Chapter 763 (2/2)

Eventually, Merta led Randidly to a group of tents that was surrounded by a very basic barricade. Wooden poles had been sharpened and stabbed into the ground. Several muscled and scarred men and women who were lounging by the opening in the barricade perked up when the group approached.

“Merta! You survived!” A tall man said. He had a warm smile as he walked out from the gate toward the group. His skin was light orange and there was a closed eye in the middle of his forehead. “We feared… well, we heard the news about the Wight horde. Did you manage to bring water?

“Yes, I think we would all know what you brought back for the group.”

Everyone turned to look at an ugly looking man that walked out of a large tent erected outside of the barricade. A jagged scar cut off a chunk of his nose and left his mouth lopsided. Even though the expression was grotesque enough to mask some of the emotion, Randidly could tell the man was smiling with ill intent toward the new arrivals.

The tall man flushed. “Darrune. Leave us. This is not your business.”

“Now, now, now,” Darrune said, sidling over. “Aren’t I protecting your section by placing myself here? I’m a deterrent. Have you not all benefited from the meat that I bring? I just ask for a little water for the invaluable service I provide. Perhaps five barrels.”

“Five barrels-!” Merta spluttered, barely able to believe the number. Randidly felt a headache coming on.

“Darrune, without that water, the children-” But the tall man abruptly fell silent. His eyes went wide. The same thing happened to most everyone in the group, including Darrune. They all stared slack-jawed at Randidly.

The only person who didn’t react with shock was Merta. But Randidly could sense her trembling.

All Randidly had done was raise a finger and point. But in that casual gesture, he had focused on the image of overwhelming Sharpness. An edge that could split a hair and the hardest steel just as easily. A spearhead that could pierce through an entire world. A grasping jade claw that would treat metal like paper.

The image slid silently forward, digging a long trench across the ground. There were probably twenty meters of space between Randidly and Darrune. With a wicked glee, that image ripped a deep gash in the ground that extended for nineteen and a half of those meters.

As the image approached, Darrune emitted a choked cry and fell backward. It was only when the image ran out of steam and hissed to a halt that anyone dared move. Everyone's eyes traced the long rip that Randidly had so casually torn in the land. The groove was deep and even. Chillingly so.

In his mind, all Randidly could think about was how many people that sea of Wights had killed. And in the face of that heavy number, he had no patience for these political squabbles. And also no time to indulge them.

When someone finally found the voice to speak, it was only one word.

“...Pontiff…!”

Frowning, Randidly carefully looked around at the surrounding people. “I don’t have time for this. Merta, bring me to a cooking fire.”

“Ah, yes, Sir Ghosthound,” Merta said, hurrying past Darrune and into the barricade. Darrune just stared blankly at Randidly, until the scarred man realized that Randidly had turned his way. And then he scrambled up and scampered back to his tent.

Sighing, Randidly followed after Merta. Frustrating and worrisome, this night had been. Although the sun hadn’t yet risen, the Eastern sky was beginning to brighten. The entire night had been taken up escorting these people. If he got a good meal it wouldn’t be a total waste, but it still made him somewhat nervous that he didn't’ know what was going on in Hastam. Even the tournament took a backseat to the looming threat of extinction at the hands of the Wights.

Perhaps not more important than that, but there was something else Randidly needed to do while he had a moment. If he let himself get swept up, he would always make excuses to avoid it. And this was a promise that Randidly had made to himself; tonight, he would check in on his Soulskill. Which was exactly what he intended to do. The benefit of such a visit was that the time difference would mean that it would only take him a few minutes to check in on all the people he was curious about.

In that time, Randidly hoped he could get a pulse on the world within him.

After receiving a bowl of thick stew and wolfing it down, Randidly found a quiet tent in which to sit. Then, with a light breath, he slipped into himself, to find out just how much had changed with his Steps of the Godling II Path.