The Alpha's Blind Fate
Chapter 286: The Bastard

Chapter 286: The Bastard

MOON

The modalities of the second tournament was set, and over seven hundred contestants waited with bated breath at the waiting arena for when it would still struck eight in the night.

One would wonder if His Majesty, the Alpha King had a fondness for night competitions and such, but the contestants were yet to understand that the night setting was a test in itself.

Something sinister lingered in the air. Something that had been notably absent during the first tournament which had required team work. Now, hostility hung in the air, each man looking at the other as the true enemy.

Marcus DireWolf, Beta of the DireWolf Pack appeared at the arena and made it clear that the tournament would kick off first with the test of Mirror which the Night Mages so happened to be in charge of. Thereafter would be the Labyrinth test which the Masqueraders were in charge of, then the room of whispers which the Tiger Wolf will be in charge of.

Then the combat proper would be overseen by the Alpha King himself and his small council at the Castle’s tournament square.

The rules of the tournament were glaringly so simple that it raised quite a few hackles as to whether the three tests were simple, or if there could be some hidden agenda behind them.

The news posters declared that to pass each test, all one had to do was come out of the test arena on their two legs. It sounded so ridiculous, and yet everyone who was already familiar with His Majesty’s shrewdness dared not to declare the test to be a simple one.

However the quite cocky participants were of the mind that the tests were only wasting precious time that could have been channeled into the combat proper. They wouldn’t be caught dead thinking twice about the ridiculous so-called Legend Of the Great Beast Wolf and the three things he had to conquer to reach nirvana.

And there was someone like Yaren NorthSteed, who stood at a recluse corner at the waiting arena, buried in his thoughts. He wasn’t exactly oblivious to the hate-filled stares and murderous glances that were shot his way, but he had always been very good at playing ignorant to such things.

"Bastard," a descendant of the former Delta House, Darph NorthSilver, drawl even, a roll of wrapped smoke in between his lips while five of his cronies followed behind him.

Yaren all but acted as though he heard him, his posture remaining the same against the pillar post he was leaning on.

Darph approached him until barely an inch separated them. He was shorter than Yaren so he looked up, blowing his smoke on the other man’s face in a lewd manner.

"Do not tell me you believe you would make it to the last tournament, bastard?" Darph drawled while his cronies dissolved into mocking laughter.

Yaren might as well have been stone for he never showed a bit of reaction. His brown eyes though were on the other man as if assessing the extent of his stupidity.

Darph wasn’t done yet. The man who was a bit shorter than Yaren but quite stocky flexed his muscles. "As the future Beta of the Arctic North, I shall make you a good offer. Voluntary resign from this tournament now that some of your pride is still intact, if not I shall ask that you start practicing your walk of shame."

Yaren tilted his face to the side, his eyes coolly assessing the other man with an air of nonchalance. He had become used to men like Darph ever since he was a child, and he knew well that indulging him in exchange of words would be doing him a favour.

There was only one way that Yaren was interested to talk, and that was with his fist. Unfortunately for Darph, Yaren was conserving his strength for worthwhile things hence he wasn’t interested in putting the man down a notch. He would have ample chance for revenge during the combat proper.

However, it wasn’t just Darph that was interested in Yaren. Basil NorthClaw of the Enforcer House approached him as well with ten of his cronies behind him. Golden haired, possessing a bone chilling smile and eyes that served as evidence of the dreadful things that he had done, Basil was a man that Yaren hated with every fibre of his being.

And that hatred was one that started to take root ever since he was all but five.

He had many thing to thank Daemon for, but one of them was especially for saving him from the hand of the dreadful boy who was now the man that stood before him.

Yaren stood upright from the pillar he was leaning on, staring Basil dead in his dead eyes. As far as psychos went, the man took the lead. Not like Yaren feared him anymore.

"I was wondering why there was a gathering here," Basil spoke with a chuckle, "turns out the centre of attention is my bastard cousin who prides himself for being favoured by the Alpha King."

Yaren didn’t speak, instead his eyes went to a distant but distinct familiar figure that was approaching them.

"You still do not talk I see." Basil said, clicking his tongue, "I mean you’re older now, don’t tell me you’re still missing your bitch of a mother."

Yaren stilled as if he was doused in ice water, his dark brown eyes flaring open like the coming to life of dying embers.

Basil grinned disgustingly, knowingly well that he had just nailed a sore spot. He craved the attention that was now on him, and his ears perked up for Yaren’s anger that was sure to descend on him.

The plan was simple on their side. They had conspired to beat the shit out of Yaren until he probably passed out, or better still, died.

Yaren’s balled his hands into a tight, shaking fist while he glared at Basil, lethally calculating how many minutes it would take him to take out the man who had clearly underestimated his strength.

Before he could take any action though, the figure that he earlier sighted was now upon them, and it was none other than the Red Hand Fionna.