Chapter 177 (2/2)
“What is that?” The male spear attendant asked, his expression twisted into annoyance. What was even more annoying was that Teliph and Helen continued to train stoically, frantically perfecting their own technique. Helen’s sensual movements continued without pause, her curvaceous body possessing more and more hidden power to the male spear attendant’s eyes.
Teliph continued to be a mystery. His strikes were direct and short; but the air seemed incredibly turbulent in the area around him.
Divveltian just snorted at the question, and rolled over. For a long time, they just stood there, the male spear attendant growing increasingly annoyed that no one was answering him. Finally, he received an answer, but it was from the new spear attendant, with the cloth tied around his eyes.
“He…. the Ghosthound is at the door of the Artisan level. Those ripples… those are his image, beginning to be visible to those not on the receiving end of the skill.”
The male spear attendant’s mouth formed into an O, but Divveltian was rolling over and snorting. “While technically true, don’t get ahead of yourself. Like I said to this spear idiot, it’s better to focus on skill level than the image. He, like you, is working on the image too early. Just he’s good at it. In terms of power…”
Divveltian’s face became thoughtful. “...perhaps he could pass the Artisan test, if he kept working on it. But It would be mostly in name, not in fact. He does not yet possess the skill in his movement and basic spear ability to equal any who are legitimate Artisans…. Probably.”
“Still worlds ahead of us.” Helen said, her voice strangely dark. The beautiful woman continued to frown as her body flowed and twisted.
Teliph nodded, and swiftly began training again. Doing his best to ignore the strange ripples, emanating from below, the male spear attendant began to train. But unfortunately… they continued to lightly press up against him, almost tickling him. The strange, light touch was too much to bare.
“God fucking damnit!” The male spear attendant yelled, throwing his spear to the ground. Helen giggled, which was gratifying, but both Divveltian and Teliph seemed content to ignore him. But what was even more humiliating was that at that moment, the ripples stopped.
The male spear attendant felt his heart grow cold. Had the Ghosthound heard…?
Sure enough, soon there was the sound of approaching footsteps on wood, and the Ghosthound climbed onto the deck, looking around. The male spear attendant was almost shivering, but kept his back straight. Although he might get punished for this, he wouldn’t back down. After all, in a way, it was very rude for the Ghosthound to create those ripples while people were trying to train. The male spear attendant would calmly explain the situation, and it would become clear that he wasn’t in the wrong.
After glancing around with a frown, the Ghosthound walked over towards the male spear attendant. “Hey, uh…. You.”
The male spear attendant prostrated himself on the ground. “Please forgive me, it was a small mistake, I won’t ever dare breath in front of you again!”
The Ghosthound just stared at him, seemingly dumbfounded. Then slowly, he looked at the others and said. “What’s up with him…?”
“He hasn’t developed a backbone, the little fucker.” Helen said sweetly, and then she winced, as if scared of something, and hurriedly threw herself back into training.
The male spear attendant peeked up, to check the Ghosthound’s reaction. After all, as with all things, the male spear attendant was profoundly gifted in subterfuge and misdirection, although he hadn’t yet fully developed his innate potential in those areas. But in terms of raw talent…
But the Ghosthound was just standing there, his eyes following the lines of Helen’s body as she trained. After a few seconds, he almost unwillingly dragged his eyes back to the male spear attendant.
“...Yes well, I just wanted to try a skill. You have a defensive skill you created, right?”
Slowly standing, the male spear attendant nodded. He picked up his spear and adopted a defensive stance, watching the Ghosthound nervously. The man removed a small bone spear from his ring and settled back, and then thrust.
Whereas before there had been only small ripples, now there was a constant ticking, a stream of low female laughter, almost hysterical at the edges, a strange, suffocating blackness, a sense of weakness and frustration, of overwhelming power, and the floating image of a smiling, almost apologetic woman as she floated closer with her arms spread wide.
It did not crush his Iron Bulwark, or rip through it, but rather just slid cleanly forward, moving through his defensive image like it wasn’t even there. It was heavy and inevitable, but when it struck the male spear attendant’s chest, it was simply a stiff jab, sending him several steps backwards.
All of the male spear attendant’s confidence deserted him, and he felt himself be seized by fear, and a growing relief.
A relief that he had started following this man before he had fully transformed into the monster that he would become.