Threads of the Soul

Chapter 433 - 433: A Knight's Tale

Trudging through this strange alien world, Corvus briefly cast his mind back to Polly, the puppet he had left behind. He didn't feel too bad about it, after all it was just a regular puppet. The only difference was the crystalised soul core implanted in its face, which sort of looked like an eye.But that was just there to act as a power source and nothing more. It wouldn't cause anything else to happen, he knew that because he had tested it countless times with the soul remnants that he harvested with his tool.

He had implanted those crystals in puppets and nothing happened, so why would this time be different?

Of course, he did take a few precautions. After all, there was no point in creating a secret army if it was discovered. That defeated the point of the secret portion of the secret army. So he had never connected himself to Polly.

Instead he simply created a [Spirit Animal] in secret and left that there to connect and control Polly and all the other puppets it would make. Even that [Spirit Animal]'s information was hidden from him, as he had disconnected himself from it, thus the need for the soul core to keep it going.

Loki had been powerful enough that his soul should be able to keep that little Raven going for at least a hundred years, not that it would get a chance to live out that many years. Hell, it would be a miracle if it managed to live for a hundred days, so it was best for it to work fast. He just hoped it would be alright on its on, with just a totally and utterly lifeless puppet for company.

He couldn't dwell on that subject for long though, because he had his own problems. Mostly the irritating people still following behind him like lost puppies, while he led Astra and Woe to the next spacial breach that the bracer had detected.

It was going to be a long walk, and these people were only making it feel longer by constantly asking him annoying questions, many of them with pompous or arrogant attitudes he so desperately wanted to slap out of them.

There was also the fact that one of them might be a traitor who was working with Loki, although he had his suspicions who, nothing was confirmed. Regardless, he had to inform them of what he had realised and discovered, to stop them asking about what he did with Loki. But that only involved even more questions.

His irritation was nearly at its tipping point when one of them dared to ask, in a whiny and childish tone,

"Are we there yet? It feels like we've been walking for miles... Ugh, this is why I had a car for everything."

Corvus clenched his fists as they trembled beside him in a desperate attempt to keep himself together. He kept telling himself he needed them, that their species needed to have a united front against the invaders otherwise they would collapse from within like every great empire, only theirs would be before it had even formed.

Worst of all, He couldn't drift his focus off to watch the tournament and let his body walk on its own. He had tried a few times, but every single time he could feel the icy hand of death clenching around his throat.

Every time he let so much as a single percent of his focus drift to his other body, he would feel the soul piercing gaze of the woman beside him staring daggers at him. Her way of silently informing him that if he left her alone with these irritating idiots again, that she would fulfil that old promise she had made and actually kill him.

Worst of all, he believed her. It was genuinely scary how easily she could notice him doing it every single time, and he had no idea how. That was the worst part.

Corvus nervously glanced at the woman walking beside him, who turned at the feeling of his gaze. She squeezed his hand playfully and flashed him a loving and sweet smile that sent shivers down his spine.

Why oh why did he have to fall for the terrifying and horrifyingly dread inducing, yet beautiful woman? He returned the smile, even though she couldn't see it, and faced forwards again as he let out a soft sigh. Corvus squeezed Astra's hand in return and kept trudging ever onwards.

At least he wasn't going to be missing anything important, right?

***

With the forging tournament concluded for the day, and the winners moving onto the next round, the tournament had moved into full swing. The current event running was a jousting tournament, and so far the crowd had been absolutely loving everything they had seen.

The rules of the joust were simple. The contestants would mount their steeds and ride towards each other, separated only by a small waist high wall between their lanes. When they reached each other, they would lower their lances and strike.

The lances were made of a basic wood, taken from some lower mutated oak trees which had the mutation of growing like Bamboo. Full oak trees could be grown from scratch in around a month, after which they would begin to reinforce themselves and suck out the nutrients from the ground around them to do so.

It was a plague on the land if not controlled, as they could spawn and repopulate rapidly which was the trait that gave them the name 'Goblin Trees', but they were also great for sustainably farming wood if treated correctly. So long as they were chopped down within a month, you had a fantastic and renewable source of wood.

Without the reinforcement of their later stages, These Goblin Wood lances exploded into a dazzling explosion of splinters that got the crowd cheering with every successful strike. Injuries from splinters was the most dangerous part, as the lances were blunted on the ends with decorative ornaments.

They didn't want to kill anyone after all.

The jousts came down to a best of three. Ride towards each other three times, and try to break the lances. One point for breaking on the torso, and two for on the head. Automatic victory was given to those who knocked their opponent off their steed, meaning straps and other fastening equipment were banned.

These were the classic rules of the joust, from the olden times. Of course they had to add a few more, such as the use of abilities.

In short, anything to keep you attached was banned. Otherwise, it was fine. Strengthening, Reinforcement, Shielding, etc. All of it was allowed, so long as you did not use them to attack your opponent in any way other than with the lance.

There was also the matter of steeds. There were standard steeds given to those who did not possess one, for a cost, but it was allowed - and encouraged - for the 'Knights' to bring their own mount.

This was mainly to ease up the burden of the kingdom on supplying steeds, in case of injury as some of them were work animals, but some people took it as an opportunity to show off their wealth and power.

Such was the case of the current Knight that was preparing for his turn. He was encased in a suit of solid gold armour, which glistened in the mid-day sun. He appeared like a type of man-shaped horn beetle, even down to the large horn sprouting from the top of his helmet. It was no wonder where he acquired such armour.

But what was most shocking was the large tiger he rode as his chosen steed. A creature that was also made of solid gold, with silver stripes instead of black. It easily carried the Knight on its back and basked in the awe of the crowd with pride.

Both of them did. They deserved every ounce of praise and worship they got. However, as soon as their opponent strode onto the scene, that praise and worship slowly died down and was replaced by curiosity.

Across from the Beetle knight was a fluffy wolf with fur as white as snow, which was easily said as snow was literally drifting down around it where it stood. The wolf in question had two heads, one of which was glancing around curiously while the other stared ahead at the golden tiger.

Everyone knew this wolf. This was Snowball, the White Wolf that belonged to the Storm Goddess, Astra. She did not take it into battle often, but more than enough people had seen her riding it around for pleasure or taking it on walks to recognise it.

Even if it was just a pet, it was still a minor celebrity in its own right and had started a craze of other people trying to find multi-headed pets or wolf pets.

The crowds, and the Beetle Knights, curiosity came not from the steed but its rider. Naturally they were clad in full armour, befitting a knight, which hid their identity. So it was hard to tell who it was.

But it was clear it was not the Storm Goddess. They were too... small.

So small in fact, that it was almost like he was about to joust against a child.