Chapter 221 (2/2)

“That-that…. A full gold…. How can you…. The money…” The crone stammered, peering at the different drawings.

Claptrap just smiled.

It took a while, but the crone calmed down, and began speaking to Claptrap much more deferentially. This was more business than she had ever done at one time in the past, more than they had done in the last year. It was a matter of scale of their organization.

But Claptrap offered to provide some of the funds up front, pushing them to expand their organization.

Right before she left, the crone gazed down at the drawings, seemingly stuck on something.

“Is there a problem?”

“Well no, but… I recognize these other Styles, but this one… I’ve never heard of it before… and it is supposed to be emerald? Isn’t that a bit… I wouldn’t want such a valued customer to waste all this effort, if this no name spear user is eliminated before the final tournament….”

Claptrap laughed. “In terms of bets… rest assured, he is the safest one I have made. It has been a pleasure, but I really must be going. Other preparations to see to, you understand. Feel free to see yourself out. I’ll send someone over at noon to see how the production is proceeding.”

******

Helen breathed in through her nose and out through her mouth, focusing on her form. She felt it, the strange strength and undulations of her river, flowing through her body, filling her moves with sharpness and strength. It was a power that filled her with a heady rush.

Part of her sudden improvement was the small bit of Aether she seemed to have gotten from the Ghosthound when they… uh…. made their exchange, but the other half was being able to watch so many high level matches. The passes that Claptrap obtained as de facto food and ale sponsor for the event allowed Helen to proceed into the very well situated sections, giving her an unrivaled view of the action. It was oddly intoxicating, being so close to those who she had once considered so far away. If her family could see her now.

“Helen.”

She positively jumped, surprised by the interruption. Very few people came up onto the roof area for training in the mornnig, especially since the Regional Tournament had started. She turned to find Randidly, walking calmly towards her. Instead of his typical large obsidian spear, he had a slim one of bone.

“Yea?” She said, trying her best to not show her annoyance and make him want to crawl away into a corner and die with a glare. Ultimately, these two goals effectively canceled each other, and Randidly walked closer, a thoughtful expression on his face.

“Can we spar? I’d like to try something.”

Helen bit back a snarky retort and nodded, adjusting her stance to face him. It would be good, she reflected to herself, to work out some of her annoyance and attraction and extra energy, all at once, by smashing his face in. Helen knew that he had gotten stronger, and his spells put him on a level where she couldn’t defeat him, but if they relied solely on spear skills… with her increase in power…

But as he walked towards her, the air seemed to quiet and then go dark. He was relaxed, but there was a baleful aura of death that hung around him, rooting her to the ground. Slowly, a smile crossed his face, and Helen shivered. A strange ticking filled the air, and she felt dread settle down around her shoulders.

This… this….

His eyes glowed a devilish emerald.

This was the Ghosthound.