Chapter 253 (2/2)

“Fast forward to now, of the 4 original Styles, one has gone extinct, while mine, the Sleeping Moon Style, is basically on its last legs, with all its hopes on me. The Steel Feather Style is still strong, but Bertarn’s Toppling Mountain Style has not had someone inherit the full Skill Set in 100 years. With more and more Styles sending feelers from the Central Region up here, sensing weakness, the heads decided better the enemy they know. So they want to bind the still very powerful Breaking Dawn Style to them through marriage, through me.”

Randidly scratched his chin.

“Which, of course, will be irrelevant when you make Drak Wyrd reveal his cards, and I defeat him, demonstrating that enlisting their aid is pointless,” Azriel said so dismissively that Randidly had to chuckle. She glared at him. “Now…. you’ve had enough time, let’s go again.”

Randidly groaned as he stood.

****

Claptrap wandered the streets, confused and angry at himself. After he had told Ciel his opinion on her chances, she had become extremely sad and bitter. Very soon after, she had left. In his heart, Claptrap didn’t want to apologize for speaking what he still believed was the truth, but there was no doubt in his mind that he also wished… the night had ended differently.

He wasn’t sure how, and didn’t want to think about it too much, but…

That hot jealousy, that envy and bitterness, the negative emotions, and a new fear that he would be discovered as just an individual who stole from the Ghosthound, riding his coattails, choked him, preventing any words from passing his lips as Claptrap left the bar and began to wander. It seemed to harden in his chest, becoming a hot core of negative that pulsed, dragging him onward.

As long as he carried this in his chest… he couldn’t rest, he couldn’t sit down, he could only wander, looking for something. Some way to escape it. Some way to not disappoint this woman he had loved, and who now saw him as an example to emulate. The irony crushed him, grinding down his hope.

So Claptrap continued his unsteady steps, following the dark pulses from his chest, seeking an answer. It would be a very long night for him.

****

The male spear attendant stood next to Helen, as they both moved through the forms, watching her out of the corner of his eye. Although it was good for training his image, it was not enjoyable to have her catch him checking her out and be beaten within an inch of his life. Which she had done, multiple times.

Deciding to focus, the male spear attendant had thrown everything into his defense, abandoning any thoughts of actually beating Helen in a fight, but at least hoping he could endure through her attacks. But she defied his expectations yet again, growing with leaps and bounds, becoming stronger every day, faster than the male spear attendant could cope with.

He wasn’t sure when it had started, but this growth was a relatively recent thing. Since the start of the tournament. There were even moments when the male spear attendant caught Helen looking at her hands, seemingly in shock herself at the speed of her growth. Which just confused the male spear attendant even more.

Where had this come from?

“Like what you see?” Helen said, twisting around in a way that made her chest flop back and forth, but still the male spear attendant winced.

Busted.

But suddenly he was struck by inspiration. She often became so pissed when he denied it, what if…?

“Yea, I do.” The male spear attendant said, flashing Helen his most charming smile. Perhaps he had been going about this all wrong-

Helen’s mouth transformed into a flat line, and her eyes were dead and empty as she stared at him. The male spear attendant sighed. It was worth a try.