Chapter 1517 (2/2)
“Me,” She replied simply. Then she folded her arms in a position that meant the conversation was over. While Benjamin and Charlotte sparred glanced for the stony exterior of Advisor Zauna, Raymund looked back below at the challenge. After the two obvious picks, Vizzeret listed off the names of three other Overseers that he didn’t recognize. They steadily trooped out to surround Vizzeret.
Helen grinned up at the sky, but her words were clearly meant for Vizzeret. “Are you ready? You should activate your image as much as you can. Because once things start, there is no turning back. The Ghosthound will come with the intent to kill you.”
Taking her advice seriously, Vizzeret shook his head and unleashed his image. He pawed the ground as he did so, revealing his nerves. A horde of gleaming golden-furred dogs manifested around him, surrounding him protectively. These spectral dogs raised their noses and sniffed the air, looking for danger.
“Unfortunately for that fool…” Zauna said quietly. “In an effort to make the challenge fairer, the Ghosthound will come without using his images. So any Perception Skill looking to catch the whiff of an image will be useless.”
Right after Vizzeret manifested his image, the five Overseers glanced at each other and then spread out to surround the grey dog at a distance of about eight meters. Each of them flared their own images to life, even the weakest of which dwarfed the dogs’ display, sending a thrill of pleasure through Raymund. That is until Helen unleashed the full extent of her image and the entire, several hundred-meter trench became a churning sea of crimson blood.
Even standing just at the edge of that sea applied so much pressure to Raymund’s body that he could barely move. Overseer Helen’s image was awe-inspiring. The crimson flows that lapped up against his feet felt so thick and real that a part of Raymund doubted this was an image. If he were to compare this effect to what he could accomplish with his nine-tailed fox…
This is why they say my image won’t cut it. Because my ethereal, eternal nine-tailed fox will never have the punch of this concrete existence…
From the side, Benjamin spoke toward Zauna. “Is the Ghosthound… truly this overwhelmingly strong? He does not even need his image to fight against us?”
“Just watch,” Advisor Zauna glanced over at Benjamin with her flinty eyes. “The common sense of the Nexus says that the Path to power lays directly through images. Randidly Ghosthound… does not believe that is the case. Or rather, he believes that the entire self is worth cultivating as you hone your edge. Now, watch closely or you will miss him as he arrives.”
At his Advisor’s words, Raymund rolled his shoulders and narrowed his gaze. While the tides of blood churned below, Raymund turned his face upward and looked for the brutal forthcoming blitzkrieg from the Ghosthound. Low clouds lay overhead, seeming to hint at the impending descent of a threat.
The wind traced its slow progress through the dusty Southern area, rubbing up against Raymund’s fur. Below, the golden hounds of Vizzeret flicked their ears back and forth. The five Overseers stared straight upward, seeming to sense something the rest of them did not.
...and nothing, in particular, seemed to happen.
Eventually, Advisor Salazar giggled. “You t-tease them too much, Zauna. You know the Ghosthound is going to make a show of it.”
As the lizardman Advisor spoke, the Ghosthound did indeed reveal himself purposefully. He came down slowly, floating through the air toward the exhibition area. The space around him bent and warped, making the descent extremely smooth. His person seemed to grip his surroundings so tightly that he could bend and twist them as he wished.
As one, all of the recruits looked at their Head Drill Sergeant and slowly began to frown. Because the form that floated downward to challenge the five Overseers and Vizzeret was not the complex and strangely harmonious horror that they had witnessed when he spoke for them. No, this form was entirely humanoid. His hair was black. Both his eyes were visibly, luminously emerald, although it did seem to Raymund that the left eye was slightly darker.
“Is that really the Ghosthound…?” Charlotte whispered.
“Just him when he’s about to show off,” Zauna huffed, but her eyes held a deep respect for the figure who alighted on the edge of the deep ditch. The Ghosthound was also much more casually dressed than he had been in his display before them earlier, wearing only a beaten pair of leather shorts and an angular grey chest armor. In his right hand was a long spear with flaring leaves along its shaft.
Watching the small movements spear, Raymund couldn’t help but blink. Randidly’s hands were still, but the weapon was undulating slowly; the spear was alive.
But the longer that Raymund watched the Head Drill Sergeant, the more he realized that there was one other particular detail about the man that floored him. After experiencing the training array for the past few hours, there was no way he would miss the unmistakable tang of Nether that covered the Ghosthound’s shoulders like a mantle. And in a quantity that left him petrified.
“How can he contain so much Nether within his body…?” Benjamin whispered.
Salazar pounded one of his hands softly against his chest, as though to clear some phlegm, before speaking. “Hum. The G-ghosthound is currently a near p-perfect replica of how much energy a Nether Gatekeeper has. That is the foe he wants to raise you to beat. In the grand s-s-scheme of the N-nether army, they are pretty common.”