Chapter 1685 (2/2)
Garrett couldn’t breathe; Randidly Ghosthound turned unhurriedly to look at him. He tilted his head to the side.
The voice of the Ghosthound was low and heavy. He seemed to swell to fill the entirety of Garret’s vision, blotting out the environment with the force of his presence. “What do you have in your watch, Garrett?”
Impossible… he can’t see- The Ghosthound’s ominous words shocked him back into wakefulness. Garret quickly checked the watch, as though he was expecting to find some corner of the darksteel bomb peeking out, revealing his intentions. Of course, he found no such evidence; the bomb was safely hidden within the interspatial pocket. The Ghosthound was obviously fishing for information.
Then the reality of what was currently happening hit Garrett; even if there were no evidence, was the Ghosthound the sort of individual that required justification for his actions…? Not here, not in the heart of Kharon, where the death of a character like him could easily be hidden from the public eye. So he hastily pulled out the one-and-a-half-meter-tall pinecone and gripped the detonator tightly in his raised left hand.
He tried to make himself sound confident as he announced his attentions. “If you take even a single step toward me-”
The detonator dropped out of hand and into a waiting root pocket. His fingers had been pried backward away from the small bit of metal by roots that had wound themselves up and around Garrett’s limbs before he even realized they were present. Despite struggling with all his Strength, the roots around him didn’t budge.
Even worse, the grip of the roots was steadily tightening. It was increasingly difficult for Garrett to breathe.
The root brought the detonator to the Ghosthound, who picked it up with two fingers, grimaced, the crushed it into scrap metal between his metallic fingers. Panicking, Garrett began to shout. “You… you’re a monster! Even if you kill me, don’t think the violence you’ve inflicted on this planet has been forgotten! Others might only think of you as a philanthropist, but I’ve seen how cold you’re heart is!”
“You’re right.” The Ghosthound agreed quietly. Then he walked forward and squatted next to the darksteel bomb, examining it closely.
If anything, Garrett was unnerved by the Ghosthound’s agreement. His mouth worked soundlessly, as though chewing this man’s acceptance until it made sense.
But quickly, purpose returned to Garrett’s expression.
Although his image had been weakened by remaining so close to the darksteel bomb for so long, he still had been trained all those years ago in the Order Ducis camp. And he had not given up in his progress since then; Garrett’s determination to pull back the facade of Randidly Ghosthound had kept him sharp. So despite the fact that he was physically bound, he gathered all of his Willpower to unleash a sharp strike mental strike at the distracted Ghosthound.
Just as a deck of self-shuffling cards manifested behind Garrett’s head, the Ghosthound looked up. One eye was emerald, the other was black. Those two colors arrested him completely. “Erode Image.”
Garrett howled and then groaned from the pain of his mind shattering. The only reason that he remained standing was the support of those very same roots were tightening around him. For a second his consciousness was foggy, but steadily Garrett was lured back to wakefulness by the Ghosthound’s face.
“...though you’re right. Only recently… I’ve realized that people on Expira have spent so long staring after my back that they haven’t realized the sort of expression I make toward the foes in front of me: the oppressive monsters in the Nexus.” Through his swimming vision, Garrett saw the Ghosthound reach out and pluck off one of the heavy darksteel plates as though he was tugging off a yellow wildflower petal. “And that expression… is certainly chilly. It’s had to be. Anything less will get me killed.”
“Your… hands are… soaked in blood…” Garrett tried to spit out his words, but they simply dribbled past his lips and down his immobilized body.
The Ghosthound nodded easily enough, but Garrett didn’t miss that tight and stark lines of his frigid expression. “Well, enough about me. Do you have any idea about why darksteel damages certain images?”
“It damages… all images…” Garrett mumbled. Now that the Ghosthound had brought his attention to it, he could sense the way that the aura of the darksteel was seeping into his shattered image and steadily erasing his years of work. But he was so weak and off-balance that he couldn’t even muster the slightest resistance. Everything drained away, leaving Garrett empty.
“Incorrect.” The Ghosthound said. He raised his hand and waves of inky energy seeped outward, surrounding the darksteel bomb. Abruptly, the pressure on Garrett’s image was gone; the Ghosthound had somehow isolated the darksteel bomb. “What darksteel does is interfere with connections between images. The truth is, most people haven’t thought too deeply about their own images. Some very vital details of those images are borrowed from some sort of collective unconscious… so being deprived of those connections immediately weakens those images.
“Think of it this way: on Expira, the average person has an image that’s the equivalent of a toddler. Of course, you would suffer if you were cut off from your parents.” The Ghosthound stood and brushed off his knees. “But to a fully grown image…? Darksteel is just a tool, like everything else. Thank you for the gift. It’s a fun toy. But for what you intended to do to my city…”
Suddenly, the being in front of him shifted. The bone structure was alien. The sneer on its face was cruel. Even in all of his wild suspicions about the Ghosthound, Garrett had not expected to encounter such a baleful expression. It was an expression that didn't carry the slightest hint of remorse. Those inhuman lips curled upward to reveal teeth. ”Did you think I would kill you...? Truly, this world just doesn't understand the horror of the Nexus... my back has screened them from too much. Goodbye, Garrett. Erode Image.”
Garrett trembled and collapsed into unconsciousness.