Chapter 708 – Perfect Weapon Inspection

Chapter 708 – Perfect Weapon Inspection

The day had been wonderfully eventless. Distributing the announcement had gone without a hitch and all reactions (positive and negative) were pretty much exactly like John had predicted. He had a bunch of invitations from news networks asking him to be the first guest on their newly founded podcast format to talk about that. He had only answered the two that had come in a day earlier.

That, and the call with Momo, aside, it had all been a bunch of the usual. Paperwork, meetings, pleasant talks with his girls, email exchanges, some chatting with Maximillian, sex with his girls, more paperwork, making phone calls, a blowjob under the table, lunch break, pussy eating on the table, and yet more paperwork. The hours ticked by in a nice and steady mix of relaxation, minor boredom and intense joy. Exactly the kind of day John wanted right now, one where basically nothing unexpected happened and he just got to exist mellowly.

After working for about ten hours, he left the office and went to the Palace. Not to go and play video games for the rest of the evening, but to get one more three-hour grinding session in before he went to bed. A return to the regular schedule of working and grinding.

“Guess I am a bit early,” John stated, as he and the elementals were still missing the two maids for their full party. As they now had their own obligations, Aclysia and Beatrice weren’t hanging around him all the time. For the latter, he got a mental confirmation that she was on the way already. The weaponized maid, however, was quite a bit away. After having taken care of her immediate organizing duties, Aclysia had gone to Servitude Island to start on her maid academy pet project. Because of that, their mental connection was disrupted.

Not that John was too bothered by any delays. He was going to do one Assault session today and then go to bed. Since tomorrow promised to be quite the relaxed day as well, he could sleep in for a bit. If he even needed that extra sleep, which was doubtful.

With not much else to do, John took a look at his character sheet.

Two levels had been gained since he left the barrier on his birthday. All 14 points had wandered into Intellect. No real changes otherwise. ‘I do have a lot of GP,’ he thought, wondering whether it would be worth it to invest some of them into something. He came up short with anything he could afford and was something he wanted immediately though. Therefore, he decided to just bunker them up for the moment.

Beatrice came into view the moment he closed the window. “Greeting: good evening, Master,” she declared with a bow, once she was in sensible speaking range. With a wave of his fingers, John commanded her to come even closer, just so he could squeeze her butt in his own manner of greeting her.

“I just love today,” he said and then guided her towards the I.D. Gate. Together with the elementals, they got into the dark behind, waiting to be filled with whatever Illusion Barrier John needed today. ‘It’s as good a time as any,’ he thought and then created a standard green plain, like Magoi liked to, as their momentary playing field.

It wasn’t yet late enough that the endlessly stretching green would have been tinted by the black of night. The brunt of the heat and radiance of the sun had eased off, however. It left them in a nice and calm warm on the windless plain, a good time for relaxed experiments.

“Alright,” John clapped his hands together, “let’s see Perfect, about time we get to properly know what your new weapons do.”

“Affirmative, Master,” Beatrice stated, and her hand disappeared into her inventory. After retrieving her new spear, she presented it to John with both hands.

John let his fingers slide over the shaft. It was perfectly smooth, the light beige colour complimented by veins running through it, only slightly darker, almost invisible from even the slightest bit of distance. Those veins formed the outlines of teeth, eye sockets, fingers, skulls and carapaces. ‘Like fossils eternalized in ivory instead of stone,’ the Gamer thought, wondering how that grotesque arm had been worked into this work of art. He gripped it with both arms and lifted it out of his maid’s presenting grasp. “Heavier than I thought,” he noted.

Magic opened many avenues to influencing the properties of metal. Even in mundane reality, metal was a material that could be changed in quite a number of ways. Alloys were among the most basic ones, but the forging and tempering process could change the final product by quite a lot. Famously, the Japanese folded their metal before forging katanas with it, causing it to change on a molecular level.

Introduce enchantments and magical materials to that mix and one could create a vast array of possible outcomes that John had barely looked into. All he knew was that there was a craft to it that people could learn, right up to the degree where so many things influenced each other in such subtle ways that it was anybody’s guess what would happen. As far as John was concerned, magic was simply a science that was poorly understood. One day someone would decipher what caused certain changes, even if it was something as random as the direction the wind was blowing that day.

Until then, John lived in a time where only the most basic things were well explored and everything else was for coming generations to figure out. The reason why all of this went through his head at that moment was because his own expectations for Mithril had been tainted by Lord of the Rings. ‘Light as a feather but hard as dragon scales,’ as Gandalf had put it.

“One would guess I knew better, given the vast discrepancy in dragon scale quality I have encountered in my day alone,” John mumbled as he thrust and whirled Perfect around for a little bit. It had more weight to it than he would have thought. Not enough to be a handicap, though, at least not for him. This wasn’t another Marath situation (or Tiemarath, as it was now called), where he could barely lift the claymore.

The Mithril head, where the weight was concentrated, must have been treated specifically to that end. John was, admittedly, adequate at weapon usage at best, but he understood two things. The heavier a weapon was, the more force its momentum produced and the lighter a weapon was, the easier it was to handle but the sharper it needed to be to compensate.

As such, having a heavier weapon wasn’t a disadvantage. Quite the contrary in many cases. There was an argument to be made that every weapon should be as heavy as possible, while not incapacitating the wearer. It was an extension of the good old ‘slow but heavy’ versus ‘fast but light’ damage argument.

In this regard, Perfect seemed to have struck the middle ground. It was somewhere between Eclys and Marath in weight and John guessed the head to be no less sharp than either, despite its peculiar shape. The lower third of the tip, closest to the shaft, split in a jagged fashion, creating the two shorter sides of an elongated diamond-shape that framed the hollow centre of the blade. On the remaining two thirds, the silver-white blade curved gracefully into the traditional leaf-shape of a spear tip. Black and blue lines ran over the inner rim, Oblivium and Poseidury, respectively.

The scene played out, John throwing a punch at the speed of a normal fistfight. Not slow by mundane margins, but Beatrice side-stepped it without issue. “Result: negative,” she echoed her earlier statement.

“Test three.” John still wasn’t surprised, but he would do himself a disservice if he didn’t try everything. “I will now try to actually punch you. I will not hold back in any way, shape or form... do dodge, understand?” For the sake of research, he would have been willing to hurt her a little bit. Details like this could be key to survival in the future. That didn’t mean he enjoyed hurting his girls though – outside of very specific and consensual ways in the bedroom.

“Affirmative,” Beatrice stated and got ready. Even with John taking a serious swing at her, their Agility difference was too large as that a random punch had any chance of hitting her. He would have needed to surprise her or change the condition of her footing. Ready and on straight ground, Beatrice didn’t even really need to try to twist her shoulder out of the way. “Result: negative,” she said for the third time.

“Okay, so the cheese shields are standing in the regards to friendly fire,” John summarized with a sour expression. “Bit annoying, but I guess that’s how it is. Next Attribute to inspect, Crescendo.” He raised his hand and let Purgatory switch forms from the armguard into the dragon claw. “Test one, I want you to, very softly, hit my palm with Perfect’s blunt end.”

Beatrice took a little bow to signal her understanding, then whirled the weapon around and tapped John on the palm. “Result: positive,” she stated. “Emotion: surprise.”

“Well, that makes two of us,” John answered and lowered his hand. “I expected it to either not work at all or only if it dealt at least a fair amount of damage to someone. Hmm.” He stroked his chin with his not-clawed hand. “Okay, short follow-up test. I want you to cut me – but only barely.”

“...Affirmative...” Beatrice answered in a hesitating fashion, turned the proper tip towards him and then thrust above his head. “Result: positive,” she stated.

“...You didn’t hit me,” John stated with furrowed, confusedly raised eyebrows.

“Incorrect,” stated the passive maid, taking a leisurely pose. “Do you wish to hear the details, Master?” Smelling a trap, John slowly nodded regardless. Beatrice took a long breath in and then rattled down a long series of words, “Report: Since my creation 121 days ago, to be more detailed, since my first stirring of personality thereafter, I have always felt something was off about your look, Master. It was a continuous source of irking. I could not identify it, but it was minor. I ignored it like the mismatched flower pot in the Guild Bank’s third corridor. With my raised Mental Stats, I have been able to realize the source of that irking. Reason: you had a singular strand of hair that was longer than the rest. Conclusion: I just cut it.”

“Ah... okay.” John ordered that info in and drew his conclusions. Not before he asked something that he really shouldn’t have. “What’s wrong with that flower pot by the way? I made sure we only brought in blue ones.”

“Affirmative, the colours match. Correction: all flowerpots in the Guild Bank have white rectangles as their rim decoration. The one in the third corridor has squares.”

“...Fantastic, now I know it and won’t be able to unsee it...” John already felt the regret settle in. “We’ll have that fixed whenever it starts driving me insane. Back to the point, one more test. Hit me softly, then hit Gnome softly and tell me exactly when you feel the original magic being lost.”

Two taps and an adorable rock squealing from being poked later, Beatrice reported. “Result: magic was lost upon contact with Gnome’s body.”

“Alright, we know three things now,” John stated. He counted with the fingers of his left hand, one clawed tip raising with each point made. “One, no matter how narrow a hit, a hit is a hit. As long as some piece of worn equipment or body part is hit, it’s enough. Two, Crescendo stacks are gained even if you don’t deal damage to the target. Three, we can do at least a minor Reckoning Bomb.”

“Reckoning Bomb?” Beatrice tilted her head quizzically. “Request: clarify terminology.”

John narrowed his eyes for a moment. “You should know already, at least roughly. You got most of my gaming knowledge when you were made.” He leaned forward to stare into her emerald eyes. “This is you pulling an Aclysia and just getting me to talk, isn’t it?”

Beatrice shifted her gaze to the side. “Certain characteristics remain maintained, following your emergency copy of her memories into me,” she explained herself with a straight face. “Truthful statement: regardless of rough knowledge, details elude me. I would prefer certainty in knowledge over sureness in assumption.”

With a smile, John placed a quick kiss on her lips and then straightened back up. “Lucky for you that I love explaining things to you,” he stated. “Reckoning was a passive in Vanilla World of Warcraft that made it so that, whenever a paladin was critically hit, they gained a stack that would make their next attack hit one extra time. The joke: it could stack an infinite amount of times, without expiration, so people eventually figured out to hit a paladin with a trash tier weapon for hours on end so an absurd amount of stacks could be built. They would then proceed to one-shot some sort of boss.”

“Limitations: stacks disappear upon hitting a secondary target. Time limit. Stack limit,” Beatrice reminded him.

“Sure, but this still means we can, with enough preparation time, buff you to 100% bonus Agility for the first strike of a fight. I think that’s pretty good,” John explained. “Fringe application, but I would rather have some cheese than no cheese.”

The Gamer loved cheese.