Since the start of the Barraks Cup, the management of Floating Air has been through an exciting and downright stressful time. The usual chaos of organizing reached its peak when the first half-demon appeared among the competitors.
Mark, the deputy director of Floating Air Barraks, was not as disturbed by the presence of the creature as most of those present. However, his days have recently consisted of trying to reassure crowds of people that they need not fear the Onegod has not abandoned their people, the demon have been dealt with and are no longer a threat to anyone, and so on.
So it is easy to say that he was very tired of this whole situation, which was not helped by the fact that in addition to the problems related to the Cup, he also had to deal with the management of Floating Air Barracks, because as usual, Director Weruh did not do his job and left everything to his deputy.
That is why, when he noticed an unknown figure on the school grounds this morning during his rounds, his first thought was that he would kill the unfortunate man, at least he would have something to relieve his nerves. And the only thing that stopped him from this plan was that he quickly discovered that the stranger was not alone.
"I don't want to interfere in your business, but..." Mark spoke up as he grabbed one of the strange man's shoulder from behind. As a result of his actions, he received a dagger to his throat. However, the deputy director of Floating Air did not flinch at the sudden threat, he just raised his gloved right hand and pressed the blade from his throat with his index finger. "As I said, I don't want to interfere, I asume you are here for a reason, but you are too conspicuous and disturbing the peace of the students, so I must ask you to leave the school grounds." He said in a calm voice.
"We are leaving now." The stranger nodded and hurried down the hallway, causing Mark to sigh heavily.
"I bet they're newbies." He rolled his eyes, only to then go and fetch his useless director from God knows where, because that man was never where he was supposed to be. "Santi!" Mark shouted to the priest hurrying across the courtyard, who turned back to him in surprise, his features quickly contorting into a smile.
"How can I help you, Mark?" The question came as the young man clasped his hands behind his back.
"Do you happen to know where my lazy boss is?" He asked, craning his neck, and his words made the future preacher chuckle.
"As a matter of fact, I'm just coming from him. He's in the kitchen." The young man nodded in the right direction.
"Thank you." The deputy director of Floating Air nodded, then hurried towards the kitchens, where he gathered the director and dragged him to the arena. As on all previous competition days, today they took their seats in the grandstand and planned to conduct the competition from there. This wouldn't have been such a bad idea in itself, but nothing goes as easily as one imagines.
"Another one?" The cold question came from Weruh's mouth.
"Again?" The question came out of Mark at the same moment. It was then that the two men noticed that half of the finalists were not human again.
"I'm starting to feel like someone is fucking with me." The director grumbled. "Humans usually shouldn't see another one, this soon after each other." He hissed between his teeth.
"As you say." Mark agreed, then blew out a big breath. "Leave this to me." He announced, but he did not move from his place.
Just as the two most important people of the Flying Air Barracks, the Athamanas and the Isháns of the Immortal Mist also noticed that Rahul's opponent was no ordinary man and were just thinking about finding Tele Tete to stop the duel, when a snow-white fog covered the arena, obscuring all movement in it. The Athamanas only saw their comrade and opponent because they were with none other than the Isháns of the Immortal Mist.
"That was a very smart move." Suk noted, looking at Kamu.
"Yes, the only problem is that it wasn't done by one of us." The ghost-man's hands clenched into fists and a murderous fire appeared in his eyes.
"But isn't this the..." The Zovárd boy began.
"This is exactly that, the secret technique of the Mist and it is used by someone who is not one of us." Ajtony, who was sitting next to Kamu, said in a murderous tone and looked at his friend, then they both nodded.
When the mist covered the arena, Director Weruh, who was sitting in the grandstand, literally opened his mouth and even leaned on the railing, hoping that he could lean forward and see better what was happening in front of him.
"How do you know the techniques of the Immortal Mist?" The director turned to Mark, still confused, who just raised his left eyebrow and folded his hands in front of him.
"How do you know it is the technique of the Immortal Mist?" The deputy director asked back, to which Weruh grimaced.
"What do you think?" He asked the ironic question, which made Mark roll his eyes.
"I shouldn't have asked." He lowered his head and looked at the arena.
"So?" The question came, but Mark didn't look at his boss, he just watched as the daimon summoned by the Koál boy finished off the demon.
"There are things you don't need to know." He finally shrugged and turned to Weruh. "Go, announce the winner before the crowd panics." He said calmly.
"Okay, but only to avoid the crowd panic. Don't think you'll get away with this conversation." The director jabbed his index finger at Mark before rushing down to the arena to announce the winner of the competition in front of everyone.
Mark watched indifferently as Koál Rahul, who had been declared the winner, ran towards the exit, then after another deep breath, turned around and set off to supervise the safe evacuation of the arena. At an event of this size, one cannot be too careful, so he thought it best to keep an eye on certain things himself. At least he didn't have to watch Weruh until then.
The complete evacuation of the arena took a good half hour and although theoretically everyone had already left, Mark felt it would be a good idea to go through everything again, just to be safe. That's why he first walked around the auditorium, then the corridors and finished the circuit in the arena, from where he could see everything.
"Good evening, sir." Someone called out from behind him, and Mark turned to the stranger in red.
"Good evening. The competition is over, I have to ask you to leave." The deputy director said in a calm voice.
"I'm not here for the competition." The figure who had been smiling kindly until then became serious. "I need to talk to you."
"This doesn't seem like a simple conversation to me, if it were, I wouldn't be surrounded." Mark raised his hands to his head, as if he had surrendered.