Chapter 1726

Chapter 1726

“There are smaller stations on the different floors, so we don’t need to practice out here with everyone watching,” Lady Iellaya explained as took the staircase to the next floors. Randidly rolled his shoulders at the stares he and Claudette received as the wound between the differently outfitted, but his stubbornness quickly rose to the surface. These might be the most powerful individuals in Military High Command, but he gradually thickened his skin to ignore their gazes. “So we can practice without using the central area for now. But since you will be participating as an independent faction...”

“A representative needs to be down in the middle at all times?” Randidly guessed. Lady Iellaya nodded and then shrugged.

Of course, that’s how it works...

As the trio moved away from Commandant Wick, the ambient emotional pressure started to recede. At the same time, Randidly didn’t hold himself back in whirling his Nether Core within his chest and allowing the Stillborn Phoenix to very subtly breath in the emotions to siphon out some of the bite. He wasn't sure if Claudette understood what was happening, but his interference dismantled the stuffy pressure around them. Both stood straighter, even pausing to stop at an ornate food table and filling a plate before following the impatient Lady Iellaya.

Of course, a single taste of that made Randidly reflexively think that Nrorce was a better cook, which brought him back to the whole issue with the goblin... Grimacing, he lowered his utensil and deposited his full plate in the trash.

Randidly glanced around at a few members of the orange faction, who continued nibbling at their own foods and very purposefully didn’t look at him. His eyebrows knitted together. I came here for a distraction and the off chance I would see Vualla. I made a few mistakes in my preparation, because I didn’t think much of this event. But that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t try to enjoy a party. Rhythm games... can be fun.

Congratulations! Your Skill Soul Bond has grown to Level 357!

Through their Soulbond, Randidly felt Neveah’s flash of pleasure at that thought and he had to roll his eyes. Then he gestured for the nervous-looking Lady Iellaya to lead him to a side area, where four of the grids were laying. One of them was in use, so that Randidly and Claudette could receive an explanation of how the Grand Dance worked with a demonstration.

“The publicly acknowledged most powerful Speculum, one of the original founders of Military High Command, originally created this method of training for his earliest disciples,” Lady Iellaya said. Randidly watched with interest as various symbols and squares lit up and flashed with light before the individual stepped sideways onto that particular square and triggered them in a flash of light. “The image of this grand Speculum is extremely esoteric... focusing on intuition, patience, and serendipity. In the end, this method was the only way that he could find to instill those values in his follower.”

“Let me guess,” Randidly interjected as a way of showing some good cheer. “Lady Iellaya... you aren’t very good at the Grand Dance are you?”

Lady Iellaya pursed her lips and snorted. But she continued speaking without answer, basically confirming Randidly’s suspicions. “The key rules are simple: the goal is to trigger the various tiles when they are at their peak brightness, which requires an acute grasp of timing. But the patterns devised by the talented Speculum are quite mysterious. Sometimes, the tiles that will light up seem completely random. As soon as you are comfortable, a new combination will arrive to shatter your understanding...”

It was at that point, watching the sweating, gilled humanoid on the tiles struggling to keep up with the rapidly flaring tiles, that Randidly realized the most unexpected aspect of the Grand Dance: it was silent. There was no music accompaniment, meaning that the patterns sometimes shifted in confusing ways.

Randidly scratched his cheek. I mean, I guess taking away the music from a rhythm game would make them harder... but is there any point to doing so...? Focusing on serendipity, huh... just sounds like this Speculum likes torturing his disciples...

Neveah, whose consciousness flowed in with Randidly to watch the fun, began to actually assign notes to the various little tiles and sing along with the pattern. Dum didi dum da DA DA DA~

“Is it truly weakness? You and I both know that... few can survive the trials of the Path to the Pinnacle. The Nether King will die, just as so many others have.” Wick rumbled. “There is no need to worry.”

“The being doesn’t rely on Aether. How can the usual defenses work against it?” Tipplin countered. She gestured imperiously and one of her subordinates brought her a plate of pickled rodents. Only when the man bowed and retreated did she continue to speak around chopping bites of the nasty smelling things. “But this is why the small threats should be eliminated. Alone, they are nothing. But if they start banding together-”

“And if we took the effort to squash themselves, we would exhaust ourselves,” Commandant Wick countered. Then he noticed the change in the air and raised his head. He waved a paw. “We can discuss later, with the other Commandants once the Grand Dance has occurred.”

Commandant Tipplin’s lips curled up into a sneer. “Heh. Do you wish to go and watch your Head Drill Sergeant embarrass himself...?”

Gesturing curtly to his subordinates, Commandant Wick headed down to the lower ballroom floor without bothering to answer. The alliance between the two of them was made purely out of necessity, so he had already grown used to the other Commandant’s needling. There was no point in avoiding this; even now, every individual at the Imperium Ball was discussing the fact that there was suddenly an independent faction participating. Better that he be there as a presence to suppress the rumors then allow them to ferment in his absence.

Lady Iellaya came to his side as he lumbered across the fresco floor to the arena of the Grand Dance. “Apologies, Commandant. I took longer than the allotted time to instruct the Former Head Drill Sergeant, but-”

Commandant Wick gave her a sharp glance and she blessedly ceased speaking. It wasn’t like he needed the relatively weak Lady Iellaya by his side constantly. Any effort to improve the fool boy’s performance was worth it. However, there was no need for this thoughtless descendant of the Peregrine Serpents to spread her inefficiency to every curious ear.

The other factions shifted into place. Normally the leaders stayed at the back of the venue for the event, but since Commandant Wick was going to watch the central arena directly, the other Commandants would not allow him to be the only face there. After everyone was in position, an old man with a can walked out of the back and onto the raised platform and stood next to the obelisk that controlled the patterns for the tiles. His eyes were rheumy as he looked around at the six factions participating. The five normal ones... and Head Drill Sergeant Ghosthound.

The Ghosthound stood with the Beigon girl, surrounded by empty space. In fact, the other factions had to cluster more closely together to create such a wide gulf of space. However, despite their independence, both kept their heads held high. The Ghosthound stood at rigid attention.

If nothing else, the boy has spine. Wick mused. Of course, as soon as he thought that, he had the overwhelming urge to break the Ghosthound. But he soothed that response for the moment. There was no need to rush this. Instead, Commandant Wick turned back to the old man.

If the old man saw anything strange, his expression didn’t reveal it. He simply smiled and began to speak. “I have the honor of being one of the first disciples to be taught by our Lord Speculum using this method. When I first began... it was simply work. It fills my heart with joy to see that the beauty and complexity of my master’s methods have spread to fill Military High Command...”

Commandant Wick scowled inwardly. You mean you enjoy spreading the misery around, you old goat.

The old man delivered the same slow, platitude-filled speech that he did every year. The Commandant quickly stopped listening and turned his attention again to the rigid form of the Ghosthound.

The Grand Dance was composed of twenty-one secret patterns, seven of mild difficulty, seven of moderate, and seven of extreme difficulty. Each faction must send a representative for each or forfeit their place in subsequent rounds. Usually, different individuals would switch out between rounds, so weaker subordinates took the earlier patterns, while stronger ones handled the latter.

Considering the mental stress... so long as the Ghosthound manages to persist through the Mild Patterns, I will not hold a grudge, Commandant Wick decided. His heavy gaze flicked sideways and landed on Claudette Beigon, who stood next to the Ghosthound with a polite and empty smile on her face. And if she participates... two of the moderate difficulty patterns. That can be considered enough of a redemption for him.