Chapter 43: Fools Gold (2/2)
Still better than Melodieuse. Thinking of her… “By the way, I asked Mot to locate Melodieuse, and he came up short.”
“So she is either using a pseudonym or blocking his power?” The paladin sighed. “Of course that would be too easy.”
“Thanks, Barney!” Allison thanked Barnabas, as they finished working on Rolo.
“Been thinking about testing these new Agarthan gears for a while,” the troll grumbled. “Advanced design, but shoddy work.”
“I feel as good as new,” the golem replied, before bumping a fist to the heavens. “Nothing can stop Rolo now!”
“Hi, Vic, Kia!” Allison welcomed them with a bright smile, cleaning her oil-stained hands with a towel. “What’s up?”
“I’m looking for love,” Victor joked.
“In my garage?” she deadpanned back, Kia chuckling at the scene.
“Well, I gotta start somewhere,” he replied, before turning to Rolo, “I visited a tower full of golems recently.”
“The Tower of Sablar? That takes me back.” So indeed, the golem Farmer had come from that place. “I received my first Crest when I managed to fight my way out of it. Is the vile Akhenapep still sleeping at the bottom?”
“I’m looking for supplies to help kick his ass,” Kia confirmed, glancing at Barnabas. “Do you have any item effective against ancient mummies? Like rings protecting against Earth-based attacks?”
“I can forge an [Amulet of the Sandstorms],” the troll replied, eager to create new magic items. “High resistance to the Earth and Wind elements, immunity to the [Sandstorm] weather and its debuffs, and immunity to Curses.”
“The Pharaoh enjoys the benediction of Sablar, for his crimes against nature,” Rolo warned Kia, Allison frowning at his words. The poor state of Ishfania and the rise of Brandon Maure had been a direct result of Akhenapep’s magic. “Time effects do not affect him, and magical protections never resist him for long.”
“I’m not attacking that monster until I have the team assembled and the perfect set-up,” the experienced knight reassured him.
“Do you have information on his abilities?” Allison asked her golem friend. “You worked for him before achieving sentience.”
While Rolo, Allison, and Kia discussed Akhenapep’s abilities, Victor turned to Barnabas. “I’m also looking towards upgrading my arsenal. Items which could help me heal Vainqueur in a fight.”
Vainqueur had the physical part covered, but had no means of regenerating health. Since Victor could never match his master in sheer firepower, he thought he would better learn how to support him; and thanks to his new Perk, he should get a nice discount.
“Money first,” the troll said. “You’re indebted.”
“I was,” Victor replied, before presenting him his purse, full thanks to Mot’s wish. “Here’s more than enough to satisfy you.”
The troll blacksmith glanced at the coins but refused them. “Nah, I don’t accept fairy gold.”
Victor blinked at the same time as Kia and the others, at the mention of fairies. “Come again?” the vizier asked.
“I don’t take fairy gold,” Barnabas replied. “It is either cursed, fake, or blood money.”
...
Uh oh.
Victor connected the dots. [Monster Insight] did work on dangerous monsters.
The Perk just didn’t recognize one specific kind.
“Vic,” Kia quickly unsheathed the sword. “Mot is not a djinn.”
Because djinns didn’t exist in Outremonde. They were another name for...
“Damn!” Victor immediately rushed outside, Kia, Allison, and Rolo following him. With all the wishes he granted for Vainqueur, it was only a matter of time before—
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAARGHH!”
Before Mot snapped.
His frustrated scream echoed through the city and with it a foul purple light. “[Greater Blessing]!” Kia immediately cast on herself, surrounding herself with a golden aura…
But the purple blast canceled the spell at once, instantly turning her and Allison into gemstone statues. Only Victor and Rolo remained unaffected.
Of course, Mot would take out the woman who defeated Balaur first.
“Allison!” Rolo paused in fury, before rushing towards the source of the scream.
The bottle's protective magic had protected Vic from the wish, and Rolo was an artificial creature with natural resistance to magic, but no one else was as lucky. As the two raced through Murmurin, they passed by citizens transformed into gemstone statues.
They found Mot in a devastated townsquare, busy materializing tons of gemstones atop Vainqueur and burying him underneath. The genie had already pinned the great dragon under a large pile of them, his Spell Purge unable to counter the effect.
”You like gems? You like gems?!” Mot snarled, with a twisted, maddened look on his face. The great wyrm would have easily crushed the 'djinn' in a fair fight, but he had been taken by surprise.
“MINION! Minion, stop—” Vainqueur shouted from under the enormous mountain of gems, more falling to drown his head. Even the almighty dragon didn’t have the strength to lift so many precious stones at once; the tip of his tail waved outside the pile, showcasing the emperor’s fruitless struggle to escape.
Mot glared at Victor and Rolo with contempt. “Ah, my ‘master’ and a traitorous golem. What a wonderful pair.”
“Mot, what have you done?” Victor glared at the ‘goblin.’
“Vainqueur wanted a city of gems,” Mot said, with cruel glee in his empty eyes. “Now he has it. No more new statues!”
“Can’t believe you lasted only a few days,” Victor taunted him. “I maintained my sanity for months!”
“Yes, when bound to that bottle, I may look like you, a lowly slave... but deep down in my frozen heart, I know who I am.” His voice turned deeper, echoing with the sound of freezing winds. “An eater of men, the shaytan of legends...”
The goblin grew and changed until Mot wasn’t little anymore. His enormous shape, bigger than a mighty troll, overshadowed his ‘master.’ The creature seemed made of bones of ice, a skeletal eater of children with goat horns; the spine moved to attach itself to the bottle around Victor’s belt as if only half the body was allowed out. Two blue stars shining with malice replaced its eyes, as it glared at the vizier.
“A fairy lord of the fomors.”
“The destroyer of the land,” Rolo grumbled with a hint of terror.
“You’re the creature on the tower’s murals,” Victor recognized it.
“The Tower magnified my powers until Akhenapep could wish the land of the elves dry dead,” Mot said with a vicious kind of pride. “When you have wished for my freedom, when I can strangle the mortal children myself, I shall lay waste to the land and finish what Balaur could not.”
“Yeah, smart to tell me that, never going to happen now,” Victor deadpanned. “You should have played the long game. I would have released you if you had been on good behavior.”
“I intended to, but found something worse than being trapped in a BEEPing bottle and providing gifts to mortals against my will,” Mot said, glaring at the buried Vainqueur. “Serving that dragon!”
“I can wish for those turned to gem to become flesh again,” Victor pointed out.
“I will make flesh out of your statues, so they become alive and eat you,” Mot replied. “Or I shall make everything flesh, from bones to brain. Any wish you shall make I will twist, no matter how you word it. Unless I am set free.”
Yeah, no way in Happyland. But if Vainqueur’s own [Spell Purge] could not suppress Mot’s ancient magic, then only another wish could counteract the chaos. The genie must have had a weakness of some kind. “You can’t kill people.”
The monstrous fairy chuckled. “You would be surprised by what I can make you live through. So? Deal, or agony?”
An idea crossed Victor’s mind. “Okay. Let’s make a contract.”
“Yes, wish for my freedom, and I shall—”
“No, I mean a written contract.” Overseen by the few evil creatures as good at twisting words as a genie. “I’m calling my lawyers!”