This Quest is Bullshit - Chapter 143

Chapter 143 - So Much for the Loot

You have defeated Level 111 Prismed Burendian Bodyguard Construct: +12.9m exp!
You have defeated Level 113 Prismed Burendian Bodyguard Construct: +13.7m exp!

Legendary Quest Milestone Reached: Don’t Die A Fiery Death IV
+ 536b exp!

Level Up!

Eve let out her umpteenth silent prayer of thanks that her life quest was so generous with its milestones, handing out the fat exp rewards like sweets on a festival day. Gods knew how much grinding she’d have to do for each level without them. Images flashed through her mind of killing the same skyswallowers over and over again day in and day out. Eve shuddered.

Forcing away the traumatic memory of what had definitively been the most boring month of her life, Eve allowed herself to crack a slight smile as she watched her stats go up. A hundred and thirty-five Willpower per level really was ridiculous.

Feeling a bit better about the events of the last five minutes, Eve brought up the notification she’d been saving for last.

Ability Upgraded!
Active Ability - Jet
X Mana
Can now be applied to held objects!

Eve’s eyebrows shot up. “Well that’s an interesting one.”

“What’s that?” Preston asked, his own notification list significantly shorter for lack of a milestone.

“Skill upgrade,” Eve explained. “Says I can Jet things now.”

Preston blinked. “Like… anything?”

“Well, it explicitly says ‘held objects,’ so I assume I can’t Jet a mountain at someone.”

“Not unless you could hold one.”

Eve rolled her eyes. “You know I can’t do that. A mountain can’t hold itself together with just the limited support my body can provide.”

Preston squinted at her. “You seem to know an awful lot about the physics of picking up a mountain.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“It’s not because you tried, is it?”

Eve let out the most innocent-sounding whistle she could manage.

“Eve,” Preston said, running a hand over his forehead. “Please tell me you haven’t tried to pick up a mountain.”

“I haven’t tried to pick up a mountain,” Eve echoed his exact phrasing and tone of voice.

Preston sighed. “And when it collapsed, how many things did it kill?”

“Oh, don’t be so serious,” Eve waved him off. “I didn’t collapse anything. There’re just… four arm-shaped holes in the base of some mountain back by Dragonwrought Hold.”

“Four?”

“If at first you don’t succeed…”

Their conversation came to an end as Wes emerged from the burnt sitting room, his eyes uncolored by notification blue and his expression stony.

“Hey,” Eve greeted him. “Are you okay?”

Wes exhaled, his shoulders visibly dropping as he let out the breath. “I’m never gonna get used to that.”

Preston raised a sympathetic eyebrow. “The flames?”

“All of it. Going from complete normal to absolutely out of my mind in two seconds. I know it’s the devouring flame controlling me, but it doesn’t feel like that. It’s like… out of nowhere, there’s nothing in this world I want more than to spread the flames. For a few seconds I have this divine purpose to burn.”

“Then Art steps in and that purpose is still there, every atom of my being is screaming that I should be spreading the fire but I can’t. I can only stand and watch as I put it all out. And then the purpose leaves, and then Art leaves, and I’m left there having known this glorious mission only to lose it. And even though that mission is evil and Art is only doing what I asked him to, the fact remains that for a handful of moments, I was part of something big. I was significant on a cosmological scale. And now I’m an adventurer again.”

The air went still. Silence pervaded. Eve opened her mouth to speak, but for the first time in gods knew how long, she couldn’t think of a thing to say.

Preston could. For a few precious seconds he let the silence hang in the air before quietly, yet deliberately, walking up to wrap the fire mage in a great hug. “It’s gonna be okay,” he whispered. “We’ll find a way out of this. I know we don’t have any leads, but as soon as we’re done here, we’ll focus exclusively on finding Art’s father.”

“And if he can’t help?” Eve asked.

“Then I’ll retire,” Wes said. “Build a mansion somewhere secluded, heat and light it with magic, hire staff that know fire can’t be allowed on the premises. There’s gotta be fire suppression enchantments, right? Gods know I can afford it. Got enough contribution points to clear out the Dragonwrought’s vault three times over. Then I’ll just…” He shrugged. “Live out my life as a reclusive aristocrat. Maybe I’ll hold balls.”

Eve collapsed.

Peals of laughter echoed cacophonously through the stone hallway as Eve’s entire body shook with it. Tears streaked down her face. Her cheeks ached. Waves of minor pain rolled up her abdomen as her belly grew sore with it. Thrice she tried to speak, to explain the joke or insist that she was okay, but each time the words vanished behind a new fit of laughter.

Wes scowled at her. “What’s so funny?”

“You…” Eve panted, her eyes flitting over to Preston. “You already hold balls.”

Preston cringed.

Wes raised an eyebrow at him. “You know, maybe this world does deserve to burn.”

“No,” Preston said with a shake of his head. “Just Eve.”

I thought it was funny!

Eve wiped her tears on her sleeve, cheeks still red with the last vestiges of laughter. “Thank you, Art.”

Wes looked at her sideways. “Well, I’m glad you and the ten-year-old share a sense of humor.”

“Children are the future,” Eve said. “Don’t you know they’re the ones who shape culture?”

“If that joke has anything to do with the future of society, I think whatever wiped out the Burendians had the right idea.”

“Exactly!” Eve clapped him on the back. “By wiping out the Burendians, they made room for humanity to grow, so we could one day create comedic masterpieces like that.”

Preston let out a sigh. “Now seems like a good time to remind everyone we’re in the middle of a long lost ruined palace that’s filled with all sorts of ways to kill us.” He turned to Eve. “Did the enchantments send you any more notifications?”

Eve paused to scroll through the messages she’d already dismissed, skimming past the milestone and level-up to reread those from the dungeon itself.

[Error!] Defensive Measure 1873 Offline.
[Error!] Defensive Measure 1875 Offline.
[Error!] Enchantment Zone 187 Offline.
[Alert!] Forbidden Entity Detected! Evacuate Immediately!
[Alert!] Forbidden Entity Detected! Evacuate Immediately!
[Alert!] Forbidden Entity Detected! Evacuate Immediately!

Eve blinked. “Huh.”

Wes scowled. “What?”

“Two things,” she explained. “For one, apparently that sitting room was enchantment zone one-eight-seven.”

Wes snapped his fingers. “I knew it! Those constructs were defensive measures three, four, and five from section one-eight-seven. There aren’t eighteen hundred defensive measures.”

Eve snorted. “Well, there still might be. For all we know there are thousands of enchantment zones.”

Wes glared at her.

“Alright, alright,” she laughed. “The other thing’s more interesting. I’ve got a bunch of the same notification warning me about a forbidden entity and demanding I evacuate.”

Wes’s eyes widened. “You think they can sense the devouring flame?”

“It has to be, right? The messages line up perfectly with… you know. What’s interesting is that the alerts specifically called it a forbidden entity, which would imply the enchantments couldn’t just tell it was dangerous, they have at least some idea what it is.”

“Forbidden could also just mean not allowed in the palace,” Preston argued. “But your explanation does mesh with our theory that the devouring flame was banished from our reality by something.”

“Possibly the Burendians if their enchantments can recognize something forbidden.”

Wes perked up at that. “If the Burendians locked it away in the first place, then maybe…”

Eve nodded. “We have another secondary quest that could potentially help you. I wouldn’t pin my hopes on it though. The alerts insisted I evacuate, not activate some containment protocol. And you burned right through their enchantments anyway. It seems just as likely they figured out how to interface with whatever banished the devouring flame just like they figured out how to interface with the notification system.”

“I’m going to remain cautiously optimistic for the time being,” Preston decide, “but that’s as far as I’m going.”

Wes nodded. “In the short term, this changes nothing. We were always going to fully explore this place.”

“What’s left of it anyway,” Eve added, looking past Wes and Preston towards the burnt sitting room.

“Art, why don’t you stay with us for a bit,” Preston said, choosing to keep the telepath nearby in case they came across more prismed constructs. “Lumy can keep Reginald company.”

But Reg can’t hear her!

Preston sighed. “They’ll be alright. We need you with us.”

Okay. The trellac deflated somewhat, but the excitement of exploring the ruins did help curb his disappointment at having to leave Reginald behind.

Eve took the lead back down the hall, finding the floor now ramped slightly downward as it approached the sitting room. Absent the upward glow of the now-destroyed enchantments, Eve moved by the light of her eyes.

The walls and floors had burned first and then melted in the residual heat left over after Art had quenched the flames, leaving streaks along the wall where the molten stone had dripped down. Similarly, the neat square stones of flooring with lines of enchantment between them had burned away by almost an entire foot, leaving a smooth, concave depression centered around where the bodyguard construct had first fired its spell.

Said construct, of course, no longer existed as anything more than a bit of ash.

“Welp,” Eve said, planting her hands on her hips. “So much for the loot.”

“Ayla’s tits,” Wes muttered. “How long was I out?”

Eve turned to Preston. “Six seconds? Does that sound right?”

Preston nodded. “Something like that.”

Wes exhaled through his cheeks.

“If it’s any consolation,” Eve offered, “you are absurdly powerful. Once we figure out this whole ‘apocalyptic madness’ thing, you’re gonna swat the blightmaw dragon right out of the air.”

Wes let out a laugh. It was a brief, quiet, breathy thing, but it was, in spite of everything, a laugh. Sometimes that’s all it takes.

The doors themselves were no more, but three openings in the melted wall remained, three paths forward brimming with potential for excitement and loot. If there were bodyguards, there had to have been somebody worth guarding, and people worth guarding tended to have valuables.

Wes, in typical Wes fashion, put it best. “Okay then.” He clapped his hands together to get everyone’s attention. “Let’s find out of these dead Burendian royals had anything worth looting.”

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