Chapter 224 (2/2)

“This… may be the final round of the qualifier. Based on our current numbers, we will have a few less than 40 fighters remaining after this next match should things… ah… go as we predict them. If we are above 32 individuals, we shall have the 4th round, just for the individuals who have 2 losses. Based on how many spaces we need, those of you who… have performed the best, will be given a bye.”

The bearded referee eyed the crowd. “After that, there will be a day of rest, before the tournament will begin. Do your best out there. And even if your performance isn’t what you hoped for… all of you here should still be proud of yourself. You are the next generation of spear users. You are the hope in the face of the rising Calamity. Do not be too hard on yourself. Train, and gain experience, and soon you will undoubtedly surpass your peers who had more luck early on in their careers.”

For some reason, it seemed that the bearded man was looking directly at Randidly as he said this last line. Then, with great care, he raised his scroll and read two names, the first two who would fight first, on the first stage.

“Drak Wyrd. Randidly Ghosthound.”

Randidly perked up, not just because of his name, but because he recognized the other name. His eyes narrowed into slits. This...

This opponent was the one that even the seeded fighters whispered about in fear. The man who most believed would win the tournament without effort.

Drak Wyrd.

They stood as one, and their eyes met. Randidly was slightly taller than the opposite man, but was slightly more slender, while the other was covered in thick slabs of muscles. Drak’s head was shaven, and his expression was mild.

Drak nodded, and began to walk towards the stairs. Frowning, Randidly moved opposite him. But to his surprise, a person appeared, not in front of him, but in front of Drak.

Azriel, her blood red eyes and silver hair glaring daggers at Drak. The two stopped, and Randidly slowed, confused. Drak and Azriel quietly exchanged a few words, and then parted. Afterwards, Azriel turned and looked at Randidly, smiling at him in the way the creepy kid smiles at the pets of strangers.

Randidly shivered, and hurried up onto the stage.

The referee standing there looked at them both. “Are the fighters ready?”

When they came face to face, on the stage, it was clear to Randidly that this opponent was strong. His eyes were a dark mahogany, a slippery, chocolate darkness. He wasn’t particularly handsome, or refined, or arrogant looking, like Randidly would have associated with the number one favorite to win the tournament.

He just seemed grounded, and self-assured, which was somehow a thousand times more intimidating.

But then Drak opened his mouth, and spoke. “I concede.”

****

The Yeti’s bushy brows were furrowed. He had sent his entire force out in front of him, leaving the prison, hoping to clear a path. But when he left the portal, with the last of his forces, he found… his connection to the others had been wiped out.

They had been defeated.

There were no bodies. There was only a woman, with long, light purple hair, clad in a thin white robe. She smiled at him, almost eager, her smile inviting. The Yeti’s heart grew cold.

“You… do you dare interfere in the execution of Judgement?”

“Yes.” Her answer was simple, but her voice was breathy and damp, like a breeze coming out of a cavern.

The Yeti raised his hammers, the gold engravings flashing. “Then accept that same fate.”

As he charged towards her, time seemed to slow. She laughed coquettishly, then curtsied. “My name is Lucretia. It is very nice to meet you. Now be a doll, and give me your Aether, won’t you?”