Chapter 687: Slinky

Derek turned around and let out a long sigh. Apparently, he was right in the decision to fight without any skills other than ones like Greater Meditation. For a moment, he thought he was going to lose. However, with the fight against Garrett, he realized that even though he was in the dark about what he was doing before and how he was choosing to level his skills, his instincts had always been correct with meditation. That and his evolution from the Origin System was a lethal... or unlethal, combination.

Looking over the small crowd that had gathered, his eyes finally found Hall Master Sheen and Alex, who were standing alone at the side, beside each other. Nobody else dared to stand close to the old man out of either fear or respect—mostly fear.

The hall master's face was still covered in his massive grin, but this time, Derek thought he could really see it in his eyes. Maybe the old man's feeling a bit more validated in his decision to sponsor me since I was able to pull that off, Derek thought. He smiled at the two, then shot them both a thumbs-up.

If the hall master's expression was one of pride and validation, Alex's was nothing but relief. The young man looked as if he had held his breath the entire match and was only just now breathing.

While looking at his friend—maybe even friends, depending on how Hall Master Sheen actually felt about it all—Derek finally heard his opponent moving around behind him. I guess the potion kicked in, he thought. That dude is going to be one hell of a fighter if he changes his way of thinking just a little bit. Maybe losing to me because of my endurance will help him some.

As Derek was thinking about all of that, he suddenly saw the twinkle that was in the hall master's eyes disappear. Not only that, but the grin he was always wearing began to turn down. What? Derek thought, but just as he did, he felt a massive sense of danger behind him. He widened his eyes and made to turn, but he wasn't going to be fast enough.

Various thoughts ran through his head. It would be easy enough to use Void Shift or Active Void Shift to escape whatever danger was behind him, but that would give away everything that he was trying to hide—everything that he had to hide. He had his Powerstride skill, but he wouldn't have enough time to activate it and dodge.

As his head turned just enough to see the point of the sword out of the corner of his eye, traveling directly at him, he could only hope that his regeneration from Greater Meditation and his evolution would be enough to save him from the attack and regenerate whatever part of his brain was about to be run through.

However, somehow, Derek completed his full turn and brought his forearm up to block. He never blinked or even closed his eyes. But when the feeling of the sword piercing his skin—a sensation he'd grown accustomed to during the battle—never happened, he cautiously lowered his arm to see Garrett standing there with nothing but fear plastered on his face.

"What's going on?" Derek muttered, but as soon as he did, he witnessed a sight that made his heart flutter and his stomach churn a little.

Garrett's arms and legs suddenly began to slide off him in tiny, intricate slices. The bone was sliced as thinly as the meat. It was as if he'd been put through a meat slicer and turned into deli meat. But the scary thing was the precision with which it was done. Derek realized that each slice was still connected to the previous one, and that Garrett's limbs were connected like a Slinky.

Derek took a step back only to feel as like he'd run into a wall. When he looked over his shoulder, he saw Hall Master Sheen standing there without an ounce of a smile on his face. The hall master put his hand on Derek's shoulder, then casually lifted him and moved him to the side.

Sheen took a step forward and bent down in front of the quivering Garrett, whose face showed he was in unthinkable pain. "Boy," the hall master said. "Are you really my kin?"

"B-b-b..." Garrett babbled, but nobody could even guess what he was trying to say.

"It was a friendly spar," Hall Master Sheen said. "Now, accidents happen during spars, so if one of you had died during... well... it happens. Or, if the two of you were enemies fighting outside the clan for real, then it would have been Derek's fault for not finishing you off and letting you live. That would have been extremely dumb. If that happened, and you did this... I may even be proud of you."

But Sheen shook his head and tsked, "But in a spar, against a young genius that I have sponsored. A spar that you lost cleanly in... you have embarrassed me." The hall master didn't say that he'd embarrassed the clan or that he'd embarrassed himself, but that he'd embarrassed the hall master.

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The hall master then flicked his index finger up, and Garrett rose into the air—his face turning blue as something squeezed his throat. Derek looked from the scene, over to the audience, and saw that everyone was standing stock still—all pale and visibly shaking. Many even had vomit at their feet and dirty robes. Derek turned back to the hall master.

"Just what were you thinking, boy?" Hall Master Sheen asked, but it wasn't like he was expecting a response. "Actions like this, in front of me? Were you planning on dying today? Because Garrett... that is how you die. That is how you die and make it where your family isn't even able to grieve for you for fear of offending me."

The hall master clicked his tongue, then bent down and picked up an almost microscopic piece of bone that was lying in the pool of blood. "It seems that I am a bit out of practice. Maybe I have become too soft in my old age." He turned and looked at Derek, and the grin magically reappeared on his face. "You are correct, my young friend. It seems that I have even regressed in my affinity and ability use since I stopped trying to grow stronger. This is going to have to be remedied."

Derek gulped, then nodded. "That's good," was all that he said.

"Indeed, it is good, is it not?" the man smiled wider, then the smile disappeared again, and he turned back to Garrett. He looked the boy up and down, then rubbed his chin. "Perhaps House Warp needs a new, old patriarch. It seems that Grayson is letting the younger generation become too spoiled." After that, the hall master looked up and to his right. "Vice Patriarch, are you going to continue to watch from up there?"

Suddenly, Bastian, the Vice Patriarch of the Loomis Clan, appeared in the sky out of nowhere. The man then started slowly floating down to the training area. Finally, he landed with grace behind Garrett. "I think this young one understands now, Sheen. That is enough."

"No, I don't think it is," the hall master replied. "Tell me, Bastian, how would you react if one from your branch did such a thing, aiming at your guest, while you watched? Tell me, what level of disrespect is that?"

"Don't act like you care about respect," Bastian said as he reached up with his hand, and Garrett suddenly took in a large, gasping breath.

"Are you trying to prevent me from disciplining a member of my branch? One with a kinship to me?" The hall master tilted his head, and his smile—no, a different type of smile—began forming on his face. "That seems very disrespectful to me, as well, don't you think?"

"Again, with the disrespect? Since when have you cared about anyone disrespecting you?" Bastian shook his head. "What has gotten into you, Sheen?"

"Just some wise words from a young friend is all," Hall Master Sheen replied, then held his hand up and Garrett's face started turning blue once more.

"Stop it!" Bastian shouted. "We both know you're not going to do anything here. Garrett is one of the most talented of the younger generation. He has the ability to become a future Vice Patriarch. It is not hard to see him reaching High Ascendant. If not, then you wouldn't have left him connected to where a health potion could easily heal him without the need to bring in House Suture."

"I don't think you understand, Bastian... you never did," Sheen clicked his tongue. "Garrett here, with his pansy attitude after losing a sanctioned duel watched by an elder—and a vice patriarch—does not have a bright future ahead. With such a tantrum, he's going to become the villain in someone else's story and end up dead while also bringing shame on House Loomis."

"Maybe," Bastian surprisingly agreed. "But after today, do you not think that he will change the little that is needed for that not to happen?"

"Maybe," the hall master also agreed with the Vice Patriarch. "But it could just as well push his attitude in a different direction. Brats like him can't let things like this go. You should know this. You are one of them, after all."

"I'm what?" The Vice Patriarch's brow rose.

"You are a brat. Just like this kid," the hall master said. "You just got lucky I was around a few times and that you were a bit smarter in your conniving and never ran into someone you couldn't actually afford to offend, except for those few times. Look in this boy's eyes. Do you see that cunning in those eyes? No, he doesn't have it. He is a brute at his very core. He cannot be like you. Unless he never leaves that clan to go adventuring, he's going to bring shame on us."

After that, Bastian actually walked over the puddle of blood on the ground without getting a speck of it on him. Then he turned and looked up at the floating young man. He stared at him for what felt like forever. Finally, he sighed, "You may be correct, but should we not let him make those mistakes himself? Let his actions in the future determine his fate?"

"Of course we shouldn't," Sheen snorted. "Why would we want to do that? Look at all these children who already look up to this child. Do we want to breed a whole generation of his type? A generation of weak-minded fools who mistake shelter for strength and think their elders will bail them out whenever they are in trouble? Because Bastian, that is exactly what you are doing right now."

"Mistake shelter for strength?" Bastian mouthed, then he nodded. "You may not be wrong about that. But Sheen, do not forget that I am your better. I am the Vice Patriarch of this house, and you are a mere hall master."

"You've never been my better a day in your life," Sheen snorted again. "So what if your affinity is a little higher? Even dulled as mine is, it is still sharper than yours. And about being hall master, I've decided that I don't want to do that anymore, so I'm stepping down. But if you want to take responsibility for that kid, fine, go ahead. You can put him in your house, because I don't want him in mine."

"Step down? You can't step down from being hall master. That's your punishment," Bastian said.

"Yeah? But I'm bored with it now, and I have better things to do," Sheen replied, then flicked his wrist. Whatever was holding Garrett up disappeared, and the young man fell to the ground like a puppet with his strings cut. "If you have a problem with it, go tell the Patriarch. Or better yet..." Sheen's smile grew to the point where it was almost meeting his eyes. "How about you make me stay a hall master?"