Chapter 232 (2/2)

“So. What do you wish to discuss?”

Claptrap’s smile was wide and guileless.

****

Randidly looked at the board critically. His would be the third match, which was tentatively scheduled for an hour from now. As Azriel promised, his opponent would be Bertarn, the muscle bound fool he had clashed with in the preliminaries.

For now, another speech was occurring, by Aethon Thai again, extolling the virtues and strengths of the younger generation, and encouraging them to do their best to succeed here at the tournament, and then further on in their lives, leading the Northern Regional to an era of prosperity.

Absolute drivel.

Randidly was originally planning to spend his free time meditating and using his newfound Living Blood Skill, but a tap on his shoulder distracted him. He turned to find a well dressed, unassuming man standing beside him, a small smile on the man’s face.

“Aiden Darke, pleasure to meet you sir.” The man said.

Randidly raised his eyebrows. Was this perhaps a groupie…? He supposed that he was a participant not affiliated with the big Styles, which apparently made the sales of his commemorative mugs that Claptrap was producing one of the highest, but still… this was moving a little too fast.

Unsure of what to do, Randidly turned away and studiously began listening to the speech. Anything was better than interacting with this random guy…

“You looked directly at my face. You're not deaf. You know I’m here. Be polite and answer me.”

Rather than annoyed, this strange groupie who called himself Aiden seemed amused. He began to poke Randidly’s shoulder. Randidly’s countenance became stormy, and he scooted slightly to the side.

He wasn’t unwilling, it just seemed profoundly silly for him to get up and move away from this little pest due to pokes. Surely his Endurance was high enough to weather this storm of annoying…?

But contrary to his earlier assumptions, the man’s pokes had an incredible amount of force, and the strike each time made Randidly shudder and grit his teeth. How was this random idiot doing this…?

Spinning quickly, Randidly lashed out with his arm to knock Aiden’s hand away, but to his surprise, Aiden reacted quickly, his hand twisting and grabbing Randidly’s arm, holding it still. Randidly flexed his muscles, but couldn’t manage to move. A thin smile was on Aiden’s face.

“Do I have your attention now, Mr. Ghosthound?”

Randidly felt a rapidly growing sense of danger emerge from his chest. Aether began to flow and revolve through his body, rising his senses to the maximum levels. Even then, he refrained from activating his skills, but he was unable to even get the grip to waiver. This wasn’t a small difference of strength.

Instantly, Randidly become serious, finally looking at the unassuming man in the eye. This wasn’t a level of strength that could be faked, or reached through levels such as Artisan or Adept. This was the level of someone who had vastly superior stats. Randidly had forgotten, but this tournament was restricted to those below the Level of 25. Beyond that level lay monsters far, far above the level he was currently fighting.

Although not all of them had even reached the Artisan level, as long as they had higher quality Class Skills and large amounts of stats, they could easily overcome young geniuses who could condense their images.

“Good, I finally have your attention.” Aiden Darke said with relish, releasing Randidly’s hand. “I’m just here to gather a little bit of information, no need to worry. As I said previously, my name is Aiden Darke… I belong to the Engraving Guild.”