Chapter 193 (1/2)

The male spear attendant folded his arms across his chest, annoyed at this whole proposition. Sure, the Ghosthound had given him an occasional pointer. Sure, the Ghosthound had managed to get the better of him in their initial meeting. Sure, he was now the Ghosthound’s spear attendant.

That didn’t mean he appreciated being treated like a cheerleader. He was a powerful spear user, with burgeoning potential!

But Teliph was able to weasel his way out of sitting here in the viewing area due to his claimed “Aether Sickness”, which the male spear attendant suspected was simply a way to get a few more minutes of training in. Obviously, the fool was spineless, but smart enough to realize that with the rate the male spear attendant was improving, it would only be a matter of time before he surpassed him. The man’s fear was natural.

Much more annoying was Helen’s reasoning, which was that she was approached by far too many men as she sat politely in the stands. These men brought with them mugs of mead and smiles, asking her which of the Styles that she was supporting. By the end of it, she simply scowled and stomped off furiously, saying that she would be back soon. It had been 20 minutes, and she had not returned. The male spear attendant wondered whether she had taken the time to beat the shit out of some poor fellow who had the bad luck to try and strike up a conversation while she was in a bad mood.

The male spear attendant shivered. Perhaps it was better that she wasn’t here.

Movement on the display area caught the male spear attendant’s attention, and his eyes focused. The stands were set up in front of an arena setting, but now, the arena was clearly empty. This would likely be used for matches later, but for now, there were 20 numbered poles hanging across the area. And from those poles, the attendants began to hang Tassles. The male spear attendant watched the group move quickly, very soon draping 40 or so Tassles over each pole.

A lot of them were a similar color that could be seen in the sky during sunset. From oranges, to bloody reds, to warm yellows. There were some clear, bright blues, and some neon lime greens, but there was definitely one Tassle that was very eye catching.

What made the male spear attendant worried was that it wasn’t even the Ghosthound’s. It was a lavender color, flapping lightly on the 14 pole. There was a muttering in the crowd around him as it came up; they too realized what it meant. That someone who was related to the Patriarch’s Style, the leader of the entire Spearman School, was here.

Afterwards, the crowd went silent, because immediately afterwards, the Ghosthound’s emerald Tassle, bright and bold with its gold lettering, was hung. For several seconds, the silence lasted, as people looked from one to the other, and the male spear attendant could almost hear the gears turning in their heads. Was this a coincidence, or….?

A rivalry of geniuses coming out to the Northern Region to play.

Of course, they would likely be slightly shocked when they saw the Ghosthound. He was clearly… if not a foreigner, a social imbecile. Alternatively muttering and strangely mute, powerful but laid back, never wearing shoes but taking exceptional care with his shirts and pants.

Very soon, the attendants were finished, and they straightened. A man came to the front and opened his mouth, and began to explain the rules of the “Tarnak” Challenge that would be the first half of the preliminaries.

****

“Alright you on this one, and you on this one…. Alright, that’s all of you.” The short, female attendant clapped her hands. Randidly stood on a small raised square platform with his arms folded. He felt it bounce lightly as he shifted his weight, a strange mechanism beneath him clicking slightly.

All of the spear users were on similar squares, making a strange checkerboard style set up. Everyone was glancing around at those nearest, holding their spears lightly, still prepared to leap forward to battle. But Randidly could only frown. There was something…

“This… will be the Challenge of Tarnak. I hope you are all prepared,” The female attendant said with relish, and quite a few of the participants gasped, looking up with wide eyes at the low ceiling above them. Randidly simply sighed inwardly.

What the hell was Tarnak…?

“You might be wondering about why we asked about your strength. That is because the weight you will be bearing is the weight for all of you; it is measured based on the strength you gave. If everyone is honest… it is theoretically possible to hold the weight up indefinitely, should you be able to squeeze every ounce of strength out of your bodies.

“There are three ways to pass the challenge of Tarnak. The first is to bear a weight that is 20% over what would be expected in a normal strength motion, given the strength value that you had given to us. The squares beneath you include scales. If you bear enough weight, the scale will record it, and you will be excused. The weight allotted to you would also be removed.

“The second way is to be one of the last 20% of the participants who are still within the trial. Afterwards, you may bow out or continue to experience the challenge.