The Legend of Randidly Ghosthound

Chapter 2037

Chapter 2037

With a resounding crack, the flames stuttered and dispersed. The silver lion yelped. Suddenly they were just two men standing opposite each other, Randidly gripping the wounded Acri still stuck in his opponent’s chest. His emerald eyes flickering, Randidly squeezed the weapon and prepared to rip it across-

But when Randidly tried to move, he found himself empty. His image physicalizations were already dispersing. Completely, totally empty. His emotions spent, his Nether almost entirely dry, his images crumbling away. The two men continued to stare at each other, Duulys stunned and Randidly vaguely disappointed that this was his limit. He tugged listlessly at Acri’s shaft, just barely managing to dislodge the weapon from

But of course, Randidly was not alone.

The process of Pullas activating her tattoo was extremely painful, as it scraped away the last scraps of Nether he possessed. But then Randidly fell on his butt next to her, leaving the solemn-faced Fiona facing her former husband.

“Why did you… say the barren one was me?” Fiona whispered. Her words had the acidic tang of a phrase long held in the shadows.

Duulys’s mouth worked silently for several seconds. Above him, his silver lion slumped and shrank until it was a guilty kitten. His head began to shake slowly. “I… never said that.”

*****

Memories came to him, the memories that had kept him going to this point.

Duulys Ambar had fought on the frontlines for a long time. His relationship with Fiona had been well established while he was at his peak; he had finally forced his family to accept her with his series of victories on the frontlines. He threw himself into the thick of every battle, determined to leave no room for criticism.

Each victory felt like a stamp of approval on the future Duulys wanted.

She was the one who always encouraged him to train. She was the one who would look up at the stars and wave her fist when they were just teenagers, constantly boasting about everything she would accomplish when she grew up and developed her own powerful image. And Duulys had watched and laughed, while inwardly resolving to prove himself as a worthy partner for her.

On the frontlines, he found that platform to cement his dominance. Sure, he would sometimes lose his temper with the incompetence of the surrounding Commanders, but he always won against the Nether forces. He had sent Fiona teasing messages, bragging shamelessly that she had better step up her performance if she wanted to be a worthy partner of him.

Her replies were acidic and scathing to the point that they threw him. So Duulys did the only thing he knew how; fighting more valiantly on the frontlines. Each stamp of a victory helped alleviate a strange uneasiness that built in him.

Of course, as with any battlefield, Duulys occasionally sustained injuries. Steadily, small amounts of antagonistic Nether began to accumulate in his body. With his powerful image, it was relatively easy to isolate and trap them. So he didn’t worry about it.

Finally, the war ended. He returned home. For the first time in three years, Duulys and Fiona met. The weirdly disjointed and awkwardness of their communications wasn’t that important, because they had finally found each other. After several glasses of brandy and a long talk, Duulys’s nerves had thawed and Fiona was laughing.

He cupped her cheeks with his scarred hands and she deftly unbuttoned his shirt with one hand. They made love. It should have been wonderful.

Suddenly, a hidden consequence of the angry bits of Nether in his body became apparent. There, holding himself poised above her naked body, he had felt it.

Afterward, he returned to the military barracks, unable to even face Fiona. He destroyed his standard-issue cot, shredded his uniform, even thoroughly beat a subordinate for failing to follow exact military protocol. It was there, his shoulders rising and falling and his emotions seething, that Mimic had found him.

“Commander Ambar,” Mimic had said. Even now, those words echoed in his head. They had the silent catch of hidden mechanism triggering. The strange, unusual Mimic, whose development was so far from the norm. In that way, Duulys had a soft spot for the man, even those their unique Paths were wildly different. “What’s the matter?”

It had both been an immense relief to be given the opportunity to speak and taken every ounce of Duulys to answer honestly. But Mimic was a member of their race; he dare not lie. “Fiona and I… will be unable to be the hope of the Raesham. We cannot have children.”

Duulys had collapsed, spent and filled with a sense of deep inferiority now that he laid his weakness bare. Perhaps Fiona had always been right; he will never be able to live up to being her partner, no matter how much he fought and won.

But everything began to go wrong after that. Mimic’s eyes widened. “I always suspected… but Fiona is barren?”

Duulys looked wordlessly at Mimic, confused. Mimic took that for agreement. Duulys Ambar was unable to gather himself in time to realize what had transpired. Mimic took the news out into the world and spread it. Soon Ambar’s family came, condescending and full of condolences. They tried to comfort him, patting his shoulder and refraining from saying ‘I told you so’.

Yet their attitudes only made it worse. It was like the entire universe conspired to cover up his failure. He felt wretched. All his victories meant nothing in comparison to this failure.

Duulys saw Fiona for the first time after that at the congratulatory award dinner, where he was honored for his accomplishments on the front line. The first half of the dinner was almost normal- Fiona laughed and nudged him, as though no one had told her the rumors circulating about her. Then, in the middle of the dinner, one of Duulys’s distant family members had spoken directly to Fiona, ruining everything.

“It would be easiest,” the man had said, wine sloshing out of the edges of his cup as he gestured imperiously. “If you simply broke off the engagement from your end and ceased with this selfishness. Considering your condition.”

Fiona blinked very slowly. Her powerful image stirred within her body. “...my condition?”

“A barren wife is as useless as a sword without a blade,” The man proclaimed.

Fiona’s eyes swiveled sideways to Duulys. She quirked her eyebrow, mocking the wild antics of his family. And Duulys, to his shame, simply closed his eyes. His own wound was too raw. The last thing he saw was a horrible hurt crossing her face. He couldn’t bring himself to admit that he was the one unworthy of her, not in front of so many people.

She had left without a word. He hadn’t seen her since, although rumors about her were exactly why Duulys had come to the Sonara in the first place.

In the present, Fiona looked at him with suspicion for several seconds. Finally, her mouth settled into a grim line. “You are being honest. But do you really think it’s much better that you allowed the entire world to mock your wife without correcting them?”

Duulys lowered his head, shame curdled his chest and became fury. He squeezed his eyes together; he clenched his hands and his arms began to tremble.

“Your stupid fucking pride,” Fiona whispered. “Why can’t you drop it, even now?”

What am I, without pride? Duulys hated himself. I can’t even be a good husband. I cannot be a father. I cannot defend my wife… even from myself.

The silence dragged on for several seconds. The silence was agony, more so than trying to even crush that infuriating Ghosthound in his Endless Silver Hell. His heart beat unevenly, almost as though it was trying to tear itself apart. Duulys felt his eyes reddening. Fury washed over him, burying the other emotions. Which left him with the truth that he had sworn himself by for the last several hundred years.

His silver lion began to grow in size again. Silver flames flickered to life along the ground around him. Duulys gritted his teeth. As long as he was strong, as long as he could win fights, the rest of his life didn’t-

“Sorry about this Randidly, but I think it’s the best method to end this,” Fiona called over her shoulder, only infuriating Duulys further. The flames lengthened as he gathered force into himself. He couldn’t quite look Fiona in the eye, but he could fight. Even if it was her, even if… even if everything wasn’t her fault at all, he would fight.

That was the only way Duulys could keep moving.

He tensed as Fiona took a step closer to him, but more because of all the memories associated with her than any fear of retribution. His Fate began to glow with power, the armor preparing for every eventuality-

Fiona took another step forward. Duulys froze because he knew this motion. It used to be one of his favorite ways that she moved, graceful like a bird dipping her beak into water. Fiona leaned forward and pressed her lips against his.

This wasn’t a memory. It rocked him, shattered all his emotions and left him raw. This was real.

In the next instant, a terrible darkness came. It was a weapon of Nether that bit into the fabric of the world and ripped away a larger chunk of him. Because of their proximity, because of how vulnerable that kiss made him, Duulys didn’t even have time to react before his image had vanished, consumed by the hungry darkness. Even the warmth seemed to have been stolen out of his body.

He tried to gasp but Duulys’s lungs wouldn’t work. He rocked back on his heels. Fiona patted his cheek, her eyes bright and a false smile plastered across her face. “This is for taking something from me.”

Duulys fell to the ground. He wanted to claim that he had done nothing to her, but he had done nothing at all. Even when his wife had needed him most, he could manage nothing. His shame swelled within his body, smothering the defensive rage.

Fiona turned away from him without another glance. Duulys fell to his knees, listlessly watching her. Still, his lungs refused to work. She gestured at her three companions. “He should be out of commission for a while. That one had some extra punch, eh? Good work Randidly. Fuck, I’m cold.”

“I think Randidly is dead,” the metal man piped up.

That obnoxious Pullas puffed out her cheeks and scolded the metal one. “He’s not dead. He’s just unconscious. And you are going to carry him.”

“That seems unlikely.” The metal man folded his arms.

Fiona, cool as a cucumber, as if she hadn’t figuratively ripped out a chunk of him, joined the group. “Well we would carry him, but you know how slow we get when we get encumbered. Meanwhile, you have all the makings of a great packhorse.”

“And if I refuse?” He growled in response.

Fiona shrugged. “Well, I’m going inside. You can leave him out to rest here with that pile of shit, if you want.”

The metal man looked over at Duulys. Despite this pathetic climber’s sneer, Duulys couldn’t find the energy within his body to react at all. “Pah, no, I suppose I cannot allow that. Alright, up you go you big- gah! How is he this heavy?!?”

Duulys watched the three of them totter away, heading into the home he had built to mirror the one he had shared so long ago with Fiona. Before he had remained silent. His lungs still refused to work, his image had vanished. All the fire and heat disappeared from his person.

Those happy memories felt so, so long ago now. All that remained was a frozen gasp, seizing his entire body.