Rest day. The only day without combat, yet it felt the most nerve-wracking.
I sat quietly on our dry, warm patch of land. My children formed a circle around me, trying not to make a sound. Their eyes reflected both excitement and worry.
> "Today, no combat training," I said softly. "We're experimenting. Titan Stench must evolve."
My hand—or rather, the shadowy hand of Titan Stench—slowly extended from my body. This time, I didn't form it to fight, but held it in a dense fog-like state, like living black sludge.
> "Titan Stench isn't just a giant hand. It can become anything I shape… if I know how."
I closed my eyes and focused. Slowly, two Titan Stench hands formed. But this time, I forced the energy downward—beneath my body—where legs should be.
**BRRRZZZZHHH...**
The ground beneath me trembled. The stinky fog began to form solid stumps like short pillars under my shell.
> "Dad... are those legs?!" Abu asked with echoing curiosity.
> "Not yet. But... close."
I tried standing on them. The result… was absurd. My body stood upright for about two seconds—like an egg on sticks—then collapsed with a loud *thump!* that echoed across the area.
> "Hahaha! Dad looks like a wobbly streetlamp!" Cimut laughed, rolling around.
Belang suggested, "If not legs... try a weapon first. Might be easier."
I nodded. Alright then.
New focus: weapon formation. Titan Stench's energy gathered in my right hand, and I spun it into a spiral.
> "Become... a spear?"
The result was something resembling a spear. A little bent, overwhelmingly smelly, and each movement sent out black particles like soot from an old exhaust pipe.
> "Not bad. But not sharp enough."
Oyen stepped forward. "Try using my fire element!"
I absorbed a little of Oyen's energy (with permission, of course), and Titan Stench began to tremble. The black spear hissed, then changed color: from pitch black to a reddish-black, like rotting embers.
> *Titan Stench Spear of Rotten Flame.*
Not elegant, but definitely terrifying.
I tried stabbing a rock. It didn't just crack—it melted slightly… and smelled like burnt old shoes.
Putih commented flatly, "If enemies can smell that from fifty meters away… they'll surrender before the fight starts."
We laughed together. But I knew this wasn't just for laughs. Titan Stench was evolving. Slowly but surely.
---
That night, we rested under the faint moonlight. My children were already asleep in a circle around me, like a warm nest of eggs.
I stared at the sky, speaking softly:
> "Tomorrow, the quarterfinals begin. Only eight remain. I… am one of them."
The Govart City Tournament, once filled with hundreds of contestants, was now down to the Final Eight.
Eight of the strongest, smartest, or… strangest monsters.
> And among them, there's me.
The spiky rotten egg.
The one they think is just a golem.
But I'll show them all… that even stench can become a legend.