Chapter 29
James felt for Oak, he really did. Not only had the man been roped into being the party’s tank way back when because he’d gone with a warrior class, but he’d been put in one awkward situation, after another, as a result. James had personally watched the man be eaten by a giant steampunk T-Rex, smothered to death by a giant stuff snake, eaten… a few times, by zombie sharks, and once by an Undead Kraken, and of course, rudely slain in a multitude of ways not counting those memorable moments. Then there were the mimic deaths, the fact he had an obvious phobia of snakes that James, both intentionally and un kept triggering.
In short, Oak went through a lot. And yet he still continued on with a smile… after his bitching and grumbling was done, willing to fulfill the role he’d been given, to keep his adventuring party alive, and support his friends. It was admirable. Inspiring. Which made the fact he was doomed, no matter what he did, all the more painful to watch. And James, well, James was the main reason for Oak’s most current, dire, predicament.
“It’s not stopping,” Oak growled as Med Ic’s light washed over him. All of his other debuffs were cleansed, except for one. A flashing red and black debuff on his status bar, that had the number 16 on it now.
“I’ve used my strongest spells,” Med Ic replied, a bit of frustration in his voice. He really had. So had Rue, even though she of course knew it was pointless. The least they could do, in this situation, was go along with the farce. Even if James and Rue knew full well that the particular debuff wasn’t going anywhere, anytime soon.
Afflicted
The debuff was the result of James upgrading the Cult’s Wool-Aid skill to the max on his sacrificial lambs. A debuff that couldn’t be cleansed. While on a target, it would sap their life and mana by a percentage every second, as well as decrease their damage output at the same rate. Gaining an additional stack of Afflicted would reset that timer, keeping those nasty effects from taking hold. Though, gaining new stacks of Afflicted was also a catastrophic fate as well, though more of a ‘problem for later’ versus ‘problem for now’ situation.
The Afflicted stacks themselves would increase by 1 for every sacrificial lamb killed by the party. Or, conversely, for every 15 seconds they went without attacking a mob. That second option though, didn’t reset the debuff timer, meaning their best bet, based on the knowledge the party had, was to keep killing mobs. And, given the floor was filled with creatures, that wasn’t really much of a problem. Especially when Elm, Z, and Faust all had extremely long-range skills and spells to keep aggroing additional mobs towards them.
“Surely you guys know about this skill,” Med Ic said as he stood beside Rua and James. He glanced first at Rue, before he shook his head, and focused his efforts on James. “Can’t you give us at least some sort of hint.”
James couldn’t help but feel Med Ic had just decided James was the easier one to persuade. A fact that would have hurt, had Med Ic not been spot on. Compared to Rue, James was a pushover. But right now, as he was, with everything that had just been placed on him, he wasn’t going to give in.
“Sorry man,” James said with a shake of his head. He was actively keeping track of a secondary screen of information, monitoring his buffs on Ifrit, ensuring he kept his summon in tip top shape. He had a feeling the massive Djinn would be needed in the next oh, minute or so, at the rate the adventurers were slaying sacrificial lambs.
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“Even if I knew, and could tell you,” James looked Med Ic in the eyes, his mouth spreading into it’s grotesque smile, the tusk like appendages making his lips stretch, “I doubt you’d truly want me to tell you. It’d take the fun of discovery away from you, wouldn’t it?”
Med Ic pursed his lips, glanced at Oak, and then back at James. Even as he spoke, Med Ic cast a healing spell, without looking back at Oak, on the Tank. Even with the stacks ever growing, the tank himself, at the very least, stayed topped off on health.
“Can you at least tell me what the trigger point is?” Oak countered. “Is this a 25 stack sort of debuff, 50, hundred? Thousand?” He shook his head, his tone going to a whisper, “I’ve no doubt when it hits its max something terrible is going to happen to Oak,” he chuckled, “I just need to know when and how, so I can best prepare for it for the rest of the party.”
He looked at James, pleadingly. And James cursed. Alright, he’d been premature. He was still a soft sucker.
“Fifty.” James said, the words escaping his mouth before he could even process he’d said them. How could he hold such information back from them? And it was harmless for the healer to know, right? There was nothing they could do to stop the stacks from gaining, unless they left the floor. And it had already been decided they were on a ride or die run, meaning they either cleared the floor, or died trying. Oak’s fate had been sealed the moment that first sacrificial lamb had rolled rapidly into his crotch, erupting in a localized explosion with impossible speed, and triggering the Afflicted status on him.
In the exact opposite of popular knowledge, these sacrificial lambs did not shun non-believers… They flocked to them. And with every slain sacrificial lamb, they got one step closer to summoning their deity.
“Before you ask,” James added, noting Med Ic’s look of victory at James’s previous slip of information, “I don’t know what will happen when it hits fifty.” A partial lie, of course. He knew the person with 50 afflicted stats would instantly die. He also knew that something called The Demonic Lamb would be summoned and would exist for 0.5s per the level of the afflicted individual, as well as an additional 0.5s per sacrificial lamb still alive on the floor.
Oak was level 84, meaning through levels alone that was 42 seconds in existence. James also knew there was a grand total of 75 Sacrificial Lambs on the floor, having dumped 150 of his 400 mob points into the 2-point mobs. Assuming half remained, whatever was summoned would last for a minute, maybe a little more, when it did come forth. Past that though, James really had no idea. He had no idea what level it would be, what it would look like, nor what its skills would be. He also didn’t know what it would do once it was summoned. Would they survive it’s arrival? Maybe? Hopefully. If any group could survive such a sudden thing, it would be Z and his group.
After that, well, James could only let his imagination run wild. Though… he checked Oak’s status, noting his affliction rate had reached 20, they wouldn’t be waiting much longer.
“Guess I’ll save my cooldowns,” Med Ic said as he turned away from Rue and James, back to his party that was battling the level 50 mobs all around them, “for whatever is to come. Assuming we don’t all mass wipe instantly,” he chuckled again, and glanced back at them, a full smile on his face, “I’m sure it’s going to be a moment to put my skills as a healer to the test.”
James shared a look with Rue, and the two of them shared a wide smile. Dealing with the unknown, fighting as a party against a unique foe. Those were the moments that gamers lived for. Those were the moments that the Knights Who Go Ni, that James and Rue lived for. Moments that made James question, deep in his mind, if he really wanted to even stop the government’s plan. Because from his current viewpoint, with his adrenaline pumping in anticipation, excitement rushing through him, life in DCO, at least for him, was so much better than the real world.