Once her Domain pressed down against the Ghosthound’s images, Helen didn’t waste any time. She could already feel his images eating outward from his body; the images around him were ominously dense. So she planted her foot into the ground and launched herself forward. She flicked her hand out and produced a spear. If she didn’t act quickly, she had no doubt that the Ghosthound would be able to forcefully break through her Domain-

Congratulations! Your Skill (Domain) Tides of Blood (Ru) has grown to Level 299!

The Ghosthound snorted and used his left arm to rake his heavy talons through the air. His claws impacted the waves of crimson energy and ripped large gashes in the Domain before it had even settled over the surrounding area. Even as Helen was still shooting forward, the Ghosthound seized these torn edges of her Domain and pulled.

The Domain shuddered and groaned. The crimson shade to the air lightened as if he somehow managed to suppress her image with a simple physical action.

Helen’s breath hissed through her teeth; she had only crossed half the distance but he had done so much damage to her Domain. Damn, I should have waited until I was closer before baring my fangs… this overpowered piece of shit…!

But even as her anger flared to life, so did Helen’s excitement. This was why she followed the Ghosthound as his knight. This was the power that had captured her loyalty. This overwhelming strength-

Even Helen was shocked as the Ghosthound ripped his bone spear arm up through the flaws he had already seized and forcibly tore her Tides of Blood Domain in half. The small beginnings of a headache began to worm its way into Helen’s temples. This move was a throwback to the times where Randidly had relentlessly trained her Domain by breaking it. But her image’s strength was incomparable to those days; he shouldn’t have been able to accomplish it so casually.

To see the Ghosthound repeat this while relying on only physical power, no less, was something of a shock.

Yet it was a shock that caused Helen’s face to twist into a wicked grin. “You couldn’t help yourself, could you!?!”

That blank sphere of darkness where Randidly’s left eye should have been fixed on Helen as she shot forward with her spear raised. The light around it turned milky and thick, clinging to the edge of that black abyss. Helen’s eyes narrowed as she felt pressured just from eye contact with him.

Still, Helen had covered most of the distance to him so the next wave of her Tides of Blood Domain was able to instantly fill in the gash that the Ghosthound had created. Plus, Helen threw her Willpower into whipping the surrounding currents into an immediate frenzy. They settled across the Ghosthound’s body, binding him and suppressing his image. With her target restricted, Helen lashed forward with her spear while simultaneously striking at his back with Maw of the Hellfin.

Amongst the crimson flows, a shadow rapidly emerged, resolving itself into a horrifying monster. It opened its mouth and lurched toward his exposed back.

The Ghosthound’s right arm shot upward, intercepting Helen’s weapon. To her shock, her spear immediately shattered into bits and the Ghosthound’s attack continued forward without wavering in the slightest from the collision. Helen needed to rely on the currents around her to push her body out of the way. And even so, that viciously powerful attack ripped another huge gash in her Domain.

As for her strike at his back… the Ghosthound didn’t even dodge. The maw crunched down on him and then was shattered by a light shrug.

Gritting her teeth, Helen spun sideways and pulled another spear from her interspatial ring. Then she lunched forward toward the Ghosthound’s side. But as soon as the tip of her spear was about to impact the pale skin of his torso, Helen swore and scrambled backward to avoid the tail that scythed through the air toward her neck.

What was ludicrous was even his tail was powerful enough to destabilize her Domain as it passed through the intervening space. It struck the ground and cracked the reinforced stone. Jesus, how powerful is his physical body?!?

Another blast of blood-colored energy swirled outward, darkening the surrounding space. With her Domain, she pulled all of them deep into the Hellsea. Her image spread out to become an immense pressure over both of them. But Helen was somewhat stumped to see that her Domain struggled to reclaim the area that had been previously torn by the Ghosthound with his arm, even with the recently added weight. Remnants of that blow were still physically present in the air, preventing her from easily healing her Domain.

Congratulations! Your Skill (Domain) Tides of Blood (Ru) has grown to Level 300!

Helen froze for a split second from the shock, then cursed herself and hopped backward to avoid the attack that she suspected would be forthcoming due to her focus slipping. But as she retreated several meters, no attack came. Randidly Ghosthound simply turned with heavy steps to regard her with that oppressive left eye of his.

Helen chewed her lip. Certainly powerful… but it seems like he’s having difficulty wielding that strength… and the images around him keep fluctuating, it’s clear that a lot of his focus is toward maintaining that state. If that’s the case, heheh, then isn’t it just a matter of outlasting him…?

Her eyes flashed with renewed confidence as Helen rushed toward the Ghosthound once more. The Tides of Blood Domain gradually pressed forward and darkened around him.

*****

“This flavor…” Elmer Arrietti frowned down at the danish in his hand. Then he lifted it to his mouth in wonder. He finished it in two bites and then licked his fingers to devour every last bit of the tasty morsel. “This is delicious. I thought you were a construction contractor. How are you so…?”

“Heh, don’t judge a book by its cover,” Ed Dugg said with a rather smug smile as he toyed with his impressive mustache. Both men chatted cheerily, considering the ground beneath them shook every few seconds. It seemed that the training up on Ghosthound’s peak was quite serious today. “While it is just a hobby, I can tell you that I take baking very seriously. My delicatessen was one of the most famous locations in all of Donnyton…”

Then Ed’s expression began to twist into a scowl. “...before various jackals imitated me and flooded the market with mediocrity. Confused by the signals of opportunists villains, some of my significant following wavered, but let me tell you, I was conspired against and betrayed by those I once considered friends… hey, kids!”

Ed and Elmer were sitting on a low wooden bench that was placed in front of the mud-brick building that was Ed’s bakery. Around them were the slowly-being-assembled skeletons of other mud-brick buildings. Unlike Ed’s, the bricks of these structures almost looked smudged and malformed; it was clear that a much less talented builder had sweated and struggled to assemble these dwellings.

As Ed spoke, kids began to poke their heads over the partially assembled walls. Then, seeing Ed’s tense expression, all of the thirty-two kids that were here to learn various construction based Skills trotted out from their current projects and gathered in front of them.

Ed gestured grandly like a composer readying his orchestra. “What is the first lesson of the Dugg School of Construction?”

“Excellence in all things,” The children replied so nearly in unison that Elmer couldn’t help but be impressed.

Then Ed gestured again with bulging eyes, this time jabbing his finger forward like he was skewering an overweight rat that had skittered into his well-stocked pantry. “And the second lesson?”

“Death to the traitorous bootlickers and sycophants!” The children said again. This time, however, they seemed to hunch over as they were speaking and pushed out their hands in lightly curled fists. Then, after they finished speaking, they straightened and resumed their bored expressions.

It was immediately clear that Ed Dugg had instructed them very specifically in regard to the posture while enunciating his rules. Suddenly, Elmer had the vague impression that he should report these sort of actions to someone of consequence. Wasn’t this the early stages of brainwashing…? And only a week had passed since the group had arrived in the Dungeon...

Ed nodded with satisfaction as he watched the performance. “Good, good. Anyway, get back to work! Remember, tomorrow I will demonstrate the creation of shingles once more. Based on what the Ghosthound has decreed, Clarissa will be sending a thunderstorm our way tomorrow night; if you don’t do a good job, you will sleep in a puddle!”

The children quickly scattered back to their personal mud buildings, going to the task of laying out bricks to dry in the sun with remarkable enthusiasm. Elmer Arrietti politely wiped his mouth from invisible crumbs to give his hands something to do. “Well… all of that was a bit unnecessary. I just wished to compliment-”

The rest of his words were cut off as the familiar figure of Fenlin, one of his most inept patrol officers, stumbled down the slope toward the river. Both Ed and Elmer watched the man, who was covered in a mixture of mud and blood that made it seem like he had recently crawled out of a shallow grave, rush past the mud-brick huts and throw himself into the river.

For almost a minute, there was peace. Both men sitting on the bench exchanged a glance, and Elmer wondered if perhaps Fenlin had been so exhausted by Ajax’s training schedule that he had come down to the river to seek sweet release. However, both witnesses to this act were also aware of the increased physical capacity that the System had brought, so neither moved quite yet.

And to repay their expectations, Fenlin eventually drifted up out of the swiftly flowing river water and staggered back to shore. The man’s bleary eyes eventually settled on his small audience and widened in surprise. Then, specifically focusing on Elmer, pride and respect emerged in his gaze.

“Commissioner! Could you… could you have already finished the training menu that Miss Helen created for you today?” Fenlin asked as he came closer.

Elmer thought about that and glanced up toward Ghosthound’s peak, where powerful image reverberations continued to shake the surrounding terrain. Fenlin’s assertion… was likely inaccurate. In a lot of ways. First of all, Helen didn’t really seem to have any sort of training menu prepared for him… she simply attacked Elmer with images and forced him to defend himself. And also… rather than finishing her training, he had been knocked out by one of her attacks and woke up to find that she had vanished. It was only when the fighting started on Ghosthound’s peak that he realized where she had gone.

Honestly, he had been quite afraid that Helen had been so disgusted by his slow progress that she had given up on him. Elmer’s newest theory was that she had simply been so annoyed by his slow progress that she went to blow off some steam fighting the Ghosthound, but at least she hadn’t truly abandoned him.

Yet a part of him quivered in fear as he realized that also meant his training would soon resume.

Elmer coughed awkwardly. “Ah, well. Even training cannot last forever. Sometimes you need a bit of time to recover your faculties… how is your training coming along, Fenlin?”

Fenlin looked at Elmer for a long time. Then he swayed. Then he began to cry. “Commissioner… I’m just a fraud! I don’t deserve to be here!”

Elmer’s mouth twitched. You… somehow, doesn’t it feel like this young man is stealing my thunder?