There were two days left before the tournament's start, so I was on my way to the Stone Cauldron camp to fetch my formal participation permit.
A bunch of time had passed, in other words.
Most of it, I'd spent agonizing over the details of my new look. Mannerisms, bodily structure, clothing, and so much more.
Truthfully, I'd vastly underestimated how difficult changing my entire appearance would be.
First and foremost, of course, came the clothing; only took me a single day to put a proper outfit together.
Heh, that much is to be expected from a genius like myself.
I got all giddy and prideful at the time, but the joy was short lived; clothes - as it turned out - were by far the easiest step.
After all, my experience in weaving fibers into all sorts of unusual shapes was unmatched, and I had more than enough fabric to experiment with.
My fabric of choice was all that stuff I bought from the shady store. It was in rough condition, as was to be expected given the price.
Anyways, I completely unfurled the garments down to their very fibers and wove them into a beautifully vibrant, red dress.
The cheap, gold paint covered earrings were put to good use as well.
Made them into a fancy hairpiece to complete my feminine disguise. Beautifully done, if I say so myself.
Naturally, I scraped the shitty gold paint clean off, which revealed a pretty nice copper sheen beneath.
For the finishing touches, I reshaped my flexible, skintight boots into a pair of overly high heeled shoes.
Really had me questioning how girls could stomach wearing something so damn uncomfortable for the entire day…
Eh, I'll get used to it. Probably.
As far as clothing went, that was it. A bit tough, but nothing outrageously difficult.
Cannot say the same for the physical modifications, though, but more on that later.
Just recalling the details made me wanna sigh, nevermind the brain numbing process of actually working on them.
Let's do this.
Right now, I had a certain bird nosed commander to surprise with my new look.
***
Just under two weeks ago, Garran's position as a commander with a flawless track record was heavily shaken.
It 'just so happened' that, on the one day that Garran sent one of his promising upstarts and a unit of non combatants on a scouting mission, they were met with an ambush.
But he understood an indisputable fact - such coincidences didn't just happen.
Somebody within his camp must've leaked that information, most likely to undermine Garran's firm position within Stone Cauldron's command chain.
And, while finding the rat amongst his underlings was of utmost importance, Garran simply could not split his already divided attention and time any further.
"Haaah, and who's to blame for my lack of time, other than that unhinged kid?"
The kid, Ori… His intervention was incredibly timely. Suspiciously so.
If not for Ori's help, Garran would've never found out what happened to his unit; obviously, he would've also had to wave goodbye to the Commander position for leading the brave warriors to their deaths with nothing to show for it.
Unfortunately, the kid's appearance was not exclusively a positive one, even while keeping in mind his outwardly heroic deed.
On the day he showed up, Stone Cauldron's camp was flipped on its head; and how could it not have?
A stranger appeared on the doorstep with not a soul to back him up, and to top it off - he came with one of Stone Cauldron's own carts.
Naturally, the men on guard duty attempted to subdue the suspicious kid, which ended in utter defeat.
No, that wasn't quite the case. Rather than defeat, he seemed to have threatened the guards with some form of intangible force. From the reports, Garran assumed it must've been a type of sorcery… He quickly realized something much more sinister was at play, though, after personally sharing a conversation.
Something about the kid, about Ori, was deeply unsettling. The look in his eyes, the utter carelessness over his own safety, and worst of all - the layers upon layers of lies mixed into his words.
Garran couldn't quite put his finger on anything concrete, but it didn't take a genius to see how little effort Ori was putting into his poorly concocted background or the falsehood behind the supposed reasons for his actions.
It's almost as if Ori openly challenged me to dare digging into his background…
And then, there was 'That' person. The one who ruled a powerful syndicate from the shadows; he payed Garran's camp a visit only a day after Ori departed do work on some undisclosed 'preparations', whatever they were.
*Sigh*
The commander let out yet another tired exhale, gaze directed towards the slit in his tent's veil.
Sunlight seeped through the gaps, making his bloodshot eyes ache in refusal to stay open.
Another sleepless night… At this rate, I might just kick the bucket due to bad health long before the enemies's forces get to me.
Still, it wasn't like he had much of a choice. Sometimes, a man just had to flip through pages of tedious paperwork instead of catching up on rest. That, too, was part of his duties.
At least there was a light at the end of the tunnel, hopefully in a figurative sense as blinding lights seemed rather unappealing to his exhausted self:
For all his big talk, the kid never did return.
With only two days left before the tournament's opening, it appeared that Ori either got cold feet or, perhaps, ended up tangled in something else entirely.
At the end of the day, the details never mattered. What did matter was…
"He's not coming back!!"
Garran raised a fist high, letting out a victorious shout in celebration of this amazing turn of events.
Fate spared me from the scary bastard. Ahh, how fortuna-
*Flutter*
"Commander, Sir!"
"…"
The commander's face scrunched up when one of the guards suddenly burst into the tent, panting from clearly having sprinted all the way here to portray something urgent.
I should've kept my mouth shut.
Garran spoke in a defeated voice, already coming to terms with the reality of this cruel world:
"Did Ori return?"
"Ori..? Ah, that kid? He's still not back, as far as I'm aware."
"…The Black Lake Syndicate, then?"
"No, Sir."
"Huh? Who else would warrant such an intense reaction?"
Now utterly stumped, Garran directed a confused look towards the guard.
As if unsure how to answer the question, the guard awkwardly twirled his fingers for a couple seconds before reluctantly opening his mouth:
"Umm, I'm not really sure how to explain it. Commander, Sir! It might be better if go you see her for yourself."
'Her?' I don't think any specific woman is meant to show up any time soon, unless it's one of the higher-ups.
Suddenly overtaken by an ominous premonition, Garran tiredly stood up with a grunt before quickly fixing his expression in case a higher-up really did come.
His steps remained steady, but his heart was anything but. If anything, he was verging on a cardiac arrest from all the accumulated stress.
***
I came here with one goal - to cause a scene. Or, well, that was my method of choice; the goal was to have a face to face chat with Birdnose.
And sure enough, the Stone Cauldron guys came pouring in like a flood as soon as I let a little pressure out, but…
Something's really damn off putting about these men.
I couldn't help but furrow my brows in disgust, for reasons beyond my comprehension.
Stepping over yet another unconscious Stone Cauldron guard, I moved deeper into the camp.
I suppose it's a good thing nobody's recognizing me, but why the hell are they reacting like this while getting beaten up?
Their weird, almost happy expressions, repulsed me.
Well, whatever. As long as I don't accidentally kill anyone, I can punch em however hard I wish, right? After all, what's a fight with a weirdo or ten for a genius young master - no, beautiful young lady - like myself?