Chapter 93
Barrier Guardian, Part II (Quest Update)
The meat sizzles over the fire, fat spitting with little crackling hisses. It smells… good? Shockingly good. Good enough to elicit a loud, rumbling groan from my stomach. It’s like if a beef roast had a meaty love child with something oddly lobster-like. After I’m sure it’s been thoroughly cooked, I take it off the fire and let it cool until I’m able to pick at it without burning off my fingertips.
I rip off a piece off the main hunk with a pinch of my fingers, the meat parting easily from the bone. The thing is perfectly white inside, glistening like some kind of gourmet chicken commercial.
I cautiously lift the chunk of meat to my nose and sniff. “Smells good… Looks like it’s cooked enough…” I shrug and take a bite.
Chew.
Huh.
I chew some more.
The others sit around the fire, watching me. Which I have to admit makes me a little nervous.
“Not bad,” I say around the mouthful of dragon meat before swallowing and picking another piece of flesh from the cartoonishly large bone.
It’s a weird cross between roast beef and chicken. Which is odd because it definitely has a shellfish sorta smell to it. It’s juicy. And definitely edible (I think). After I swallowed the first bite, a tingling sensation covers my tongue. Like someone sprinkled pop rocks onto the meat.
But if I don’t think too hard about it, it’s a pleasant sensation. Sort of.
“I give it a six out of ten,” I mutter aloud, popping another fingerful into my mouth. “Points off because it makes my tongue feel a bit weird.”
Liv scrunches her face like she just bit into a lemon and saw a tax audit notice at the same time. “I’m sorry, it makes your tongue feel weird? I think that’s a sign that you shouldn’t be eating it!”
“Hot sauce does the same thing,” I say, chewing a second bite. “You don’t see that stopping anyone.”
“You’re insane,” she says. “This is just like Florida. You and Dad. When you guys tried that gator barbecue. Except this time, it’s lightning dragon steak!”
I grin and hold up the meat like a trophy. “But this, this has potential stat buffs!... And imagine the macros of this bad boy!”
She fake gags and turns back to her cookie.
I shrug. I take a couple more bites. After a moment, it’s easy to ignore the electrical buzzing sensation across my tastebuds. “And anyway, don’t go giving me ideas. There’s enough giant gators in this swamp to feed several barbeque joints!”
I’m a bit disappointed that I haven’t received any buffs from the Storm Dragon meat yet. On the other hand, I haven’t gone insane either.
So far, so good.
“Protein,” I say, and toss the rest of the meat to Jelly Boy.
The slime vibrates with uncontained joy, flopping forward and engulfing the hunk in one slurping motion that should not be physically possible without violating multiple laws of biology. But what are those laws to a freaking slime.. A faint burble escapes him as he digests, and I swear I see a spark dance across his gooey surface.
He gives me a little slime salute with an extended pseudopod.
“You’re welcome, buddy,” I say, plopping down next to Liv.
Grush pokes at the fire with a large stick. He grunts, content with his work.
Grush is sitting between Walter and Preston. The skeleton is looking over an unfurled scroll, jotting down notes using a quill that miraculously doesn’t seem to require any ink. Preston is using a stump as a makeshift table, and has various decanters and vials that he’s pulled from his Inventory. He’s busy mixing the various liquids—some of which we collected from monsters we’ve defeated—concocting potions of some kind.
The dragon meat continues to fizz on my tongue and in my belly.
God help me if it gives me lightning farts.
The fire crackles low, little amber sprites dancing in the coals. Grush is snoring somewhere behind me—loudly. Apparently, he does sleep… Occasionally. Walter and Preston continue to work on their individual projects, content with keeping watch while the rest of us slept.
I pull my cloak tighter around my body, trying to find some kind of functional burrito shape against the log to my back.
Across the fire, Jelly Boy hums. The sound reminds me of an operating microwave. He’s still wearing the wizard hat I gave him—my old one, the floppy blue thing with the stubborn tilt that made me look like a dollar store Gandalf. Though now it’s decked out in pale alligator scales.
Jelly Boy stretches a pseudopod from the side of his body, lifting the cap off his head. The moment he does, it vanishes in a swirl of pixelated light as its pulled into the slime’s Inventory.
Watching it makes me think about my new hat.
I reach up and tap it—the Behemoth Cap. I’m still not attuned to the damned thing. So, my slimy pal has a much better wizard’s cap than the actual wizard of the party. Some things in life just aren’t fair.
I sigh, opening up my [Equipment] menu and checking to make sure nothing’s happened with the Behemoth Cap since the last time I checked its description.
Item: Behemoth Cap (Legendary)
Description: This hat contains the soul fragment of a fire elemental behemoth named Shogmoth. It naturally generates fire mana at a rate of 2 mana per minute. It is capable of using accumulated mana to cast spells through the conjured Maw of Shogmoth.
Note: Attunement Threshold for this Item Not Satisfied.
Figures, I think.
With another sigh, I back out of the cap’s description window and scroll through the rest of the [Equipment] tab of my interface.
EQUIPMENT:
Head: Behemoth Cap (Legendary)
Left Hand (Hold): Full Metal Staff (Legendary) [Two-handed, Currently in Inventory]
Right Hand (Hold): [Empty] [Wielding a Two-handed Weapon]
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Left Hand (Finger 1): Ring of Freedom (Common)
Left Hand (Finger 2): [Empty]
Right Hand (Finger 1): [Empty]
Right Hand (Finger 2): [Empty]
Left Arm: [Empty]
Right Arm: [Empty]
Body 1: Cape of the Arcane Student (Common)
Body 2: [Empty]
Legs: Trousers of the Serpentine Lord (Rare)
Feet: Lumberjack Boots (Uncommon)
Additional Accessory 1: Bracelet of Reprise (Uncommon)
Additional Accessory 2: [Empty]
I scan the list absently until my eyes land on something… Something I’d completely forgotten about.
Trousers of the Serpentine Lord (Rare).
I blink.
Trousers. Of the. Serpentine Lord.
“Uh,” I say aloud.
My focus on the item unintentionally conjures its description window.
Item: Trousers of the Serpentine Lord
Description: These trousers are imbued with the energy of the Serpentine Lord, one of Lichlord Dinescu’s archrivals he defeated in combat a long, long ago. This is an Enchanted Item.
Enchantments:
[Personalized]: These trousers will take a unique form specific to the wearer.
[Growth]: These trousers will grow in strength the more often they are equipped and used in combat.
Attributes:
+8 to Dexterity
+5 to Willpower
+10% chance to evade any area of effect type Spells and abilities
Skills: [Speed Boost] (Beginner)
A surprised sound escapes my lips.
Liv makes a tired grumbling noise from her sleeping position across the fire beside Jelly Boy. Jelly Boy perks up at my sound. I wave him off, holding a finger to my lips and then pointing to Liv. The slime’s confused eyes glance towards Liv, then back towards me, now filled with recognition. He gives the ooze-approximation of a curt nod.
I slowly get to my feet and creep around the fire, joining Walter’s side.
“Hey,” I say, keeping my voice to a loud whisper.
A skeletal hand rises from the gloom, holding up a finger. “Mm?... One moment.” He finishes jotting down a note before turning to me, eye sockets staring.
“Preston?” I ask, leaning over to glance at the goldfish.
“Awake, regrettably,” the goldfish replies, upside down in his bowl like a meditating vampire. He’s waiting for some reaction in one of his vials to finish doing… Something. “What is it, Joseph?”
“So, uh… these shorts I got from the lich’s castle? The last time I was here. The cursed ones? Apparently, they’re the Trousers of the Serpentine Lord. That’s like the guy who owns this swamp, right?”
A long pause.
Then Walter sits up, bones creaking. “Yeah, so?”
Preston rotates inside his bowl. “Archewald, the Serpentine Lord, is one of the most powerful and prolific enchanters our Realm has seen. Items and equipment he and his band of warmongers crafted are still found all over.”
“So, not a big deal that I’m wearing cursed short-shorts made by your boss’ arch-nemesis?”
Walter laughs. It sounds like dry leaves rubbing together. “The Serpentine Lord was one of the last participants in our Realm’s Divine Contest. He and Lichlord Dinescu nearly tore this world in half. Until the end… Though suppose that’s why we’re here. Archewald was… odd. But brilliant. His army was always decked out in some nasty powerful stuff.” The skeleton shivers at the thought.
“Great,” I say. It’s still not clear to me whether I should be worried that I have on cursed jorts of a man who may not be on good terms with my allies. I try not to think about it.
“I noticed the shorts have a Trait called Growth,” I say. “What’s that about?”
Walter clacks his jaw once, thinking. “It varies. Growth is unique to the item it’s applied to. Sometimes it’s a byproduct of the item enchanted. Others it’s the intent and nature of the enchanter…”
Preston chimes in. “Do the trousers come with a latent Skill or Ability?”
I nod. “[Speed Boost].”
“How often do you use it?” Walter asks.
I rub my chin. “I haven’t used it all that often, to be honest.” Though when I have it’s come in handy, I silently add.
“Then change that,” Walter says firmly. “Use it. Abuse it. Train it like a muscle.” His eye sockets find my biceps. “Can’t be too hard.”
Noted.
“And what about the Behemoth Cap?” I point at the hat. “It requires me to attune to it. I’ve been wearing it all the time and still nothing. Still just… sitting there on my head.”
Preston drifts closer to the edge of his bowl. “Attunement,” he says, “isn’t just about equipping for a set period of time. It’s about understanding. Connection. Purpose. Magical items are like people, Joseph. They respond to time, yes. But more importantly there’s effort and intention. Meditate on it. The better you understand the hat’s nature, the more likely you are to properly attune to it.”
“Gotcha… Meditation. Will do.” I have no idea what that means, but am thinking I’ll need to see if there are any yoga studios back home that offer meditation courses.
“If you must,” the goldfish replies dryly. “But at least try to give it a moment of focus each day. Let it know you. So that you can know it.”
I take the cap off my head, looking it over. Then, I look at the fire. Then back at the cap.
“Fine,” I mutter. “Let’s have a moment.”
I place the cap back onto my head and straighten my back, rest my hands on my knees, and close my eyes. The campfire pops in the background. Grush lets out a rumbling fart.
Spiritual meditation vibes: ruined.
I crack one eye, glaring in the direction of the sleeping hulk.
Then, I close my eyes again.
I try to be still. I breathe. I focus on the Behemoth Cap.
And for a brief second…
I swear I feel a pulse.
The pressure in the air shifts. Like the atmosphere decides it wants to lean in real close and whisper something horrifying directly into my brainstem using the language of electricity.
Then the trees go snap, crackle, oh-shit, and I realize that what I’m feeling isn’t coming from the cap on my head. No, it’s my [Aura Sense] pulling my attention towards the tree tops.
The Barrier Guardian reappears—just a little ways off, far too close for comfort. Its massive skeletal horse tramples through the canopy. The Headless Harbinger lumbers along atop it, lantern swinging from one leather-clad hand, jack-o’-lantern face burning green-yellow in the gloom.
The bastard doesn’t see us.
Which is great, because I really don’t feel like running and hiding again.
A familiar pulse rolls through my head. It’s accompanied by a System prompt drops like a divine middle finger from the sky.
SIDE QUEST!
Side Quest: Lighter of the Lantern
Description: You intend to face the Barrier Guardian in combat after training and honing your Skills. However, time is of the essence. Go on, fight! The sharpest steel is forged in the hottest of flames!
Obsjective: Defeat the Barrier Guardian.
Restrictions: Only the following members of your party may participate in the battle: Joseph Sullivan, Olivia Sullivan, and Jelly Boy.
Time Limit: 24 Hours
Reward: If the Objective is successfully completed prior to the expiration of the Time Limit, each participant in the battle will receive 1 Attribute Enhancement Potion.
“Uh,” I mumble. “Guys?”
Liv straightens, rubbing sleep from her eyes.
“I just got a very interesting System message,” I say.
“I got it too,” she says, blinking the sleep from her eyes.
“Bllorb!” Jelly Boy chirps, vibrating with excitement (and maybe a little bit of indigestion from the storm dragon meat).
I sit up fully, dread curling around my guts like a wet snake.
Walter and Preston look towards me, confused. I read the Side Quest aloud.
“We’re not seriously considering this, right?” I ask, gesturing toward the towering death knight made of nightmares currently stomping through the forest. “That thing has a question mark where its level should be. I take it this Side Quest is just a suicide mission.”
“And for just one potion each,” Liv says. “What does an Attribute Enhancement Potion even do?”
“Don’t be so hasty,” Walter says, adjusting the cuffs on his dark, tattered suit. “The System rarely offers impossible Quests.”
“Oh, good,” I say, rubbing my temples. “Hear that Liv? We may have a statistically not impossible battle on our hands!”
Walter leans in closer, face—or lack thereof—eerily calm. “The System is a medium for gaining power. That’s its sole purpose. If it offered the three of you this Quest, it’s because there is some manner of achieving it. The odds may be steep, but the potential reward...”
“Is a single potion,” I cut in.
“An Attribute Enhancement Potion,” Preston says, floating in on his zombie-goldfish-diving-suit body. “Those are exceedingly rare. And are very powerful. At your level, using one of those potions would put you on equal footing… In some respects… With those at much higher levels.”
Okay, I think, mind racing. Now, that does change some things.
“Still,” I say. “It’s nuts. That thing could end us with one swipe, for all we know.”
Walter clasps his bony hands behind his back. “That’s why we’re not fighting it. Not yet. You have 24 hours.”
Liv narrows her eyes. “You want us to train? Now?”
“Sleep is for the dead… or dying,” Walter says, glancing between the three of us. “And last I checked, you three are the ones with beating hearts… Guess I’m not so sure about you.” He nods at Jelly Boy.
Jelly Boy ripples in… Anger? Excitement? It’s hard for me to tell. Maybe a little bit of both.
I sigh and stand. “Alright. Let’s pretend this isn’t the dumbest thing we’ve ever considered. Where do we start? We’ve only got twenty-four hours.”
Walter’s skull tilts, the light of the campfire catching in his eye sockets.
“Pain,” he says.
Liv groans.
Preston floats higher. “Endurance.”
Jelly Boy vibrates with joy.
“And, I assume,” I mutter, summoning my Full Metal Staff, “copious amounts of getting our asses kicked in the name of building up Resistances?”
Walter nods solemnly. “Welcome to the 24-hour death camp. We've got some grinding to do!”

