Chapter 1970

Chapter 1970

“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?”

“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.