Even though Randidly knew that he was alone in the bathhouse as he toweled himself off, he still surreptitiously glanced around at the surrounding area. What he was about to do was agonizingly embarrassing. It was only when he was sure no one else was present that he twisted his neck and sniffed his own shoulder.

...It really does smell pretty good… Randidly frowned down at his well-cleaned arm and then shook his head. So why was there so much of only the Ghosthound scent…? All the other soaps were gone...

Gritting his teeth and cursing himself for spending so much time thinking about this, Randidly went over to the locker where he had stored his clothes. But of course, when he opened up the locker he was met by a wafting smell of sweat and dried blood that had been slowly condensing there for the past fifteen minutes.

Randidly grimaced as he looked in at the leather pants and cotton shirt that he had worn for the past several years in the System. While it was true he washed regularly… his definition of ‘regularly’ had certainly been stretched to its limits. To his Grim Intuition strengthened gaze, an ominous miasma born of male excretions hung over the worn clothes.

With a sigh, Randidly used telekinesis with Authority of the Burning Heart to float the clothes out onto the warmed stone floor. Then Randidly used a blast of emerald and orange fire to annihilate them completing, filling the air with foul-smelling ash.

Congratulations! Your Skill Authority of the Burning Heart (A) has grown to Level 130!

Congratulations! Your Skill Ignition of the Emerald Essence (L) has grown to Level 217!

For good measure, Randidly utilized Reaper’s Mantle of Catastrophe to forcefully eradicate the drifting charred remains of his closed. To his surprise, it was difficult to isolate the particles without damaging the floor as well, so Randidly had to spend several minutes concentrating in order to accomplish what he wanted. His mind sharpened to a razor’s edge and he cut away at the offending matter. But eventually, only a sparkling clean floor remained.

Congratulations! Your Skill Reaper’s Mantle of Catastrophe (L) has grown to Level 107!

…

Congratulations! Your Skill Reaper’s Mantle of Catastrophe (L) has grown to Level 122!

Then Randidly grimaced as he stood naked, damp towel over his shoulder, and looked down at his handiwork. Perhaps now isn’t the best time to be working on my finer Control with underutilized Skills… Better finish preparing for tonight.

Randidly retrieved some spare clothes from his interspatial ring and then hesitated as he looked down at his typical combination of leather pants and a loose shirt. Then, moving with forced casualness, he retrieved a second pair of clothes from within his ring and placed them on the bench, comparing the two outfits.

In a move that displayed an annoying amount of prescience, Tatiana had given Randidly the second pair of clothes, ‘just in case’, earlier in the day while they had been finalizing some minor details. The shirt was pretty similar to his regular shirts, white linen and loose-fitting around his torso, only obviously more well made than the typical shirts that Randidly wore.

To the point that touching the fabric was more pleasurable than any shirt had a right to be.

But the pants were something special. They were a dark, dark grey silk harvested from the Weavers that had come to Earth. They were relatively loose as well, and Randidly couldn’t deny that the material was incredibly comfortable. The part that made him slightly uncomfortable was the fact that there were embroidered designs hidden on the left and right legs of the pants.

The left leg was done with forest green thread while the right was done with black thread. Therefore it was practically impossible to see the embroidery unless the light hit the pants at exactly the right angle. A subtle nod to the images hiding in his person.

But when the situation aligned, the left was thoroughly wrapped in the vast branches of Yggdrasil, the tree of life. The twisted form of the Grim Chimera, with a claw, a bone spear, and two tails, stalked across his right leg.

“Sorry Ignition Essence, we need to work on your memorability,” Randidly muttered. For a few more seconds he glanced between the two outfits, but eventually he picked up the outfit given to him by Tatiana with resignation in his heart. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand the value of wearing such an outfit, it was just that Randidly generally preferred not to think of himself as anything but a man who trains. Actively choosing the outfit when given other options… was a very definite acceptance of the other roles he possessed.

But he had already stepped upon the path of a leader. Of a King. And it couldn’t be denied that people responded to outfits. Tatiana even displayed a surprising amount of care for his opinion by making the decorations of his outfit as subtle as they were. So today, when he wanted to lead, he would take the richer choice of vestments.

He would wear the clothes that would correspond most closely with the power that he wielded.

Randidly slid himself into the well-made shirt, actually enjoying how smooth and cool the fabric was against his skin. Afterward, he carefully put on underwear and pants. Despite his general derision toward people who were too vain, Randidly couldn’t help but step up to a nearby mirror and examine himself.

“Today I try and change the world,” Randidly said with a tired smile at his own reflection.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

*****

Tatiana ran her fingertips along the golden banister on the second floor of the ballroom and watched the situation develop below. A hush spread rapidly out through the room when the Nemesai arrived in the ballroom. Many people standing near the entrance took several nervous steps backward to give the new arrivals space to move. There was probably a thirty by twenty-meter space at the front, but with so many people there already, it was positively crowded.

They were a bit earlier than Tatiana had expected them, but that didn’t matter. This sort of confrontation was inevitable.

Even the conflict of images on the dance floor proper seemed to stall out as the Nemesai pulled all the attention in the room to them. The ripples of light and images shifted to become more tranquil. The whole of Earth’s elite that were assembled today turned to look at the group that had orchestrated the death of thousands only a short time ago.

For a second, no one said anything. Then Thea snorted. “Nothing to say? I had thought the people of Earth had more spine than that.”

That statement had Tatiana raising her eyebrows in surprise. I had thought it was strange that they were making such an obvious entrance so early in the night… but now also antagonizing most of the guests? Are the Nemesai trying to incite violence here…? Or perhaps this is just them acting out against Randdily’s implied threat that compelled them to attend the party itself…?

But Thea’s words seemed to have the intended effect; there were surges of emotion from around the room that quickly changed the environment from fearful to volatile. Tatiana was especially surprised by one man from Zone 1, sitting in a wheelchair, who briefly reacted with such a cutting and vicious surge of hatred that it shredded through the confusing swirl of emotions around it. That one brief glimpse into the man’s depths was just as potent as an image.

Tatiana made a mental note of the man.

Perhaps wanting to savor the reaction, the Nemesai began to casually stroll forward through the crowd toward the tiles. People backed out of their way, faces twisted into grim stares as they considered the Nemesai. The crowd was angry, but no one wanted to be the one to break the uneasy peace. They couldn’t even respond to Thea’s words.

...until Mrs. Hamilton’s voice cut through the heavy mood. “Jump on in. The tiles are certainly a delightful experience.”

“Plenty of room,” Warlord said with his eyes glittering as he looked over toward the approaching Nemesai.

Even Azriel perked up as she looked over at the approaching group. “Oh? I wouldn’t have believed that anyone but Randidly had an image worth a damn on this planet. What a diverting surprise. Is the flaming bear coming too?”

In Tatiana’s mind, the sudden tightness around Thea Glasshammer’s eyes and the way the Winged Serpent abruptly stilled in response to Azriel’s words confirmed that they were trying for a shock and awe strategy in their entrance. And it seemed that three people had already begun subverting that impression. So they would need to change their strategy

But the Bandit King didn’t possess the tact of the other Nemesai.

He barred his precious-gem encrusted teeth in a snarl. “Do you think this is a joke? I cannot believe that there are people that had the gall to invite us-”

“Enough,” The Obsidian Duke said suddenly. “Demonstrate through action. There is no need to speak to ones such as these.”

Ah. Tatiana tapped her chin as a thought struck her. Perhaps this isn’t about Randidly at all. Perhaps they even would be interested in the meeting normally, but the Nemesai are worried what the people of Earth will think if they casually attend the party. As though some of their fear of them will disappear. So they risk attracting ire by entering boldly in order to leave an impression… but why are they willing to go to such lengths to make others fear them?

Thea, the Winged Serpent, and the Grey Lich stayed on the ground while the Obsidian Duke and the Bandit King proceeded forward onto the tiles. The Bandit King, in particular, was already releasing an ominous pressure even before he moved out to join the other people who were testing their images. People drifted naturally deeper into the central part of the ballroom as the Nemesai approached. Then, as soon as the Bandit King’s feet touched the glowstone tile, a ripple of light ran through everywhere.

Once again, the smallest and weakest individuals had the light beneath their feet waver and shrink. By this round, the weaker individuals produced practically no light through their image. Even Azriel, the dominant force on the floor, showed signs of waning as the Nemesai began to wax brilliantly. Almost immediately, the press of their images blasted outward and filled the ballroom.

From the Obsidian Duke, there was a strange sort of image of claustrophobic metamorphosis. It was possible to feel how the heat and pressure of the ground warped materials into a completely different shape through his mind. To the Nemesai’s credit, the process seemed firmly grounded in silence. But there was a strange sense of alchemy to it that gave him his persistent ability to absorb damage.

Meanwhile, the Bandit Duke carried with him a more predictable scent of blood and the ominous feeling of standing on a field filled with freshly deceased bodies. His was a figure that was dripping blood and craving more. The depraved cravings in his heart were laid bare for all to see. The dark, oppressive nature of the two images seemed to seem into the air, tainting everything they touched.

If there is a problem with this floor, it’s that it conveys the images too well, Tatiana thought as she frowned down at the action below. She managed okay against the pulsing image that pressed against the surrounding area, but she could sense that some of the reverberations were penetrating the thick walls of the ballroom and affecting the caterers who were just trying to prepare additional food. She quickly sent a message to Wolfram, who immediately began to move through the perimeter passages of the building to provide the average people some protection.

As for the employees passing out drinks… they were mostly selected from the Order Ducis applicants. So although they didn’t necessarily have the strongest images themselves, they at least had experience enduring against the power of another person’s image. With exceptionally stiff expressions, they continued to drift around the party and offer the distracted guests flutes of champagne.

Helen had been only too happy to provide them hands-on experience of the agony of enduring through an image. It seemed she had quite a bit of frustration to work off after fighting a Randidly who relied only on his physical body.

The light beneath the two Nemesai’s feet continued to swell. It seemed that they were familiar enough with each other that they worked together, quickly pressuring even Azriel’s image to shrink to a size smaller than them.

“Is this really all you have?” The Bandit King cackled. He spread his arms wide in mocking imitation of the image the Paolo was still producing. “Is this truly the limit of your strength? Well then, don’t mind if we tear everything you’ve built to the ground.”

“Fuck you.” Someone from the crowd spoke up. Tatiana stiffened. Alta Bounty slowly stalked forward toward the Nemesai, her eyes narrowed. Smoke drifted up from the corners of her eyes.