Chapter 62 | Who the fuck is Aiden Origin!?
[3rd Person POV]
<In the Balcony of Arena, Roxaban City>
"Okay, who the fuck is this Aiden Origin!?" Solkar Moonken shouted.
"Somebody is angry," Irelia commented.
"Behave yourself, Solkar, or have you forgotten that I am here?" a stern voice of Malachi came from the middle.
"And Irelia, no need to add wood to the fire," he added.
"I apologize for my outburst, Chancellor," Solkar accepted. Irelia maintained her silence.
"So what do we know about this Aiden guy?" asked Malachi.
"Not much; he entered Kronesthion about 2 weeks ago and registered for the tournament."
"During registration, due to some altercation with a brat from a lower-level family, the invigilator put him under unnecessary scrutiny in public." Silen answered.
"However, he had understanding of council’s own rules better despite being a human. He used our rulebook to owe a favor from that invigilator." He added.
"After that, there’s no sighting of him until today at the Arena," he finished sharing the details he knew at the moment.
"I have asked Sibhan to look into him; we may know more about him in a few hours," he further said.
"You know, now that I look at him, he seems somehow familiar to me. I can’t exactly remember his face, but it feels like I have seen him somewhere," Verrisa shared abruptly, bringing the attention in the room to her.
"This is not the time to joke, Verrisa," Solkar reprimanded.
"You don’t have the authority to tell me what to do or not. Don’t cross boundaries, Solkar, and I am not joking. As I had said already, I really need to meet this guy," Verrisa responded sharply to Solkar’s words.
"And how can he use vampire skills?" Mara Ironmaw spoke for the first time, bringing the attention of the room back to the screen.
"It’s not something new; one can have vampire skills if they have blood affinity, which, while being rare, is not impossible," Silen answered.
There was silence for a few minutes as everyone intently watched as Aiden left mountains of corpses in his wake.
Suddenly, a knock was heard. "Enter," Malachi gave permission.
As expected, Sibhan entered the room and bowed and repeated her greetings.
"What did you find?" asked Silen.
"Apologies, my lord. Besides what you already know. There isn’t much other information about him. His ID is issued from Astryx Bank, so we couldn’t probe further." She answered.
"Furthermore, we checked if he is from some low-level family. However, there is no Origin Family; he has no other record that we could find in such a short time. Please excuse my incompetence," she added, accepting her shortcomings.
"Don’t be so hard on yourself, Sibhan. This individual has all of us stumped," Malachi reassured her.
"Thank you for your kind words, Chancellor," she replied.
"You can go, try to find whatever you can. It doesn’t matter how small it is," Silen ordered.
"As you command, my lord," she accepted and left the room immediately.
"Solkar, do you think your Maren can kill the Zenith stage Grandmaster rank monster this easily?" Irelia presented a question.
"Ab-Absolutely, if he goes all out, I am sure he can kill that monster too. Don’t forget, his talent is related to strength," Solkar replied after being flustered for a second at the unexpected question.
"There’s no need to beat ourselves up over it. At the rate he’s going, we will meet him sooner than later; let’s focus on the matches and lighten the room a bit," Malachi addressed, putting a stop to the matter for now.
The room became silent again, although the tension in the room still lingered about this wild card in Kronesthion.
– – –
<Somewhere in Sandramoor Wild>
A werewolf was fighting monsters leisurely, like he has all the time in the world. He had tufts of dense hair on both of his shoulder blades, a signature of werewolves in their humanoid form.
He was bare-chested, showcasing his chiseled body and fine muscles. The pants he wore were helpful in keeping his movement restriction-free.
The other three werewolves were standing behind, watching their leader, Marion Moonken, easily picking off master-level monsters.
After dispatching the final Grandmaster rank monster with a bit of struggle. Marion finally stopped as he took a deep breath, turning towards his three lackeys.
"Give me a demonic mana potion and stamina potion," he ordered.
The werewolf standing in the middle complied happily, "Here, boss." He tossed them towards Marion.
"Let’s hurry up. Although I would come first, I still want to be as close to the highest score as possible," Marion spoke.
"What’s your current score, boss?" The werewolf lackey on the right questioned.
Marion checked his plank and answered, "2485," with a small hint of pride.
"The highest score is 4584; we have very little time left; I will try to lessen the gap," he added.
He leads them ahead, trusting his werewolf instinct to try and kill as many monsters as possible. If any unlucky participants were caught in the way, they immediately surrendered as Marion was famous, and nobody wanted to die, but some still died.
This kind of treatment only fueled the ego of Marion; he was already thinking of ideas of ways to lavishly spend his time after the first round as he waited for other finalists to be decided.
Suddenly, a light lit up beneath him and the lackeys’ feet as they were teleported out of the Sandramoor Wild.
Expecting a cheerful environment buzzing with his name, a cold silence greeted him. He was a bit confused about the situation; not knowing what to think, he consoled himself, thinking his performance was so breathtaking that the audience was stunned.
"This concludes the first round of The Mandate of Kronesthion. Let’s check the score and see the top scorers of Requiem of the Damned." The host spoke.
His usual energy was depleted after watching a certain someone performing against everyone’s expectations.
The arena showed minimum reaction, like they already knew the result. This environment was getting confusing for Marion by the second.
The host started with sharing information first, "I will be announcing 13 names, including one finalist and 12 other participants. These 12 will fight to decide the right to challenge the finalist," the host explained.
"Without waiting more, let’s get into it." He added as he started announcing names.
Rashawn Drawblood—1835; Seltroz Kinn—1975...
He continued announcing the names; there were small cheers here and there. He finally announced, "Marion Moonken—3175,"
Marion raised his hands in triumph, but the next moment, he froze for a second, then his mind started running wild. Unlike the inner turmoil of Marion, there was complete silence in Arena; even minute chatters died down.
It’s like they were waiting for the inevitable names to be announced.
"Wait, how am I second?" Marion tried to ask, but he question was overpowered by the loud voice of the host.
"And now the finalist, the wild card who brought himself to the center of the stage just by his sheer strength, the one to get the number one position, is AIDEN ORIGIN with the highest ever score of 6575," he finished the announcement.
This time the arena erupted with roars and cheers; amidst all the noise, even the loud voice of Marion was ignored as he shouted, "Who the fuck is Aiden Origin!?"