Chapter 105 (1/2)

Daniel watched calmly as all of the final battle on the arena unfolded. He carefully noted every skill that the Ghosthound used, doing his best to mark down their effects based upon observation. From there, he tried to extrapolate information about stats.

Ultimately, he gave up; the Ghosthound simply had too many skills and stat boosts from places to keep track of all of their influences. There were simply too many variables to account for them all.

“Do you think we can really win against him?” Daniel asked, setting his notebook to the side.

Mrs. Hamilton smiled at him, amused. “Don’t be so caught up in his pace and past accomplishments. Just look. What is happening?”

Daniel looked, seeing the rapid march of the squads as they rushed towards the Ghosthound’s form, as he slowly stood. His breathing was even, but his eyes were narrow, scanning the oncoming wave of bodies. As they approached, he simply allowed them to come, making no move to dodge, breathing slowly.

When they arrived, they pressed forward, shields raised. The Ghosthound’s pole dipped low, smashing against the shins of one man, who stumbled briefly. That man was immediately met with a roundhouse kick, which knocked him backwards, and the Ghosthound was able to step forward into the small gap, lashing out with his pole. The squad parted, flowing around him, and Paolo and Kayle rushed forward, both attacking at the same time, with a cooperation that surprised Daniel.

The Ghosthound simply grimaced, his spear blurring to knock away every attack that came his way. Seeing their chance, the squad members surged closer.

Suddenly, it seemed like the flurry of attacks coming from all directions was too much for him, and the Ghosthound suddenly let an attack through. The woman’s eyes gleamed, as she slashed downwards. Unfortunately, the Ghosthound twisted, and the blow was shallow.

His follow up was not.

His punch took her in the chest, cracking her centipede shell armor. Gasping, she fell to her knees, blood dripping from her lips. The Ghosthound hopped lightly over her, then grabbed her and threw her out of the arena. Two other squad members rushed forward, roaring, but the Ghosthound’s pole cracked them both in the head, after they left the safety of their superior numbers to attack him.

Those two, too, were thrown out, and the Ghosthound calmly turned to regard the remaining group. He sported several small cuts, and blood slowly ran down from his ribs and shoulder. The Ghosthound flexed his bare feet and grinned, as if asking them if this was all they had.

Donny’s voice echoed out, and the squad rumbled forward, rushing towards the Ghosthound once more.

“I see… Donny ordering the attack, but neither he, Dozer, nor Decklan are participating,” Daniel said, frowning. “Of the most powerful, only Kayle and Paolo are fighting, and they are only doing so passively, harrying him. Why are they letting him defeat the squad members like this?”

Mrs. Hamilton just smiled, shaking her head. “Because they want to win. Randidly can beat the squad members, but it costs him Stamina. And without Donny committing, Randidly cannot strike a blow to eliminate them all at once.”

“So it’s going to continue like this…?”

“Likely no. the Ghosthound is not one you can corner so easily, not even with our highest trained squad members. If we are going to defeat the Ghosthound… we need a little more..”

They both turned their gazes back to the arena, not daring to look away.

****

Randidly frowned. Donny certainly had gotten callous. He could rip through these fodder all night, but it would deplete his already sorry stores of mana. It would be much easier if the fight with the main force happened while he had stamina to spare, but it appears they were content to wait him out.

Fine, he supposed it was time to bring the fight to them.

As the front tanks marched forward, Randidly abruptly raced to meet them, pole raised. He really missed his Spine-Spear, both for its size, strength bonus, and blade, but he supposed this pole was a much better weapon for insuring there were no casualties. He should have at least put a blade on this weapon… But whining about it now would do no good. With just a bare stick of wood, he planted his feet, activated Haste, Empower, Heavy Blow, Mana Strengthening, and Sweep, and smashed forward with his pole, striking the front line in a broad blow, aiming to hit as many as possible.

Four people were knocked over, smashed to the side by the force of the blow, knocked off their feet. Although their stats might be much higher, most people hadn’t realized that their superior physical strength did nothing to increase their weight. It was quite easy to knock them up and helplessly away if they didn’t prepare for it. Randidly planted his feet and was ready to rush forward, but to his surprise, a figure stepped up in front of him, weapon raised. It was the dark skinned young man with the iron ball for a weapon that had rushed him earlier, at the beginning of the fight..

A Phantom Thrust blurred outward, striking the man in the nose. The cartilage of his nose shattered, blood spurting outward, and Randidly moved to step past him.

To Randidly’s surprise, a hand settled on his arm, gripping him tightly.

Randidly turned, eyes narrowing, to find that the iron-ball man had managed to latch onto him as he fell, holding desperately onto him. Another Sweep crushed the man into the ground, loosening his grip. But Randidly didn’t have the time, nor the stamina for this.

Most of the people knocked to the side were being healed, and several other squad members were moving closer. Worst of all, a tingling on Randidly’s neck warned him that Decklan was finally making his move.

Tsking lightly to himself, Randidly spoke. “Agony.”

The pain smashed downwards around him, and most people hesitated slightly, but not Decklan. His was a curved smile and blade, and he ripped closer, moving so quickly that Randidly wasn’t sure whether he could have kept up with him without a full stamina and mana pool.

But in this case, he didn’t need to.

He sparingly use a pinch of mana, using Root Manipulation to loop around an unsuspecting Decklan’s foot. The Killer responded well, instantly twisting, and pulling away, but Randidly already had a Phantom Thrust aiming for his chest.

“Righteous Bonds!” Donny yelled, and strange golden runes appeared in the air around Decklan. Ignoring it, Randidly struck with all the force he could muster, aiming to shatter several ribs. But although Decklan grunted and was thrown back, he didn’t appear to suffer any lasting damage.

A gasp did echo out behind him, and Randidly turned to see Donny covered in those same golden runes, clutching his chest.

‘Some sort of damage sharing, huh…?’ Randidly wondered idly. ‘Annoying.’

Abruptly, Randidly decided to try something strange.

Dropping Agony, Randidly stood casually, spinning his pole with the Raid Squad surrounding him. His grin was long and slow.

*****

Tykes smashed into the ground, almost stunned into unconsciousness by the force of the Ghosthound’s blow. But somehow he bit his tongue and stayed awake, managing to keep ahold of his trusty iron ball as well.

Groaning, he rolled on his side, and then weakly rolled back, and he felt some bones of his ribs shift.

Holy fucking shit, but the Ghosthound hit like a fucking truck.

Feeling slightly foolish, almost as if he was cheating, Tykes removed a health potion from his pocket and downed it. Instantly he felt better, able to breath again. He hacked out a wad of blood and tried to roll again, only to fall back, too tired.

He supposed he was knocked out of the battle anyway so…

As he lay there, listening to the clash of weapons, he just looked up at the blue sky hanging over them. Even if they won, if they lost… Tykes was happy. Donny would scold him for putting himself in such direct danger, but it was worth it. Tykes wanted to win. He wanted to feel like he helped them win.

So even though he was the only member of the Raid Party without a class, Tykes had thrown himself in harm’s way.

He had been one of the initial volunteers for Daniel’s skill program, and had been part of the second batch, with an indefinite timetable as NCCs. But Tykes didn’t mind. He liked Donnyton. Liked its simple, focused people, liked the endless food, even liked the constant presence of violence. That, at least, hadn’t changed in Tykes’ life, but now he was no longer on the receiving end.

Until now, that is.

Gritting his teeth, Tykes rolled over, looking towards the Ghosthound. He had struck Decklan, but the rest of the Raid Team was closing in on his position. All of a sudden, tall, thorny walls sprung up, about 2 meters tall, blocking off vision, isolating most of the squad.

“Retreat-!” Came Donny’s yell, but it was too late.

“Circle of Flame.”