to be the next Knight of the Ghosthound. As such, it wouldn’t be appropriate for me to fight against you in the challenge.”

Randidly felt his First Authority stir. A hand squeezed his heart. That ugly and possessive part of himself rose to the surface, aiming to dominate the world entirely and obliterate his sorrow. The Stillborn Phoenix stretched out its hunger toward Charlotte to accept this offering but he cautioned his image back. For several long seconds, he simply studied the kneeling bearwoman. “What makes you believe you have the qualifications to fill that sort of role?”

For the first time, Charlotte smiled with obvious relish. “You saw that last attack in the tournament, yea?”

“And how long will it take until your wounded ass can produce it consistently?” Randidly’s smile stretched into a mocking grin. Something feral twisted his features with glee as he studied Charlotte, rifling through her images and significance. The significance tightened around the two of them.

Her face fell. Yet she remained determined as she lowered herself down and pressed her forehead to the ground. “No one else is better suited to the role than I am. I have won the tournament. I’ve trained for this. You… I admire you more than you know, Randidly Ghosthound. The fact that you defeated my ancestor only makes me more sure I want this. As your Knight, I will fight your enemies to my last breath.”

Randidly leaned back in his chair. Truly, if Charlotte could create a whole image around that red light and produce it reliably, she would probably be more powerful than Raymund Ballast. Of all his current allies, probably only Claudette Beigon and Edraine were reliably stronger. “...setting aside the issue of your suitability, what makes you believe such a position is necessary? What you can do, I can do better. That position… was only created due to Helen. It is not something I need.”

“No matter how powerful you become, there will be greater and lesser threats vying for your attention,” Charlotte continued to speak with her forehead pressed to the ground. “Having a reliable subordinate to clear out the debris will only benefit you. Helen may be the first, but she doesn’t need to be the last.”

Randidly’s eyes became almost neon. That feral possessiveness of the First Authority surged in his chest as he prepared for his next question. Drops of cruelty rolled off his tongue. “I can’t deny that I wish to have more time for my own projects. However, do you truly covet this role? You recall what happened to my previous Knight. And I cared deeply about her. You… will always just be a replacement. A convenient fit. A tool that will likely meet just as horrible and pained an end as she did. The foes I will fight against will not become kinder.”

“I want to be your Knight, no matter how it will likely end,” Charlotte whispered. Her nascent Nether Core pulsed. Bit by bit, the larger chunks of Nether were drifting closer to one another. Eventually, so long as she continued to live like this and make bold decisions, her Nether Core would naturally form. “Even if I’m only a tool to you, your Knight will understand and respect your decisions. It would be my honor to die for you. And I would hope you would find someone else dependable, should I no longer be fit to serve.”

Randidly sneered. His First Authority wanted to tighten on the whole of Expira, squeezing until the ground ruptured and the core of the planet was pulped in his grasp. The prospect of another Knight dying for him left him rabid with fury.

It was everything he hated about the Nexus. To take this step seemed almost to be acknowledging the methods of the monsters of the Nexus; like them, he would use the younger generation as shields for larger games.

In the riskiest moments, perhaps it would not be Randidly that would pay the price for mistakes.

Yet he endured those emotions. Slowly, they settled into his seething resolve to dismantle the Nexus. Randidly pressed his eyes shut. To have one Knight created a single connection. But the more he understood of Nether, the more he had to be aware that repetition of connections would give them staying power. If he said yes to Charlotte Wick now, if she someday died and he remained, he would have another Knight.

Judging by Helen’s end, the retirements of all future Knights would not be clean. Although largely that would be determined by how Charlotte added to the pattern. Each companion would need to step into that role understanding the way it would probably end. Which was why Randidly armored his heart in cruelty to try and dissuade Charlotte.

Which is why he would now claim he would not mourn her passing, no matter what would happen in the future.

Yet he could feel her genuine desire to be his Knight. Both to assist him and to follow in Helen’s footsteps. Especially now that she began to incorporate more of Helen’s original image into her fighting style. That authenticity had power. It mobilized her significance.

It did not hurt that she seemed likely to be the next person to form a genuine Nether Core, although he couldn’t be sure how long it would take to happen.

Randidly sighed. He ached in regret of this decision already, yet he also felt a fierce sense of joy and pride. “I accept.”

“In addition,” Charlotte straightened. Her eyes flashed. “I would like to request that the eight challengers be forced to fight me first. As your Knight-”

“Denied.” Randidly stepped forward and gripped Charlotte’s arm, hauling her to her feet. His Fourth Authority mobilized itself and released waves of animating energy through her still sore body and torn image. She gasped and swayed while he continued to speak. “You would keel over fighting against four- right now, Alana alone would wipe the floor with you. No, if you are really my Knight, I’ll handle your training regimen for the foreseeable future. Recovery is your current assignment. Before you are strong enough to raise your head with pride, don’t go spreading the word that you're my Knight, alright?

“Besides…” Randidly grinned. “The benefit of being in charge… is sometimes you get to save the fun jobs for yourself.”

*****

Hank’s eyebrows rose. “Charlotte’s so injured she won’ be joinin’ the challenge? So are we goin’ with seven? Doesn’t rightly seem fair.”

“No,” Alana shook her head. “There will be a mini-tournament to determine who will be joining us. They fight tomorrow. Mrs. Hamilton, Azriel, Wivanya, and DiOrtho Vant have already bowed out, so it will be either Allowaen, Illdan, Wolfram, or Kayle that join us.”

Paolo groaned and slammed his mug of ale down on the table. “It better not be Kayle. You know how much gloating I’ve done over the past week? And to have it all come for nothing… a bitter disappointment. Of course, the universe conspires to help that sly bastard.”

At the table with them, Hong Li sipped tea. Beatrice sat with both hands wrapped around her drink, still somewhat glassy-eyed to be near so many famous warriors. Kimpap sat without a drink, simply listening with a polite smile on her face. Drake was still recuperating, but otherwise, the entire group who would challenge Randidly was present.

With one extra, and very opinionated, individual.

“Kayle would be the ideal victor,” Azriel observed. “In terms of usefulness, his penetrative image will fulfill a much-needed role in the time.”

“Isn’t Drake’s image somewhat similar?” Paolo waved a hand. “That fucker buzzed around with a sword of pure light. We don’t need Kayle.”

“His image is unrelated to that power- it is Drake’s emotional affect and the strange incorporate of his Fate that manifested in such a way.” Azriel frowned at Paolo. “Besides, the others are even more useless. Wolfram’s image is based on the Ghosthound’s capabilities, without his thematic power. Allowaen is a Chimera, based on the Ghosthound’s other image. Her body is shaped to be similar to his. Meanwhile, Illdan is a short-sighted child-”

“Please, be more respectful of the Spearman Reborn,” Kimpap made a face, somehow managing to convey both sarcasm and a fierce defense of the young man. “He is the future of Tellus. Or have you completely abandoned your homeworld?”

“It holds little emotional value to me,” Azriel retorted. “And unlike certain groups, I have no desire to monopolize power and suppress the average individual in order to maintain an outdated lifestyle.”

“Now, now,” Hong Li smiled around at the group and raised his hands placatingly. “Let’s not fight over a future that might not come to pass. Observation will bring us naturally to the truth, so long as we wait. And who knows? Perhaps the winner of the competition will surprise us. Maybe even enough to give us a new perspective.”

“Yur such a flower fart,” Hank snorted. Alana’s eye twitched; he was clearly still bitter about his loss. Hong Li just responded with a smile and took a sip of his tea.

“Wasn’t there another purpose for the meeting?” Paolo looked around at the group. “To actually discuss fighting against the Ghosthound? Let’s get to it, then. Before we start wondering how well we would have faired in the other side of the bracket.”

Kimpap shrugged. “Is this really necessary? I have seen the Ghosthound’s powers and truly the breadth of his capabilities makes him a monster. However, he is just one man. With the eight of us working together-”

“You have seen his capabilities manifested separately,” Azriel clicked her tongue. “Yet what makes the Ghosthound special is that he will be doing each of those things, all at once.”

“Are you kidding me? The mental energy required to mobilize even two images, let alone harmonize three manifestations while somehow working in Nether into his attacks-” Kimpap started off speaking with a laugh, but as she looked around, she noticed Hank and Paolo’s grim expressions. Even Hong Li’s unshakable smile had lost some of its cheer. Kimpap blinked several times.

“The kid’s a monster,” Hank shrugged. “While being essentially indestructible, to boot.”

“Obviously, it will be difficult, but there is some hope. His manifestation of his Nether Storm clearly reveals he has a glaring weakness.” Azriel continued. “One we can exploit.”

Paolo tilted his head to the side. “Alana mentioned this, but I don’t really get it. What do you mean, you can see a weakness?”

Alana leaned forward and spoke slowly to the group. “At first, I was similarly skeptical. But I’ve watched it closely during the last few matches of the tournament. And I have to admit that Azriel might have a point. It is unnaturally still; whereas the rest of his emotions flow smoothly, these are unnaturally held stiff and preserved.”

Kimpap frowned. “And you can see it?”

Azriel grinned. “Of course. His problem is the eye of the storm. Perpetual stillness, right in the middle of all that swirling energy. Obviously, there are physical reasons for actual storms to possess an eye, but a Nether Storm follows very different rules. In this case, Randidly’s emotions toward his Grey Creature image. He refuses to let it stir too directly; so far as I can tell, there are emotions there he doesn’t want to disturb or examine. Attacking this weakness directly will give you a chance. The rest will be up to you and your teamwork.”