The Legend of Randidly Ghosthound

“Myself, Hank, Li Hong, Charlotte Wick, Paolo, Drake, Beatrice, and Kimpap,” Alana counted off the top eight on her fingers. She and Azriel sat on the edge of a cliff along Tournament Island, watching the waves crash against the shore about ten meters below them. The air smelled of salt and warmth. The heavy stones beneath them had been warmed by the sun. “Only a few of the individuals I expected have made it. Makes the whole process of the tournament interesting. I wonder who will be champion?”

Azriel’s mouth twisted. She impatiently waved a hand in the air. “The championship ultimately matters not at all. What will have a definite impact on the development of the Alpha Cosmos is the challenge against the Ghosthound. By targeting his weakness, we can ensure he addresses it. That should be our main goal.”

“I disagree,” Alana sucked in a deep breath. The heat in her chest made her lightheaded. It made the stones and even the sun above them seem cool and light. She tapped her foot on the ground, eager to move.

“You think Randidly won’t address the weakness once he knows about that? Well, that’s why we must demonstrate its importance.” Azriel rubbed her chin. “Although I cannot deny that sometimes that man makes inexplicable decisions-”

“No, I mean I think it its a mistake to say that who wins the tournament doesn’t matter.” Alana cracked her jaw and rubbed the tip of her tongue along the inside of her front teeth. She played with the heat, examining it as it radiated out through her limbs in uneven pulses. It wasn’t exactly excitement, although there was an element of that.

“The Ghosthound has promised prizes, but recognition and objects will eventually fade,” Azriel said dismissively.

Alana chuckled. “But… it’s all in preparation for what follows. It is ritual, do you see? The shape of the tournament, the steady culling of the unworthy… the final winner, uniting with some of the most powerful defeated to challenge the Ghosthound… sure, the winner has no special authority, but don’t you think that the winner will be the centerpiece of the plan to attack the Ghosthound in the challenge? That first place is an anointing. You become the blade to pierce his heart. These are necessary steps.”

It was an honor that Alana burned for. She spent the last few days being consumed by those emotions.

That, and her desire for revenge on Kimpap for humiliating Wivanya.

“Hum. Yes, well.” Azriel considered that. “I believe that ritual is often a purposeful delay to artificially inflate the value of something. So, in a way, I suppose there is an element of truth to what you are saying. Randidly created the tournament and dragged it out like this so people’s expectations could be set on the power of those from the Nexus. Then he could swoop in and shatter those expectations with a thorough demonstration of power.”

Then Azriel shrugged. “However, that matters little to me. Today, as I told you, I’d like to show you something. A concrete piece of evidence; proof you need to listen to my words. We can examine the literal manifestation of the Ghosthound’s folly. Do you have the capability to view Nether?”

Alana clenched her fists and tightened her control over the inferno inside her chest. Sometimes, she couldn’t believe she wasn’t smoking as she walked around the island. Gradually, she forced back that heat and folded it into a corner of her heart, leaving herself clear-headed. Then she tapped into the Grand Ritual that the Ghosthound had placed in the Core of Expira. Her eyes went unfocused as she looked up and saw the milky and dark energy of Nether churning in the sky. “Yes, I can see it.”

They all sat under it. A horrifyingly powerful maelstrom hung over Tournament Island, announcing Randidly’s presence. The lines of energy were beautiful in a way, but dangerous as frothing river rapids.

Azriel nodded. Then she pointed to the sky. “Look there. Right there. Do you see? That’s the weakness.”

Alana followed her finger. For several seconds, she couldn’t understand. And then frowned. “You mean… but why would that be a weakness?”

Azriel looked at Alana like she was an idiot. “Compare that portion of his Nether storm to the rest. How can you not notice it is different? You are falling for the same logical fallacy that is afflicting Randidly. Do not let what it looks like distract you from what it is. This is the problem with images; sometimes, you must remember that they are a lie in order to strengthen them.”

After staring upward for thirty more seconds, Alana nodded slowly. Now that it was pointed out to her, it was easy to see what Azriel was talking about. Even if she wasn’t exactly correct about it being a weakness, the energy in that indicated area was definitely different from what was around it. A flaw, or a gap, definitely. “Alright. So what do we do? It’s one thing to see the weakness in the storm, its another entirely to use it against him in a fight.”

Azriel waved a hand. “Don’t worry about that either. I’ve already identified the significance of that area: that relates to his image of the Grey Creature. Of all his images, it is the most dangerous. But also the most emotionally flawed. Toward the Grey Creature, we should concentrate our attention. If we can land a definitive blow against it, we will definitely grab his attention.”

*****

Randidly raised his head and laughed, long and loud. His emerald eyes were covered in thick shadows, Nether flowing in front of him in an infinite number of directions. His whole awareness seemed to expand and spread. He felt the past and the future orbiting around the present, getting closer and then farther away.

The Nether he could sense constantly shifted. Or perhaps it was more accurate to say that while his awareness stayed the same, his framework to view Nether continually folded itself into new shapes. It pressed itself into a narrow peephole and then expanded to fill the entire sky. It became square and then inflated to become a three-dimensional pyramid.

Congratulations! Your Skill Nether Sensation (L) has grown to Level 920!

Congratulations! Your Skill Right Hand of the Nether Polymath (M) has grown to Level 763!

“I can’t quite manage multiple perspectives toward Nether at once,” Randidly said to himself. “But so long as I cycle through varied perspectives with enough speed, I should still have plenty of insight into the shapes of Nether.”

The inspiration had come during his talk with Allowaen when he had briefly glimpsed the future. Upon sleeping off the mental strain, Randidly had begun chasing that short-term insight, trying to figure out how exactly significance had allowed to give him that breadth of vision. After ten hours of furious thinking, he found it.

Humming with newfound awareness, Randidly turned his attention to his stressed Nether Core. With the twisting and folding perspective, he quickly alleviated most of the pressure in the area by rotating some of the significance to unusual dimensions. However, this also had the downside that perhaps the next evolution of his Nether Core was farther away than he had thought.

Sighing, Randidly opened his eyes. He had the vague idea to head again to B’s Crossing and obtain some food from Nrorce, but he quickly stiffened. He was sitting on top of his house on his skyisland. But floating nearby, looking down at him, was another figure.

The silhouette stunk of unresolved business.

Randidly raised his hand and beckoned; in a way, he knew it was only a matter of time before someone had come from Tellus to speak to him. Kimpap landed on the roof opposite him with a smile on her face. “Well met, Randidly Ghosthound, heir to the Spear Phantom Style. It has been quite some time since you have graced Tellus with your presence. How have you been?”

Randidly couldn’t help himself; he snorted. Kimpap raised her eyebrow so Randidly waved a hand. “You just took me by surprise. With such polite small talk. I had a very harsh experience, both times I spent a significant amount of time on Tellus. Very little of it was related to talking or being polite. Mostly, I almost died several times in short succession.”

“Ah, of course,” Kimpap’s smile returned. “You were raised under the Spearman School: a group of body-obsessed brutes. And your master is Shal, who had an extremely rough upbringing himself. It could not have been easy, to develop as you did.”

Gradually, the amusement slid off Randidly’s face. He was too tired to engage in this strained discussion. “...what do you want?”

“How quick you are to shift into hostility,” Kimpap maintained her polite tone, but her wicked little smile revealed that she was only too happy to move on to her true purpose in meeting him. “As you are no doubt aware, Shal is very… politically important, due to his image being used to pass the Second Calamity. However, once he departed Tellus, he never returned. Quite a bit of business was left unresolved. We are hoping you’d be able to get us into contact with him.”

“And your involvement in the tournament-” Randidly said slowly.

Kimpap smiled. “Personally? Just to make sure we were able to get your attention. There are still some of the old guard alive on Tellus, who remember your service to our world, Mr. Randidly Ghosthound. I will gladly bow out and allow your people to claim the top spots in exchange for your assistance.”

Randidly kept his expression neutral while his mind raced through the possibilities. Kimpap had rather impeccable control over her significance and emotions; without making his attempts obvious, he couldn’t peer too deeply into her motivations and thoughts. And what he could glean just make him feel vaguely uncomfortable. She wanted something. Very, very badly.

His pupils dilated as a possibility occurred to him. Because Shal being politically important didn’t seem like the heavy-handed and indulgent Tellus elite at all. But if it was about more concrete benefits-

Considering the patterns that the System followed, Randidly had an idea about what this ‘unresolved business’ might be.

“Ah, this is about the ancillary reward,” Randidly said slowly. He smiled widely at Kimpap. “For defeating the Second Calamity.”

For a brief moment, Kimpap’s emotions surged. She worried when he said those words. But she nodded coolly. “Indeed. As far as we can tell, it is extremely difficult for Tellus to accept this reward without him being personally present. Some… failed experiments revealed it is theoretically possible, but not worth the cost. Have you been in contact with him recently?”

Randidly’s expression clouded, thinking of Shal. The current version of Shal, who had given up on his own image and boosted his power with crafted armaments. His heart ached to think how far his master had fallen.

Still, no reason to reveal everything I know, Randidly glanced at Kimpap, gauging her calm eyes. Especially when I have no idea whether he’s still alive.

“I have been in contact, but not recently,” Randidly said aloud. Then he reached up and rubbed his chin. “Let me… make you a deal. If you win the tournament, I’ll help you resolve the business. Either by contacting Shal, or making arrangements myself. I promise you I don’t covet the Nexus’s prizes. But only if you win the tournament.”

Kimpap narrowed her eyes. “You… want me to continue competing? But why?”

“Because I don’t think winning the tournament will be as easy as you think,” Randidly grinned.