Chapter 1299 (1/2)
Derek arrived at the meadow to which he had been directed to just with a few minutes to spare before the meeting. It was scheduled for two o’clock and the sky was high overhead as he glanced around at the meadow in question. He was surprised to find that he was the first one here, but he supposed that he shouldn’t let the positive outcomes in the other two meetings spoil him from the mundanities of the world. After all, most meetings were drawn out and torturous affairs-
But just as Derek settled in to wait for the arrival, the Ghosthound’s Riders began to slowly arrive. They were exactly one minute late. They were a fascinating group, riding slowly from the opposite direction Derek had come.
“Hello, my name is-” Derek began after the first dozen Riders rode their strange steeds into the clearing, but he was stopped as one cantered toward Derek and raised a hand to signal that he should wait. Then the Rider brought his finger to his lips. Around him, the other Riders began using their heavy lances to hack down the nearby trees.
Falling silent, Derek shrugged and settled down to watch the Rider’s activities. Because this was his last meeting of the day, he didn’t feel bothered to see that the Riders were doing some sort of preparation for the meeting. Besides, they made quick work of the surrounding vegetation do to their obvious power.
Honestly, Derek was more interested in studying the Riders and their mounts than teasing out their motives. As more and more Riders streamed into the enlarged clearing and continued to expand the open area, Derek realized that the Riders were not uniform at all. But with the press of bodies cutting down and towing away trees, it was hard to notice any defining characteristics amongst them.
There were a few traits that all of them possessed, however. The steeds were strange creatures with long legs covered in chitinous black armor. But the steeds came in several varieties. Every Rider appeared to be some sort of animated treant, but the type of tree and coloration of their foliage varied wildly. And each had a spear or lance, but the length and weight seemed made to match the steed.
At about half an hour after the meeting was supposed to start, some broader patterns started to emerge in the way they behaved that disturbed Derek. He abruptly realized that the Riders in front of him weren’t people, not truly. They were much closer to monsters or summoned creatures. Yet they displayed admirable intelligence and teamwork. If this was truly a type of summon, then that was one of the most overpowered Skills Derek had ever heard of.
But they were labeled as the Riders of the Ghosthound...
When sufficient space was cleared, the groups began to build various buildings in a loose semi-circle in front of Derek’s position. And during the construction, the mass of bodies split into their discrete cohorts.
Of the six groups that gradually revealed themselves, Derek first identified the two smallest. One group was a gaggle of Riders in what Derek finally realized was their ‘base’ state. The mount was a combination of a rhino, a spider, and a camel, creating an extremely gangly, long-legged mount that moved with surprising speed for its size. The other small group seemed to be a loose association solo individuals that clustered together, having evolved beyond the base version of themselves but not fitting into the four normal groups.
Derek saw one Rider amongst the individuals that appeared to have shifted toward aquatic combat, riding an extremely large, black alligator. Another sat on the back of a plastic-looking eagle the size of a small airplane.
The smaller groups had about twenty and ten individuals in them each, respectively. Which was practically negligible next to the one hundred that each of the larger four groups brought.
Three of the larger groups seemed to follow one of the original traits of the mounts and focused solely on that aspect. For example, one group rode what could only be a combination of a rhinoceros and a triceratops. The head was surrounded by a bone plate that flared outward and covered its vulnerable neck. Its legs were thick and powerful enough to shake the ground with each step. Rather than a true spear or lance, what these Riders carried was much closer to a heavy greatsword. They casually felled trees with a flick of the wrist as they build a primitive platform.
The second group focused on the camel side of the mount. If anything, this was the group that amused Derek the most. The limbs had been elongated even further, and each mount had two humps on its back. But slung across those backs were an entire armory’s worth of weapons that clanked noisily as the group hurried to make a pyramid.
The third group had followed the path of the spider. They were smaller and lighter than their fellows, but they more than made up for that in dexterity and agility. They easily surrounded trees and used teamwork to bring down the trees that were in their way. Their weapons were the most spear-like, but there was strange flexibility to the weapon that made Derek wonder about what materials were used. A delicate tent was erected by this group.
The final group probably had a score more than any of the others. And these Riders had apparently completely eschewed the evolution path of their mounts that others followed, instead riding proudly into the clearing on croaking toads that looked extremely ungraceful as they hopped around. Their weapons were serrated harpoons that made short work of the trees in their path. But rather than constructing anything, this group began digging a hole. And then another Rider came forward and used a Skill to fill it with water to create a muddy pool.
Finally, at about an hour past the time when the meeting was supposed to begin, the Riders all fell into neat rows and stood at attention, Relieved, Derek opened his mouth to speak but was stopped when the Rider on top of a black alligator shook his head imperceptibly.
Derek was grateful for the warning but was nearing the end of his patience. Still, he preferred not to rock the boat unless it was absolutely necessary. As he looked around, he was careful to gauge the group; none of these Riders present struck him as dangerously powerful. They were strong, definitely, with many as strong as he was. But when compared people like that woman Helen he had trained with yesterday…
Ten minutes later, Derek Moss had to eat his words as the leaders of the four largest groups came into the clearing. Each was just a bigger, tougher, more ominous version of the groups it represented, but each had enough of an image aura around them that Derek wouldn’t trust himself in a direct fight. Hell, he wouldn’t trust ten of himself.