MoPako System

The day of the festival had come and the boy already felt tired. Of course, who wouldn't be looking forward to this annual important holiday? He was the same, too. Yet, every year he'd get his expectations up and every year it was dashed. After all, the boy only spent the three-day festival without doing anything. Watching became a chore.

As everyone's spirits soared as the delicate lanterns garlanded with a flower bloom hanging by every household's and stores' main doors, Mettel, with his eyebags, was alone. Erick did say he should just loosen up and become a kid—join a game or two. But how was he supposed to do that?

Firstly, the games of the first day were mostly for older people and not for 11 years olds like him: Capture the Lost Flag, Hill Defense, Tug of War, and the Mystical Relic Hunt. All games requiring a team. He wasn't good at talking to people…

Though he said all that, there are mini games for the children and elderly as well. A party dance off, a normal version of the relic hunt using ordinary items, an eating contest, the who-can-hold-their-voice-the-longest game, and indoor board games. Mettel simply wasn't interested in any of them.

There was one last event, however, that was yet to begin: LandScape Rush. Clearly, hundreds of people alone were clamoring about to get to outside town to witness the start of the race.

'Erick was participating in that event, didn't he?' Mettel thought.

Should he go watch too? But it would be too crowded on the spectator path. He hesitated, struggling on over what to do, seeing as his caretakers weren't here to take him away somewhere else—Litney busy helping her store—he simply sat on the fountain by the square, merely observing the passer-goers. That was when he got disturbed.

A boy with yellow-ish black hair and rich brown skin with an expensive vibrant tunic, common pants and leather shoes was running by in a hurry. He was about to pass by when he saw Mettel.

'Uh oh, this is trouble.' The boy came up to him, puffing and sweating.

"Hey Mettel, why aren't you joining the festival?" No hesitation in his voice, no malice—simply a curious look on his face. Mettel had a hard time answering him, partly because he's lazy. Mostly he didn't know how to deal with a friendly boy of his age.

"Because he doesn't want to, Cevian." Someone spoke from behind. a black-haired boy with a glum color in his face. His eyes were a black lake's. Raynel, an orphan like him. Cevian looked back at him.

"Huh uh. That's a lie, isn't it? No one would miss watching LandScape Rush—it's the most popular exciting sport of the continent! Two teams of people with their tamed beasts' companions, racing against each other with unique sorts of Tezhe and 2nd stage monster abilities, what more one could ask for? Especially in a frontier town with so many veteran hunters?"

"For starters, you could stop spitting on my face. Secondly, it's not the most popular sport nor is it the most exciting. Imagine masses of sweaty shouting people pushing each other to watch, blocking the short and unlucky people's view most of the time. Thirdly, Midling Catch Arena is better—in all objective accounts."

"Says who!? I agree that Midling Catch is great, but it doesn't compare to—" Just then a loud announcement boomed out from the western side of the town. It was the start of the race. Cevian went wide-eyed.

"Oh come on! We're late, come on Raynel and you too Mettel!"

"H-huh? Why me?" Mettel asked, which Cevian ignored. Or he may not have heard at all. This is exactly why he didn't want to deal with Cevian—though he's the most popular kid, Mettel's energy was constantly being drained around him. Raynel gazed sympathetically at him.

It was only one year ago that he met Cevian, and a few months later Raynel. Perhaps that's why they weren't particularly unfriendly towards him. If they had been around in his first year at this town…

The church bell echoed, as if resonating with his protesting thoughts. It was a bright afternoon right before the sun set, and the boy with white hair didn't realize he was secretly enjoying being dragged around. For all his misgivings with the festival, perhaps he may finally make friends.

...

Inside the church, where a few people were praying by the pews, a nun with a pale face and thin lips was amidst them. Praying as well. An ambiance of unapproachable solemnity surrounded her pristine dark habit.

At the front of the hall stood a magnificent robed statue holding a staff, a sacred air emanating from it. Though the statue's face could not be seen, its making was of the highest work. It is undetermined whether the statue was a male or female.

The nun continued her prayer until she felt a tap on the shoulder. 

"Sister Jess, I apologize for the interruption." A young man with a simple cotton tunic spoke to her, calmly, even under the stoic gaze of the nun.

"It's alright, I was just about to finish. What is it?"

"It's Miss Litney. She asks you to take of Mettel for the time being. She's worried about Mettel being lost in the town. I would have done it myself but you're the closest in age and relation with the boy amongst the church people, including me."

"Litney too busy helping out in her bakery shop, I suppose?" Jess asked. The young man shook his head.

"Nah, she's patrolling the town perimeters. It's the LandScape Rush event today."

"Ahh, that was today? I thought it was tomorrow."

"It got replaced, since tomorrow, Mayor Gathos is returning to town. Planning to celebrate with the townspeople for the birth of his youngest daughter—he'll be hosting a charity fair for the orphans of the invasion. A fun performance would be held or like so and such something." Said the young man with a weird look. Jess nodded to herself.

"Alright then. The only thing I had to do was cleaning the confession cells anyway. I'll do it." The man smiled sheepishly with a thanks and was about to go away when Jess continued, "By the by Quin, you say you can't be friends with the boy, always using that excuse to Master Hartold, but I reckon you will be great friends with him. You two are alike in so many ways." Quin scratched his head.

"Then even more the reason we can't be close. At that age, I hated people, generally. My younger brother, Raynel, would have better chances to being friends. Though he's an unfriendly-looking kid, he's kinder than most."

"You're proud of your younger brother I see. Ah, you said something about a performance, what was that about?" Quin crossed his arms.

"Second-hand information from my friend. Apparently, it's a travelling group of performers, an illustrious well-known at that, who's going to be performing here. One of their leading performers is a hunter."

"I see, what's the name of this group?"

"Wanderer's Troupe." Jess gazed narrowly in thought. She can't recall any names like that.

"I am not surprised you haven't heard of them when you've been stuck cooped up here in the church."

"Ahem. Excuse me, I have to go look for the boy with white hair. I must see you later." Then she went away, leaving Quin behind.

"Man, she still is scary to be around with." Muttered Quin.

....

"Hurry hurry you slowpokes, the first complete lap is around the corner!" Cevian shouted as he went on ahead of the three. The hill around the area was large enough to accommodate hundreds of people, with makeshift spectator seats settled and some with picnics. Though those with the picnics were on higher vantage points. Those below, like the one Mettel and the others were, had a steel boundary separating the race track valley below.

The sun was glaring up in the sky, the wind blowing from the eastern high mountains to the western plateaus. The town of Gathos was several minutes by main road away. With the three children having actively ran, they were all puffing large gulps of breath.

At that moment, a group of dots appeared in the distance with a dust and smoke plumes emerging behind them. Small at first, gradually becoming larger until the leading racer—no, two leading racers could be seen. The people cheered loudly as they pumped their fists into the air. The announcer with his amplifier mic screamed.

"Woahh! It's Erick and Tryndale neck and neck in the lead! With Velocidon Almahline and Auronis Paísrend, respectively and relatively unscathed! They're going at it super hard, neither giving more than half a step lead. And with the first lap just around the corner, the two contenders are spurring to get their first advantage rune. Behind them are their teams still wrestling against the other. Yet!" Just as the announcer said that, a group of people on two sides of the valley pulled down on a lever, revealing pits and potholes that were covered by a camouflaged layer. That wasn't all, they let down several large boulders down the slope.

For the air, a spell brought forth wind arrows in the air and was sent hurling through the skies. Hundreds of them. Along with the small thunder currents lashing out from flying nimbus clouds, and heavy, large snow hail pelting around carried by continuous breezes—the sky was perhaps arguably more dangerous than the land.

"Hey, isn't that dangerous?" One spectator asked.

"No worries, all the racers are experienced hunters. Their bodies tough enough to handle them even if they make a mistake." Another replied.

"Let's see how will they fare against this obstruction!" The announcer continued. Cevian yelled in excitement to add onto the chorus of several yells and stomps. Other kids had already approached them, Cevian to be exact, to cheer alongside.

"Curses, I know this was a bad idea. This event is too, oof – can't see anything at all! And this is way too dangerous, what if we get hit by a stray projectile?" Mettel felt the same way as Raynel. Yet, the two got helplessly dragged by Cevian's hands forward, just in time as the two leading racers successfully passed the first lap. The ground shook, dust 'n bits and pieces of everything flew away from their beasts' rapid marching.

"Don't worry!" Cevian shouted.

"We're protected by a protection spell rune, look, see there? It's invisible but its blocking anything larger than a pebble out." Mettel looked and saw that was the case. Though he's been here for a few years, it was clear he never watched a LandScape Rush before. How much aether mana and how complex does it have to be to cover such a large area with such precision? He thought.

"The pressure is on! The rivalry between these two is so thick you can literally taste it in the air, can you taste it? Sniff Sniff. It has the flavor of fire and dust, cough!"

"Stop being weird in the head, do your job properly as an announcer come on."

"But I am doing my job, look, Tryndale is about to get the first rune and—he got it! Let's see what kind of effect he's going to get—wait? Who is right on their tails? They're being super quick even with a Cervalis Muruwind."

"A dark horse contender? She's the youngest racer of the group, wait let me check the list.

"She's rapidly gaining on Erick and Tryndale, just who is she?"

Moments earlier….

"Hahahaha! You eatin' the dust today, Tryndale!" Erick propelled his Velocidon forward with a shout and a kick, the quadrupedal beast lunging at its top speed. Tryndale, silent and calm, never lost sight of the hidden traps going forward. Just then, the race organizers released all the obstructions prepared for the first lap.

Erick dodged deftly through the potholes and the boulders, the Velocidon crushing small boulders underfoot, never stopping. Tryndale, for his part, stayed on course. Instead, his Auronis launched a gust of strong wind that repelled the projectiles. The two appeared exactly even but Tryndale was slightly ahead.

When they crossed the first lap, the two of them sensed someone from behind coming up.

"Erick, just who is that girl?" Tryndale asked even as he instantly dispatch the random blindflash rune on the direction of Erick. Erick simply deflected it with a flick of a whip, answering:

"Dunno, I only know her name and that she only 15. Crazy talented, I know, might hafta get serious if we wanna keep our undefeated champions status, hah!" Erick dodged a sudden pit that collapsed from the race track.

"Interesting. To think she acquired the trust of a beast that young…" The two continued on ahead with a sudden burst of speed, furthering the gap between them and the girl. And the girl…

"Argh, these two old geezers still have some juice? What is their beast made up of, anyway? Aren't they just 2nd Stage Monsters too?" The girl with the rust-colored pixie undercut with a pair of long bangs on either side, patted her beast companion.

"Cer, think you can keep up for the next two laps?" The silver-skinned deer with wings and a tail snorted with a head flick, crushing a stray snow pellet. The girl could hear the mass of people's shouts and the enthusiastic shouting of the announcers cheering. No one was paying attention to her at first, which was good, but now, they're directed at her.

"Arwen! Arwen! Arwen!"

 "Hagh! People are going to be asking for my autographs after this…!" Arwen had her conflicting thoughts about this. Nevertheless, the cheering burned a brighter fire in her chest. Her movements became sharper and heavier as she blocked any projectiles coming her way. Her balance was impeccable even as she stood on top of Cer.

Yet, try as she might, Arwen never surpassed the two geezers in front of her for the next two laps. Although it was a team battle of six people, she seriously chased for the first position. That frustrated her quite enough to blow a fuse.

Arwen gulped massive air into her lungs as she laid, when Erick, the second-place contender, came up to her with a bottle of water."

"Heya girl. You crazy good. Good fight, good fight. Seriously, where'd you learn all that moves? You were slick as a fish in water!" Arwen accepted the bottle of water, grumpily, and finished it within two seconds.

"Self-taught. Ain't telling ya where'd I get my Cer, though."

"Of course, no one is idiotic enough to share every secret unlike buffoon here." Tryndale, with his cool hunter armor—a set of cuirasses, greaves, vambraces, with a leather vest underneath—that somehow remained dashing, came over with a towel by his hand.

"Hey, it's called bein' charismatic. If ya share your secret, no matter how small, others would be inclined to share theirs too." Tryndale offered an extra towel to Arwen, which puzzled her enough.

"I can see you're from the outskirts, with the way you dress. What's your name? My name is Tryndale Velstone."

"… Arwen. Just Arwen." She took the towel and wiped off the sweat. With the way she looked? What does that mean? Sure, she could be a lil bit rough around the edges with her rough skin, her clothes being a ragged regular hunter's leather attire, but she shouldn't look that shabby. Her hairstyle is super cool, to boot.

"Your friend," Tryndale gestured to the resting giant deer, "She's a good Cervalis." Hearing that, Arwen beamed.

"Yeah, definitely. She's the coolest Monster ever. I wouldn't trade her for another, but how'd you know she's a she?"

"Experience." Tryndale succinctly replied.

The racing event concluded officially as the two teams completed the race. The announcers hastily attempted to corner Tryndale for an interview, but he'd already disappeared. Instead, they settled for Erick with his off-the-bat non-stop yapping. To his credit, it made everyone entertained with his quips. Eventually, the event host presented the championship prize—which was a ticket of 10 silver coins and a trinket artifact. A small pocket watch imbued with the spell formula of something called Time-Dilation. Arwen gazed at the stage and left off a tired sigh.

"What makes you sigh so? Third place, though I don't see it as such and better yet view it as a group effort, is praiseworthy enough to be complimented nothing short of excellence." Tryndale spoke to her from behind, which spooked her.

"Ah, aren't you supposed to be up there?" Tryndale shook his head, then he continued.

"I have an offer for you. Would you like to take up on a scouting mission? Preferably, I would hire you as a trainee hunter, but that goes through several tedious channels and procedures at the moment which are unnecessary. Initial reward of 50 bronze, the complete reward nets 150. Equivalent to a total of 20 silver, if you so prefer. What do you say?" Arwen's eyes blinked for three times, closing her mouth and opening it.

"For how long? And where?"

"Dajien Highlands. Western perimeter of around 200 meters around the canyons. Travel takes one day on foot and few hours with a Monster companion. 2 days of scouting. You start tomorrow."

"Deal." Arwen immediately accepted and shook his hands with a gleam on her eye. The two went further away to a comfortable place to iron the details.

On the far sides of the crowd below the hill and just next to forests, stood a person cloaked with a muddy undertone and a barely visible insignia by the chest. There were several others around him yet they don't pay him any attention.

"She seems promising. Never thought I'd find a promising Monster Raider here." Then another person spoke from beside them, without warning.

"Yep, but it looks like Tryndale already hired the girl. Always so fast and direct, like a true lightning user. He's actually worse back in our hunting days, never thinking about others, could you believe it?" A girl clothed in ranger attire sat hunchback by the tree branch, a twin dagger right by her hips and a rifle on her back. She was looking over with a hand over her eyes.

The cloaked figure turned towards her, and vanished on the spot the next moment. A slight curve wryly appeared on Litney's lips.

"And you're also too serious about skulkin' around. You're already discovered anyway." She whistled a tune as she returned deeper into the mountain forest.