Chapter 177: Delicious in Delve

Chapter 177: Delicious in Delve

Guar had an entire kitchen in his inventory. Not just a camp cookout kitchen, either. The man pulled out an entire wood-fired stove, a six-foot length of stainless steel cabinets topped with a prep counter, a wall covered in hooks and hanging cooking implements, a water cistern with a rotary pump, and a three-stage commercial sink for cleanup. He also laid out a lovely handwoven rug made of natural, stain-resistant fibers and placed a cozy kitchen table atop it.

Guar manned the stove, beginning to boil water in a large pot and getting a bit of oil going in a cast iron skillet. Cezil pulled out a selection of fresh peppers, transformed her hand into a small scoop and began deseeding them. She washed the hand first, of course. She even washed the other one, too.

Captain Pio produced three different grains, rinsed the excess starch off with water from the pump, and then dropped them into the pot for Guar before setting the table. Madel produced a live game bird–larger than a chicken but not quite as plump–proving that Nuralie was not the only Delver that could store living things in her inventory.

Madel promptly wrung the bird’s neck, defeathered and dressed it, then cut it into portions. She did this with a large kitchen knife, not the one she’d been plunging into Gekkogs. I was happy to see that she stored the mess in a compost container she placed back into her inventory afterward, leaving not even a barb behind. Pio collected and stowed away all the other waste.

Meanwhile, Baltae brought out a dozen small parcels of wax paper filled with herbs and spices, looked over the ingredients selected by the others, and began mixing a custom blend using telekinesis. Cezil had moved onto some sort of lettuce, peeling away leaves and tossing them at Baltae. The spatial mage caught them with his magic, floated them through a dark dressing (a vinaigrette, I imagine), scattered some small seeds over it, and delicately twisted the bundles into flowering arrangements. These landed on tasteful, cream-colored side plates and were then topped with citrus fruit slices by Madel.

Spices scattered themselves onto the bird, and the bird went into the pan, where it was seared to perfection by Guar. The meat was removed briefly to sauté the peppers, after which the now-cooked grains went in to soak up the remaining oil and herbs. The meat and peppers then returned to top the dish in the pan, keeping it from growing cold. Pio cleaned surfaces and implements as they were finished being used.

There was a chilled fruit yogurt for dessert. It was kept fresh in a mana-woven chest that sparkled and emitted icy vapor when opened, so I imagined this one required a bit of time in the cold to set. It was the only thing pre-made.

By the time the group sat down, said a prayer to Yara, and began to dig in, I was barely able to resist teleporting over to ask for a plate or two. But that would have been plain rude of me. Granny Loryn would not have approved. She might have even muttered a dismayed “Bless his heart, but that boy needs to learn some manners,” under her breath.

Remember Granny Loryn? No? It’s alright, she got name-dropped all the way back in Chapter 30 of Volume 1. If you did remember, here’s your gold star:

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Anyway, the food wasn’t just delicious. Turns out, every single member of this party had the Cooking & Hospitality intrinsic skill. They were protected from harm while eating in Guar’s dining area, had all mental and physical fatigue banished when using utensils maintained by Pio, were purged of toxins and mundane illnesses through Cezil’s veggies, had their sense of taste and smell enhanced for several hours from Cezil’s spices, and gained a boost to health and recovery while sleeping with a belly full of Madel’s not-a-chicken. They didn’t end up taking a nap, but I expected that last one would be much appreciated if they made it out of here.

It was a ‘no shop talk’ table, so they didn’t discuss strategy over the meal. Instead, most of the time was spent catching up on the goings-on of each party member’s close relatives, which is how I discovered Littans had families of considerable size. Growing up with 20 brothers and sisters was perfectly reasonable, and family reunions with several hundred attendees were modest affairs.

This line of conversation confirmed that Madel and Cezil were, in fact, twin sisters. This also became apparent from the relentless teasing Madel endured from her mimic sibling.

Over dessert, there was a brief talk about a popular play titled Piercing the Veil put on by a troupe traveling the empire and going by the name of Hysteria’s Congregation. The play sounded too meta for my taste but made me realize I’d spent very little time engaging with Arzian culture. Non-lethal culture, anyway. I would say Arts and Entertainment, but there was an art to smashing monsters to a pulp, and that was pretty entertaining so...

Once the dishes were clean and the kitchen packed away, the group finally started working on their battle plans.

“The Atrocidile has stupid amounts of Physical DR,” said Guar. His nub had moved from shoulder to elbow length, the muscles visibly squirming as they reformed. “More DR than I have when blocking. It is built like a tank. The suffix ‘Titan’ is no surprise.” He scratched at his biceps. “Yara save me, this itches. The evolution never said anything about itching.”

I thought back to my own experience with Just a Flesh Wound. I suspected the Littan had the vanilla version of my evolution, Total Regeneration. I didn’t remember my body parts itching when they regrew, but I had yet to lose an entire limb. Just a couple fingers, some teeth, a bit of intestine, and half my brain. Maybe the combination with Body of Theseus affected my symptoms.

“Hits like a hammerhead high on night-rush, as well,” Guar continued, scratching hard enough that some of his freshly grown fur was shedding. Grotto was going to be on cleaning duty after this, but maybe the Littans would sweep it up like they had with the crumbs.

“It builds Rage stacks,” said Baltae, voice serene as he meditated. “It has some form of Shattering Fury, giving it a high level of penetration while it has Rage.”

“How do you figure?” asked Madel.

“Some Atrocidile variants favor Rage builds, and the creature displayed berserker-like tendencies. It showed a level of tactical intelligence with its abilities and use of terrain, and one would expect it to make similarly intelligent choices with its targeting. However, it fixated on the first and closest target–Sgt. Guar–when it began attacking in earnest. Guar is the tank and is by definition the worst party member for a monster to target. Thus, it likely had enough Rage stacks to become Berserk very early in the fight.

“As for Shattering Fury, Captain Pio’s Physical DR is substantially lower than Sgt. Guar’s, but they each took similar amounts of damage when attacked. This suggests that Guar’s defenses were being ignored. Given the aforementioned use of Rage, Shattering Fury makes the most sense.”

“Huh,” Madel grunted. “Well, I noticed that it is... fast.”

“Instantaneous attack cooldowns and some kind of Haste,” said Baltae.

“High Fortitude, Strength, and Speed,” said Pio. “Then its weakness should be Spiritual.”

“It sure resisted everything I threw at it,” said Cezil. The mighty morphin’ Littan picked at her tunic like it was uncomfortable.

“It cannot have high stats across the board,” Pio said. “The ability to resist your Spiritual magicks must have a limit.”

“I hit it with 4 different debuffs and did not find these ‘limits’.”

“Cooldowns and resources,” said Baltae. “If the creature’s ability to resist Spiritual attacks is not due to a high Wisdom score, then it is naturally limited. Most high-level physical fighters–especially tanks–have at minimum one or two cooldowns dedicated to avoiding the worst Spiritual attacks. If the Atrocidile relies on cooldowns to avoid the debuffs, then its entire ancillary build is focused on avoidance. Given that it is a solo-predator hybrid high-defense and damage dealer type, I find that unlikely.

“That means it is consuming a secondary resource. Resources that are best suited for avoiding mental and other Spiritual attacks are mental and Spiritual resources; such as skills relying on mental attributes and mana. That is unlikely, given our observations and the Atrocidile’s likely stat distribution. However, the most common mental debuff applied by martial fighters is itself a buff that can sometimes be consumed as a resource in certain specific scenarios and that is...?”

“Uh, Rage stacks?” Guar guessed.

“Yes, Guar, Rage stacks. Very good. Rage stacks are the precursor to the mental debuff Berserk and are themselves a resource used by fighters for damage and occasionally other boons. As such, it is not a stretch to imagine that the Atrocidile might be using the mental resource of Rage stacks to avoid the Spiritual debuffs.”

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“How do you suggest we counter that?” asked Captain Pio.

“Do we need to?” asked Baltae, before immediately answering his own question. “We likely do not. The classic counters to physical fighters are mental attacks and movement debuffs. The Atrocidile seems to have those angles covered. We should instead look to other schools that such fighters are weak to. Mystical and Divine are two compelling options. My Force attacks seemed to have some effect, but I am not built for consistent high-level output of Mystical damage and neither is anyone else. Sgt. Guar, however, can output significant Righteous damage using Smite, along with his other Divine abilities and expenditure of Blessed stacks.”

“So... I focus on damage,” said Guar.

“Yes, that is my suggestion,” said Baltae.

“That should place us in a much more advantageous position than last time,” he said. “We will also have full resources and will be expecting the fight. I believe that will be enough.”

“But what do I do?” asked Cezil. “If I’m not on debuffs then what uh... what do I do?”

“Your Curse stacks may still be effective,” offered Baltae.

“Curse without all the other suffering isn’t very engaging,” said Cezil. “What if Madel bonds to me?”

Lt. Madel’s shoulders slumped and she returned to the ground.

“That’s probably the right play, Captain,” Madel said with a sigh.

“Come ooonnn,” said Cezil, sauntering over like a cowboy that had ridden saddle all day. She threw an arm of unusual length around Madel’s shoulders. It wrapped all the way across the lieutenant’s body until Cezil could pinch Madel on the opposite cheek, which she did. “Don’t sound so gloomy about it. You can’t use, what, half of your active abilities without me?”

“You’re so fucking weird,” said Madel, rolling her eyes.

Captain Pio snapped her fingers and the two women stood up straight, Cezil disentangling herself from her sister.

“Your eccentricities compound when you transform,” said Pio. “Both of you. Lieutenant, you’ve done a good job keeping a lid on your own brand of insubordination but I’m aware of your history.”

“It won’t be a problem, Captain,” said Madel. “I can control it.”

“That’s the problem,” said Cezil. “You try, but you can’t. You’ve just–” Cezil spread her hands in front of her, gazing into the middle distance. “You’ve just gotta let it happen.”

“The Lieutenant’s bond and transformation will improve our odds of success,” said Baltae. “Her goal is to hold the Atrocidile’s attention, which she certainly will if she comes unhinged.”

“And I’ll knock her out if she goes wild,” said Guar, flexing his 63 percent reformed arm.

“Negative, Sergeant,” said Pio. “We’ll go with the toddler strategy if she loses it.”

“Distract her with colorful objects?” he guessed.

“No. We ignore the tantrum and let her wear herself out.”

“You've been so cute since you had kids,” said Cezil. The mimic twin held out her hand to Madel. “Ready?”

“What?” said Madel, scrunching up her muzzle. “No. We still have like an hour to relax.”

“Oh, good point,” said Cezil, dropping her hand. “I’m gonna go for a swim.”

The woman threw off her tunic, transformed into something otter-adjacent, and dove into the hot spring.

Guar stood and gave Pio a salute.

“Permission to have pool time, Captain?”

“Granted,” said Pio. The man stripped and did a cannonball. It was entirely inappropriate. Only people who owned the hot spring were allowed to cannonball.

“Glad I’m not the only one whose party goes off the rails sometimes,” I thought to Grotto.

[At least Captain Pio attempts to maintain order.]

“Are you criticizing my leadership style?”

[I would describe it as... shambolic.]

“That’s not a real word. You just made that up.”

[It is real and you can look it up later. Shall I lend you some educational materials to broaden your lexicon?]

“Only if they come from that adult bookstore.”

[Unfortunately, the vocabulary in those texts is oddly limited, aside from having 86 unique words to describe male genitalia.]

“Hmm, maybe you can just put a list together for me.”

[A list of variegated and expressive terms, or a comprehensive list of synonyms for your reproductive organs?]

“Are they different lists?”

[I do not suppose they have to be.]

“I’ll expect to have it on my desk by Monday.”