Chapter 421 (2/2)

The Ghosthound coughed lightly, and Ptolemy froze. Looking down, he realized that there was nothing in his hands, and he was just miming pouring batter into the trays. He must have set his bowl down without noticing, that was how intently he was going about the task.

Or...was there something sinister about this…?

There was a thick fog over Ptolemy’s mind, he abruptly realized, covering his thoughts, guiding them. But the more he thought about it-

The air seemed to be filled with an emerald pulse at that moment, a breeze of pure air that blew through that deep dungeon, but instead of shivering, Ptolemy clung to it, his eyes narrowing. What was going on…? Was Aratta-

Aratta shrugged apologetically, her robes rustling, the ripped cloth over her eyes pointing towards the Ghosthound. “It is not even a conscious thing, it is simply in my nature.”

“And what sort of nature is that?” The Ghosthound hissed in response, his hands tightening into fists. Aratta’s smile widened.

Ptolemy believed it would have come to blows there, had not a notification popped up through the group chat.

Rose: GH, we need you up here. The villagers are leaving. All of them.

The Ghosthound stilled. Then he turned and looked at Aratta, his eyes once more measuring her, burning into her, seeking. But whatever he saw there was not what he expected, and not what he wanted. Sighing, the Ghosthound closed his eyes. The room turned silent, and in that silence, Aratta gestured at Ptolemy, and he reflexively began moving the 10 trays they had made into the ovens on the far wall.

This time, he had counted the tasks before he began, and so when he finished the 10th tray, and he saw dozens more arranged on the tables, he paused, some silent part of him insisting that he shouldn’t bother with them. He struggled against it, but the current him had the will of a wet noodle, and the other part was like iron.

Just that thought alone was enough to cause Ptolemy to frown. When was the last time that he had thought of his will as a wet noodle? Not since the System arrived, that was for sure-

“Fine. But I can find you.” The Ghosthound said, opening his eyes, his voice calm.

Aratta smiled back at him. “That’s all part of the plan, love.”

*****

Still panting from the sparring session, Ace watched the departing villagers with narrowed eyes. There was something… strange about this. And it wasn’t his normal instincts screaming this, but his villainous instincts. This was too quick, the progression erratic. They should have either been lured into a false sense of security, or there should have been a growing sense of dread as they stayed at the village.

Aside from the always practical explosive bang, those were the two slow ways that villainy revealed itself to the world. And yet….

Ace’s instincts insisted there was a villain here. But this abrupt departure stunk of an amateur villain, with no training, or class. His hands tightening into fists, Ace swore to himself that he would find this half-baked plot and crush it. Perhaps, from the remnants, he could cobble together a scheme of his own, that will let him have the cake of being here in the Dungeon, and eat his Randidly too…

Making no moves to hide his malevolent grin, Ace turned and glanced at Rose. She was distancing herself from him, purposefully, of course, speaking with the rather intense Clarissa, discussing the application of Skills to induce the creation of Resistance Skills. It was heavy, violent stuff, and did nothing to dispel Ace’s good mood. They were both more intelligent than most everyone around them knew, and both almost compulsively interested in magic and Skills.

From this, a friendship developed. Perhaps even a relationship that was so close that in the future, when Ace gave a fiendish order, Rose would waiver, feeling conflicted based on her feelings for Clarissa. Everything according to plan.

Humming softly, Ace waltzed over to the rest of the group as Randidly, glowering and stormy, arrived to witness the strange movements of the villagers.