ebookland Chapter 693 - 612
Chapter 693 - 612
Grandmaster, Ruler of Sakaar POV
"What am I looking at?" I gestured to the screen.
Everyone was silent.
"Someone, anyone. Tell me what I’m looking at."
"A corpse, sir." One brave soul answered.
"Someone slap him," I said immediately.
The crisp sound was pleasant and made me less angry.
"Yes, gentleman. And Ladies. That is a corpse. That is the corpse of our champion to be." What was his name again, Groth? Simple, rustic even. He would have made a lot of money. Barbaric with a heart of gold. Or something like that; I forgot about his background. "How much effort did we spend on building him up? Advertisements, marketing, action figures!"
"We didn’t spend money on any of that, sir." Topaz answered.
I snapped my fingers at her. "I don’t need your lip right now, Topaz. It’s the principal of the matter!"
I sat down and contemplated what this meant. The loss of revenue was going to be immense. We haven’t had a proper champion in over three years, and it was starting to affect our ratings.
"Topaz, what is our rating this month?"
"Across which sectors, sir?"
Anyone, all. Summarize for me." I waved it off.
"We’re down 12% if we average everything together." She replied.
"12%," I said, repeating it again. "12!" It made me throw my hands up. "Do you have any idea how much 12% is, Topaz?"
"More than 11, less than 13, sir."
I loved her snark, even if it annoyed me sometimes. What’s life without a little bit of annoyance? I’m far too old to get angry at that sort of thing anymore; if anything, it’s a fun breath of fresh air when everyone else just rightfully kisses my toes.
"Exactly, Topaz." I looked at everyone else. "You all hear that? More than 11, less than 13!"
They all nodded like it was some profound revelation.
"Lowest ratings in over three thousand years, and we just lost our champion." I threw my hands up. "People, people, people!" I clapped my hands three times. "Let me spell it out for you. Fewer ratings mean less money, and less money means...well, less money. And we all like money, don’t we?"
And the One above knows I have far too many debts right now.
"Topaz, remind me. What’s our primary export from our beautiful planet."
"We don’t have any exports, sir. We only provide gladiator matches and broadcast them to the universe for a fee." She said in her usual monotone.
"Same thing, really," gestured annoyedly. "Our only export is violence! But just violence doesn’t sell. We need a story, we need personality, we need grandeur. We need a champion!" I picked up my glass of wine and threw it across the room. "And we’re our champion to be now!?" I yelled at them, finally losing my calm.
"Dead, sir," Topaz answered.
"Dead! Dead, dead, dead." I flopped back onto my seat. "Why is our anticipated champion dead, Topaz?"
"He was weak, sir."
"Weak," I breathed out. "Well, you’re not wrong. Compared to our stars in the past...." I let out a sigh. "Tell me the truth, Topaz. Is our golden age over? Are we swirling the drain for content?"
"Yes."
"Lie to me, Topaz."
"No sir, we can turn things around."
"You have a way with words, Topaz." I perked up, looking out my window at the massive faces, the monuments to my success. Sure, they were the faces of the previous champions, but who cares about them? "Beta-Ray Bill, Bi-Beast, Dark-Crawler, Ares!" I repeated their names out loud. "We had an Olympian god fight in our arena, Topaz! It was the highest-rated series of matches in history!"
Of course, he participated as a mortal, or it would be boring.
"He even came here willingly, Topaz! He came to fight; he came to claim the championship. A championship that used to mean something! When was the last time we had fighters coming to Sakaar willingly?"
Well, never.
Ares had a few screws loose in his head.
"We need to quickly plug this hole. We need something to draw more viewers." I finally spoke.
Because my payment to the collector was coming due soon and I spent all the savings I had.
"Suggestions, people!" I clapped my hands again. "How are we going to dig ourselves out of this pit?"
"We could give them better weapons, sir?" One of the ones behind me raised their hand.
I didn’t remember his name either.
"What’s your name?" I pointed at him.
"Y-Yoran –"
"Yoran." Simple and easy to remember. "Not a bad suggestion. See people, we need to think outside the box. Be more like Yolan here.
Though, the last time I let the fighters have more advanced weapons, they staged a rebellion pretty quickly, thinking that was enough to overthrow me.
How long ago was that? A million years?
I had to stick to primitive tools because the rebellions were just nonstop. Sure, it’s fun and satisfying when they finally get through my ’guards’ and find me at the top of my tower, only to discover that their little toys can’t do anything to me.
But when it happens every other year, it can get tiresome.
And the ratings were horrible!
When they keep rebelling, there’s no time to plan fights.
Though, maybe I should encourage a rebellion again. It’s been a while, and I sort of miss the excitement as everyone secretly tries to maneuver without my knowledge.
How many of my people will betray me?
I’ll shelve that for now; I actually need them to do the legwork.
"Sir, what about inviting previous champions back for a champion match?" One of my people suggested.
I didn’t recognize him either.
Or did I? He was somewhat familiar, but I couldn’t be bothered to remember all their names. I usually only remember them by their haircuts and give them a rating from one to ten based on that.
"A champion vs. champion match?" I played with the words as they left my mouth. "That’s not a bad idea either."
It would definitely bring in a lot of view, and we could charge a premium. If I could manage to get that old Kree Champ back here for another match, that would practically guarantee the entirety of Kree space would tune in.
That alone would be enough to pay my current debts, probably.
Maybe.
But that’s also only a stop-gap measure.
Not that we don’t need one of those now.
We just need to plug the whole for the short term while we build up a new champion to parade around.
"What else do you guys have?" Okay, okay. They weren’t just idiots then; I can work with this. Maybe I’ll hold off on encouraging a rebellion because it’s hard to find minions that can actually give good ideas.
"We could throw all our fighters at the problem." Topaz casually suggested killing off all our fighters. "Numbers can make up the difference."
I considered that too.
I wasn’t mad that Groth died; I was mad that he died without squeezing out his value!
If one of my fighters dies, I expect it to be a good death!
Just throwing all my fighters to the grinder for some half-hearted cheers felt like a loss. It could work, but let’s leave that as a last resort.
If we do something like that too many times, it could have people start questioning the honesty of my fighting pits!
We have to at least make our viewers think that all the fighters have a chance, as small as it actually is. If there’s no chance for their ’freedom,’ then it would make the rare occasions where we let someone get through less genuine and exciting.
"We’ll hold off on doing a meat grinder. But we have to have at least a few worthy fighters, right? I want strength, I want grit, I want pizazz." I wiggled my fingers in the air. "They don’t have to be champion level, but show me some fighters that can put on a good show. Show me what’s happening in our lower pits. I remember we had a few that were about to climb up to the big time. Where are they?"
Topaz stepped forward and messed with her data pad. "Do you want videos, or just pictures?"
"Either or, or both." I waved it off. "Whatever you think is important."
"Here’s Aquamarine." She said emotionlessly.
"She’s purple," I deadpanned.
"Quite."
I shook my head. "Let me see what we’re working with."
It showed a woman with the same characteristics as a significant portion of the universe. No doubt coming from a Celestial Egg World of some kind. There was a short clip of her expertly beheading several of our little pet canines in quick succession.
"Elegant, precise, sexy." I snapped my fingers. "Sign her up. Also, ask her if she wants to take a trip on my pleasure ship. Next."
There was another, some four-armed titan of a creature. "Oh, is that one of those—" What was the species called again? "Tullens! Right it’s, Tullens. Big nasty things, very strong."
"Yes, Sir."
"Great, add him there too." Big dumb brutes are always loved. "We’ll do a big exhibition match. It doesn’t need to be a championship. Championships are old news. The people will want to see the up-and-comers, the fresh blood. A little finesse, and we might even be able to get by without killing any of the popular ones. We can prop it up as future grudge matches!"
I knew it; I can only rely on myself.
It’s a good idea, if I do say so myself.
A brilliant idea even.
"Quick, show me some more while I’m on a roll." I gestured at Topaz to continue. Gotta strike while the iron is hot; my brain is on fire right now.
"Qon –"
"Nice muscles, sculpted like a bronze god; toss him in." I barely even spared a glance. Good looks can be just as good as fighting prowess. People loved to see a good fighter, but they also loved to see a good-looking person get their face smashed in.
"Insectoid, Vernat."
An insectoid, rare, good! About as large as a person, with four arms and an armored body.
"Exotic, I like it."
"Big Bert." The next video showed a man... No, that was no man.
"I think I’m in love." I clutched my heart. "Sign her up immediately. That woman is going to make me an honest man."
She had to be at least a thousand standard units.
She made the arena tremble with every step, and by whatever cosmic gods are watching, she could break out into a sprint.
Beautiful.
"Next, next."
"That’s it, sir."
"That’s it!?" I couldn’t believe my ears. "How many fighting pits do we have?"
"Twenty Four."
"It was rhetorical, Topaz." I know how many fighting pits we have. "We can’t only have that many? We need new faces; we can’t just toss in our known fighters! Come on, Topaz, stop holding back on me."
"We had six more on route to the grand arena, but they died in their last match before qualifying."
I let out a long sigh. "The universe just hates me, doesn’t it? Who was responsible for keeping watch on them? Come on, people, rigging the fight isn’t shameful, but we need a steady stream of fighters moving up ranks. Show me their deaths; if I see anything particularly troublesome, someone’s getting the melty stick."
Topaz’s eyes lit up as soon as I said that.
She sure does love her melty stick.
Just a little zap and it turns people into a puddle on the ground.
The first video played, and I smacked my face. "Alright, who was responsible for this fight? That was at least three times as many of our bred monsters as usual."
No one raised their hand.
Fine, I would find out later; I’m too focused to care right now.
Come on people, if you’re going to rig matches to make some profit behind my back, do it better! I don’t care if you kill some schmucks to cheat some black market wagers, but don’t kill potential stars!
"And the next." I waved her to continue.
A woman and big guy. Ugh, I could have seen it now, the way they coordinated; maybe build it up as a love story? Star-crossed love, refusing to leave the other behind, stopping neither until they both earn their freedom.
"Again!" I threw my hands up. "Okay, who increased the number of beasts we send in? Those things don’t grow on trees! If you’re going to screw us over on stars, at least do it without wasting so many resources."
I wanted to let out another sigh.
Deep breaths, Grandmaster.
The short-lived species don’t understand your plights.
They are small and simple-minded creatures.
"Hmm, sir. The match was finished by the other fighters. Do you want to keep watching?"
"Oh, were there more fighters there?" A man with red hair, good-looking, a bit small, but then he punched one of the pit beasts and sent it flying, and I found myself smiling. His choice of weapon was a spear, and he was clearly very good with it. "Good, good," I muttered.
And the other one, an archer of some sort.
A bit more built, his muscles were more pronounced.
"They –"
I held up a finger to silence Topaz. "One, two, twenty-seven—" I counted each shot I caught on screen. "He hit every shot."
That was impressive.
Technical skill is rare. The flashy fights are what draws a crowd, but I can work with something like this.
And he took down that big insect monster by himself.
Sliding under its belly, shooting several arrows up into it, then jumping onto its body when it fell over and finished it off with a dagger.
"Are you not entertained!?"
"Oh Topaz, I’m feeling tingly. The tingle of a star in the making." I reached out to her. "That’s intentional showmanship." Not those far-too-serious types that look like they watch to kill me with their eyes.
The redhead is perfect by himself. He’s good-looking, but there’s a bit of muscle I could see from under his torn clothes. Very strong too, enhanced strength at the very least. They definitely come from a Celestial Egg World based on their features.
"How many matches have they won?"
"This was their first match, sir."
"First match?" I could feel myself smiling. "First match! What a good first match! See everyone, that’s what we’re looking for, stars. Do we have their information? What species are they? We already got their information, right?"
She touched her data pad. "They reported their species as Power Rangers."
"Power Rangers?" I repeated. "It sounds mysterious; I like it. What about names and their planet of origin?"
"They say their planet is named ’dirt’?"
"Dirt?" I scrunched my nose. "Let’s just ignore that."
"Their names are Bint Clarton and Kurosaki Ichigo."
"Wonderful." I clapped my hands. "Move them up with the others. Now, what else do you have for me? Any other hidden gems?"
"There are a few more that may catch your eyes.
"No time like the present; let’s keep going."
[Line Break]
Wilhelm POV
I was hoping that after our first ’match,’ we would get better treatment.
But almost immediately after, we were sent back to our same cell.
Though, they did seem to show more care towards us. Food and water were provided in large quantities when I said that I had to eat a lot.
That was partially a lie.
But it would help my recovery.
That, and they gave me a lot of this weird medical gel and told me to apply it to my body. It did help speed up the uttermost recovery of my body.
Granted, what was truly most debilitating was my soul and insides, but every little bit helped.
I wasn’t overly concerned about those bits right now.
My eyes were closed, and I was meditating to take a closer look at my insides. I wasn’t delving into my inner world, but the breathing exercise I learned from Yoruichi also worked in other ways.
Time passed rather quickly, or at least I think it did.
Maybe my sense of time just got skewed while meditating.
But while looking inside myself, I had some thoughts based on my current situation. My magical energy was at an all-time low; my aura was barely flickering inside of me. My demonic energy was just as minuscule in comparison as well.
But what wasn’t diminished was my divinity.
I couldn’t use my authority fully in my current state for multiple reasons. For one, my soul was still damaged, and the pressure and stress of utilizing a divine authority would make things worse. Secondly, I didn’t know what this damned collar would do if I tried to do so.
My physical aspects also weren’t so great right now. On the surface level, the healing they gave me helped, but bones were still broken, strained, and fractured. And that’s probably not even the worst of it right now.
Regardless, I wasn’t going to suddenly go wild just yet.
But my Divinity...
It was odd seeing it in this state, isolated, my weird biology not wrapped all around it like normal.
If I recovered just a little bit more, I think I could use my authority to summon my divine sword without doing more harm than good. The rebound would certainly not be pleasant, but at that point, the consequences wouldn’t be unbearable.
It gave me time to think.
When was the last time I was this ’weak’?
Before I went to the Land of Shadows—maybe later than that?
But I’ve never felt so human while in possession of Divinity. It allowed me a certain perspective that I didn’t have before. Maybe it was something simple that I missed, but in my diminished state, I think I realized something.
I was using my Divinity wrongly.
Well, that’s probably not the right word.
I don’t think I was using it wrong; I was using it optimally for how I fought at the time. Just like my Aura, I used it in, well, blunt ways. I wasn’t ashamed to say that, nor was I in a hurry to fix it either.
Rin even surpassed me in how she utilized her aura. But how I used mine is how I felt it fit me best.
I didn’t need to master every ability or power to the absolute peak. That’s not to say I wouldn’t get better with it, but I was still young and had time.
And my divinity was in a similar situation, I think.
My divine authorities were potent. On the surface, they were very particular; they had situations they excelled in, and I utilized them to maximize their benefits. But I hadn’t bent them to work for me rather than just releasing them and letting them work how they normally would.
To make it simple, I think I realized a way to use it better.
At least I was focusing on my storm authority I got from Susanoo.
I’ve always focused on releasing lots of power from it. It was one of my big trump cards; I used it when I needed to swing around the big stick.
But I had never considered compressing it down until now.
The thought only occurred to me now that I couldn’t just swing around large swathes of power.
The Power of the Storm.
The Sea.
Lightning.
Sure, summoning storms wasn’t going to be something I stopped doing anytime soon. But what if I could channel all of that power into a single attack?
The full fury of my Storm Authority released all at once in a single swing of my divine sword.
I let out a long breath.
Musu Tengai.
[I’m here, Wilhelm.]
Is it possible to start letting my Storm Authority release without letting it escape from my body? Compress it around my divine sword, keeping it all contained without harming me.
My divine authority is slightly different than a normal god’s; I have to summon it, and it’s stored within me. But why do I have to release it outwards to start letting it build up?
Like shaking a carbonated drink before opening it rather than just pouring it out normally. It will explode outwards for a single moment with more intensity.
[Do you think that’s a good idea in your current state?]
Can I do it without causing more harm to my soul in my current state?
[I can manage to keep things from getting worse by carefully cycling your Divine power so it doesn’t rampage inside your body.]
I sense a ’but’ coming.
[But it’s going to be painful.]
Yeah, I figured that already. I would have loved to try this when I was at my best. Unfortunately, I only had the thought now that I was thinking of ways to utilize what I had under constraints.
Necessity is the mother of invention, I suppose.
I didn’t need to give the word.
Just the tiniest bit of magical energy I had inside was enough to act as the proverbial spark for my authority to spring to life.
Immediately I had to clench my teeth because it felt like I was being electrocuted from the inside.
[Bear with it; it’ll get slightly better in a second.]
It didn’t just bounce around in my soul; it seemed to be jolting everywhere inside my physical body. Even my broken bones, my internals—everything was getting hit by it as it rampaged inside of me.
[I got the hang of it now.] My Zanpakutō spoke, and I could feel the intensity start to alleviate.
The storm still persisted; I felt bloated, and it felt like needles were prickling inside of me, but it wasn’t as debilitating at this point. I had to keep pushing it back down; it wanted to bubble up to the surface and be released.
It was manageable, though.
The collar didn’t trigger, so it shows that it isn’t omnipotent. Rather than letting my Divinity itself rise up and potentially trigger it to affect the world around me, I was using my Divinity to summon a storm within myself. A storm is something more ’natural’? I doubt this device would take that into account and activate based on that.
Otherwise, would it activate if it stormed outside?
That was my logic, anyways.
And if it actually starts storming around here, I might be able to utilize that as well. Just my connection with the storm...maybe I can use that to blow my collar from the outside.
This was just the barest use of my Divine Authority, not even summoning my Divine Sword. But when I finally unsheathe it, we’ll see what happens.
My Aura wasn’t able to manifest because every tiny bit that began to regenerate went into healing.
Likewise, the collar was acting as a sieve, and my magical energy couldn’t fill back up properly, barely having like a drop of it when compared to a pool.
What a shitty situation.
[Wilhelm] Musu Tengai’s voice echoed in my mind. [I think I noticed something peculiar about this world.]
Other than this being an alien planet, you mean?
[It’s not that.] He replied. [I feel a peculiar power. I didn’t know what it was at first, and I was focused on protecting you. But now that things have calmed down, I have noticed that there is something strange lurking nearby.]
Define "nearby."
[I’m not sure either.]
That’s not very helpful.
[It’s all I have for you.] He stated.
I just shook my head in exasperation. I knew he wasn’t being intentionally coy or vague. By the sound of it, he probably had no idea what he was talking about either.
I finally opened my eyes, letting out another breath.
The empty cell greeted me. Clint was the only other person in here, and I noticed he was doing push-ups. "I feel like I could make a prison joke about this." He looked up at me. "Is it cliche if I say something about dropping the soap?"
"Haha," he deadpanned. "The stuff they gave us worked amazingly. All the strain and stress in my muscles went away, and I was curious to see if the effect would persist. I still feel great."
Huh.
"Good to know."
"Mmm, I scraped some off and scooped it into the bottle from before that they didn’t even bother to clean up." Clint pushed himself up before taking a seat. "If you need some more, I plan on storing it away for later."
I nodded.
He really was a super secret spy assassin, wasn’t he?
"So...I’m curious about something."
"I’m not talking about my time in the circus."
"You didn’t know I was going to ask about that."
He gave me a flat look. "I know."
I huffed. "Fine, I was going to ask you about it."
"..."
"..."
"Did you dress up like a clown?"
"I wasn’t a clown." He scoffed.
"Bearded Lady?"
"You’re just stereotyping now." He responded. "I can do that too."
"Yeah? Stereotype me."
"Do you live in a tower, Mr. Wizard?"
"God, I wish. That would be cool. I do have a magic house that can superimpose itself on multiple locations, acting like a hub that connects all the places I like to go. But I think I mentioned that to Coulson already, so it’s probably added to my file."
"Do you have a staff and a wizard’s hat?"
"I have a very good staff. I think I have a wizard’s hat somewhere. I probably stole it from someone. I also have a wand." I answered easily.
"You’re making this a lot less fun."
"Look, I’m not going to think any less of you if you were a clown." I told him honestly.
"I wasn’t a clown!"
"I once hit a clown in the face with a brick."
He did a double take. "What did that clown do to you? And what does that have to do with anything?"
"It doesn’t have to do with anything; I’m just very proud of it. And he was an asshole and deserved it," I answered casually. "If it helps, he was a ghost clown."
Clint opened his mouth before closing it again. "You must live a very weird life."
I shrugged. "Weird is subjective."
Clint finally let out a sigh. "I was a trapeze artist, okay? I did the aerial tricks, and my schtick was shooting targets mid-air with my bow while doing the stunts."
Huh
"That’s impressive."
"Yeah, yeah, I know you’re depressed that I wasn’t actually dressing up like a clown."
"How’d you even end up joining the circus?"
"A series of bad decisions." He sat back against the wall, leaning his head against it. "Funnily enough, joining the circus wasn’t the worst decision I made. You know how it is; I was a stupid kid with shitty parents. Run with the wrong crowd and do things that aren’t legal. I basically ran away when I got in way over my head."
"And you just randomly picked up the bow and realized you had some talent, huh?"
Clint chuckled. "I had an uncle. He liked to shoot. When my parents were being especially shitty, he’d show up and try to help out. He’d take me hunting or just shooting out in the woods. Things turned bad when he died, though. I had no place to escape from everything."
Ah.
I winced slightly as I felt the storm inside me growing slightly.
This was going to be unpleasant for awhile.
"You good?" He clearly noticed my discomfort.
I waved it off. "Doing something stupid in preparation."
"Need me to prepare for it too? I can carry you if you can’t handle it." His offer was genuine, and he showed real concern.
"Don’t know yet. But when the time comes, get ready for something big." I honestly had no idea what would happen when I finally let this loose; I was treading new ground here.
Frankly, a tiny part of me was just a little bit excited to see the results.
"So, how’d you become a wizard? I told you my darkest secret; I think it’s only fair you share."
"Mr. Clarton, are you wanting to dig up my secrets of magic?" I said with mock offense.
"Was it really necessary to give fake names for everything? And seriously, you really made them think our species is called ’Power Rangers’?" He let out a sigh. "I’m not mad at the fake name itself, just what you chose."
"What’s wrong with Power Rangers!? You better choose your answer carefully, or we’re going to have some trouble here."
"Nothing’s wrong with it."
"Uh huh." I looked at him skeptically.
"So, magic?"
"Actually, until I was about 18 years old, I thought I was a normal human. Then I found out that I’m only half human. Met my grandfather—not by blood, mind you—and started practicing magic."
"That must have sucked."
"Mmm." Yeah, it feels like a lifetime ago, though. "It’s fine though. I don’t regret where I ended up. Current situation aside."
"Can you turn someone into a newt?"
"That’s your question?"
"It’s a very valid question."
"Yes, I can theoretically turn someone into a Newt. Human transfiguration isn’t super difficult, but it can be...slightly dangerous to the recipient. It’s not really my area of specialty."
Before he could ask anything else, we heard guards approaching.
Quite a few of them this time, much better-armed.
"On your feet." The head guard, captain, or whatever rank or authority he had, he pointed a tube-like device at us.
Clint and I shared a look, and we climbed to our feet.
"Rejoice, prisoners. The Grandmaster has expedited your ascension to the grand arena. You will be fighting for all of Sakaar to see, even in front of the Grand Master himself. We will be transporting you to your new quarters. If you attempt anything, you will regret it."
Considering the fact that the others were holding guns of some design, and this guy was holding that metal, tube-like device in his hands, it could be guessed that that thing was something special.
Maybe it connected to your ’collars’?
I glanced at Clint.
And he met my eyes.
Silently we seemed to weigh our options before he gave me a short and curt shake of the head, and I gave up on the thought of doing something right now.
It made sense; it would be weird if there was only one level of failure when it came to handling prisoners who were accustomed to fighting.
There had to be more devices or fail-safes that could control our collars.
"Lead the way." I held my hands up.
The guard at the front nodded once, seemingly pleased with our difference.
They led us outside, properly this time. It wasn’t into the arena, but out onto the streets. There were plenty of people walking around, many of whom stared at us like we were there purely for entertainment.
It most certainly pricked at my sensibilities, but I ignored it and looked upwards.
Well, isn’t that just lovely.
Up in the sky, I could see over two dozen space fractures. In addition to those, there were quite a few genuine wormholes just sitting in the sky.
My first thought was that it made sense how we ended up here now. With so many wormholes above the planet, I’m sure a lot of random things just end up here.
The second, however, utterly bewildered me.
How was this planet still here?
In such close proximity to that, the planet should have been ripped to shreds a long time ago.
That is many, many layers of wrong happening.
Was it possible that they were offsetting one another to create a perfect ’eye’ for which this planet to exist between them?
I found that highly unlikely, and I didn’t have my instruments to start calculating the needed variable to figure out what the fuck was happening.
"Move it." One of the guards not so politely nudged me forward.
Pushing me towards a literal wooden wagon.
The kind where anyone inside could look out, and those outside could see inside. It was for the purpose of creating a spectacle or something like that, I would assume. I didn’t recognize the beast of burden they were using; it looked like some distant and misshapen cousin of a hippo.
I followed Clint as we climbed up into the back, and there were other people here.
A woman, looking very human in appearance but with purple skin. And a bipedal insect, different than the one I saw in the arena when we fought before.
They looked at us, and we looked at them before quietly taking our seats a polite distance away.
Awkward silences.
"Hello." I greeted the insect next to me. "I hope this isn’t rude, but I’ve never met a sapient insect before. I just wanted to introduce myself." When was I going to get this opportunity again?
The purple girl looked surprised at my actions.
The insect creature turned to me. Its mandibles clicked, and I almost felt like I said something.
"Good evening to you as well, good sir. Unfortunately, we have become acquainted under less than stellar circumstances. I do not find your inquiry rude in the slightest, perish the thought! In your tongue, my name would be Vernat."
Wow, what a polite gentleman!
Granted, he wasn’t speaking words, but it was translated well enough.
"Good evening to you as well, Vernat. You can call me Wilhelm."
He held up his...claw? I don’t remember what this part of an insect is called. But it’s hand equivalent that was more like a claw; he raised it up, tapping it together.
"We have become acquainted!" He screeched very loudly in what I could only presume was excitement.
Huh.
Well, it’s good to have a positive attitude.
"How did you end up here, Vernat?"
"My people thought I was mad, so they launched me into space." He said with a strange casualness.
Both Clint and the purple woman looked at him with increasing wariness before they both began to scoot ever so slightly away.
Well, I like him.
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A/N
Wilhelm makes a new friend and sees a way to better utilize his authority and divine power now that he has to scrape anything together that he can. It also plays into the next world he visits if you don’t already know.
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