“I already know the answer, so I won't be mad. I just want clarification. I'm not getting a party when I make 100, right?” Tramda Olex handed up Captain Gromlin's head for disposal outside the submarine and climbed back down.
“Timing is key.” Ulrik rolled a head, knocked down no Gromlins, and covered his disgrace with a longer explanation. “Two, three of you hit cap at once and a batch party is feasible.”
Vinnette Melban poked her head in. “Oh, can we?”
“I don't see why not,” Clyse said. “A lot of us ended up bunched together at 90, so it'll be a photo finish. Expeditions allowing, of course.”
The next boss kill signaled it was time to check what the aforementioned expeditions allowed. The four returned to Freegate and learned they and Ipons Ulsrada were free for at least a few hours, and he agreed to join them for a foray into Part 2 Chapter 3.
“Not only that,” he said, “but Reginald handed me these notes in the courtyard so that we could refer to them when we wanted to know what was going on in the story.” He waved a sheaf of papers which Tramda snatched from his hand and tore without saying a word.
“Man, Reginald's getting to be more and more like a Strategist, isn't he? He told me you'd do that and gave me blank papers to show off. Don't worry though! I have real notes too!”
“I can't do anything about that. Let's just go.” Tramda tromped off to the walls, the others in her train.
“'The hero is provided with transport to the country of Archens by grateful islanders. He makes inquiries into Albennereon Fax's movements and is beset by ruthless killers.' I hope the hero makes it out OK.”
“I have a hunch he does. So what does everyone think of my home?” Clyse spun with an arm outstretched as if claiming possession of the inscribed pillars, the limestone-faced houses, and the background ziggurats and pyramids of the ancient civilization of Archens.
“Is that mummy guy from here? I suppose he is.”
“I like that they put these shade trees here, because it really is hot, and those Assassins must be sweating loads with those cloaks on, which makes it hard to do their jobs I bet.”
Alben Assassins assaulted the officers right there on the street in broad, pounding daylight. Storms threw shuriken and Quakes attacked with sickles for a few waves, at which point both were joined by Alben Guardians. Those continued to be adamant war machines of the Eclipse persuasion.
“I once feared and resented Eclipse enemies.” Ulrik dragged a Guardian in front of him to block flying shuriken. “Now they're a relief.”
Ipons imitated the maneuver. “I know what you mean, and I wish we could get every Rare to come so we could form real elemental teams, but we can't. You know how the loading screen has tips like telling players Flood beats Inferno and so forth?”
“You dare say that to me?”
“I was wondering if there's any way to get on those screens, like how Stan goes into the options, and you could point at the tips or run along the loading bar or do jumping jacks and make yourself the game's mascot.”
“I don't know. Aren't mascots usually cute animals? I want to be powerful. Quick Howling!”
“We're almost as powerful as we're going to get, and we gotta think about how to parlay that into advantages. Maybe we can throw our weight behind a UR and ride those coattails up!”
“What weight?”
“Public Service . . .”
“Princess Melban is right. Now that we make up a significant portion of the world's labor force, we sell our services. Bring in a placard that says, 'Quircy Rau for Halloween.' The price? Halloween event appearances.”
“Good plan!”
“My stuff gets replaced when I get sent out, so I have to wear a hair net in Cooking, etc. Is it different for you?”
“Terrible plan, just awful.”
“No. Fix it! Employ stratagems. Roll up a pamphlet and shove it somewhere. Live the Strategist life while I reap. Intimidating Strike! Archens is nice now that the heat is old news.”
“Thanks, Ulrik. I hope we do get a mummy event set here like some people are saying. I always thought of us as more Mesopotamian than Egyptian, but if it brings in tourists . . .”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
“You still won't be in it, though, because you don't really have anything to do with Havamal or Hyl DeMereanch. What? She won't! Don't look at me like that.”
“I know, Ipons.”
“What does Hyl have to do with it, anyway?”
“Uh, well, according to these notes, Tremdrado used to be part of Archens, but we don't go there in the main story.”
“Those notes need an editor. Resounding Howling! Howling, howling, ling, ling, ling.”
Alben's men obstructed them at every step, as was the custom. The Rares slaughtered their way through the city, which was another salutary custom, to a palatial residence adorned by statues of centaurs, kings, and rocket ships.
“Let me, all right, here it is. 'The hero accepts the invitation of Minister Beantim to come to his villa and discuss Albennereon Fax. He offers to help the hero in exchange for supporting the attempt of several ministers to depose Lord Protector Havamal. The offer is refused. The hero is trapped inside the villa, but fights his way out with the help of the enigmatic Figro only to find the coup is underway.' This hero sounds righteous and powerful. I hope he succeeds.”
“It's just Cadmos.”
“What, really?”
While Ipons Ulsrada's intellect struggled to reconcile its impressions of some generic dude hanging around Freegate with the dynamo of valor in Reginald's notes, the latest enemy type came down the staircase in Minister Beantim's foyer. Powerful muscles gripping the hilt of a broad and tall blade in both hands! Skin tones ranging from Mediterranean to tropical! Unlike the tropical islanders, who had impressive tans! The fury of Infernos! Archens Rebels tested their might against that of the officers.
And lost, but not by as much as might be hoped. Clyse was convinced to lay off the Taunting for a bit. “Should I get a second set of gear with better crit stats?”
“Chapter 4 has a red crit set. I read that in Gear Set Compendium (Revised). We can grind that out together when we get there, Clyse.”
“Oh, thank you, Tramda. I'd love that.”
“I couldn't find the revised edition anywhere! Hey, hey, what gear drops here, and what does it do?”
“I saw something about debuffs and my mind wandered.”
“OK. Thanks anyway, Tramda.”
“Cheer up.” Ulrik slapped Ipons on the back, and on the front, too. “No red, no purple, and no gold beats Mummy gear unless you can Refine and Enhance it. It's a marathon, not a sprint!” Smack. “An epic, not a distich!” Smack. “A diorama, not a cameo!” Smack.
“I don't have any Mummy gear, though.”
“Oh.” Ulrik considered that new information. “Then get some.” Smack.
None of that encouragement stopped either participant from mowing down Archens Rebels, though Ipons's class and Skill Star did. His youthful enthusiasm had some support from his favorable elemental affinity, at least. Owing to that, he killed a whole one guy.
Ulrik and Tramda exhibited a higher degree of productivity. They slew Rebels in sixes and eights, and even found some of that Archens Debuff Resist equipment that failed to grab the typical Warper's attention. After the load on Minister Beantim's payroll had been sufficiently lightened, his favorite pet leapt in to midboss it up.
“Call me a softy, but I'm feeling nostalgic,” Clyse said as she resumed Taunting since a Quake had shown itself.
“For a palette-swapped enemy from less than a month ago? I might have to call you worse than that, Clyse. Quick Cleave!” The Tame Sectiger ignored the Storm's attacks and grabbed her and Ipons Ulsrada with its powerful, disturbing upper limbs. “This doesn't make me more wistful!”
Ipons struggled in the beast's grip, animated by a single purpose he could never forgo, even if it cost him his very life. “Let's see. 'The hero has to fight the minister's pet to escape. In the Story fight a tamer throws meat to it that give buffs. Idle probably doesn't include that.' He's right, there's no tamer anywhere, unless maybe he was killed already by these AoEs flying around.”
“Let fly my AoE! Flames of Dovesk!”
“AoE heal! Emergency Diagnosis!”
“Here's my group-wide Selfless Redirect and Inferno Fortification! Grand Opening!”
“You mean those AoEs? The Novas that definitely have not been used recently? Because they're Novas. And only one of them does damage!”
“I was referring more to you, but I didn't think it would be polite to single out one ally like that.”
“I'll remember your consideration. Speaking of that, can anyone get me down from here?”
“I accept your challenge! Intimidating Strike!” Ulrik attacked the arm holding Tramda and succeeded in causing the Sectiger to Flinch but failed in making it let go. “I failed your challenge.”
“Try harder! You can do it!”
“Fine. Inferno Strike! The well is now dry.”
“Aaaaaagggghhh!” Tramda's teeth went to work on the offending arm. “Ptt! Hair!”
Vinnette Melban assisted by whacking the gripping claw. Her caduceus hit Tramda as often as the Sectiger, but her damage was low enough that neither minded.
“Clyse! Taunt it!”
“I am Taunting. It isn't hitting you, is it?”
“No, but I don't like being up here. The blood is rushing to my head and my feet will be all tingly later.”
“That is bad. Try not to move too much, Tramda.” Clyse spread her shears and started sawing through the luman-seizing limb. The Sectiger roared and swatted at her, for all that accomplished against a Champion with north of 70k HP, Regen, and a Strategist Defense buff. A Rare Strategist with level 1 skills, but nevertheless.
“Yee!”
“Whoa!”
Ipons and Tramda dropped, hit the Sectiger's back, and rolled off to the welcoming but firm floor when the midboss assaulted Clyse with all the claws it could spare. “Thanks Clyse! Resounding Howling!” Warper damage sped up the fight in an elementally limited kind of way. Lifebars shrank and died, thirty of them, and then the midboss reached the end of its days.
“Wow, that sure took a good, long time! It was pretty safe the whole way through, but we might have too much healing.”
“You might not want to point that out, Ipons.”
“Why not?”
“Because you're the one doing healing we don't need, stupid!”
“Well, yeah, I know that, Tramda. Should we be getting rid of me? We might be better off if we did, since we could conclude these fights with more dispatch.”
“I have considered the matter from every angle. Ditching you would be great. However, include the time it takes to return and find a replacement. Do we come out ahead?”
“Good point, Ulrik.” Ipons sighed. “I guess we'll have to go on as we are.”
Clyse leaned over to talk to Tramda during the walk to the next combat area. “Is he so dedicated a Strategist he's willing to sacrifice his own gain for success, or is he stupid?”
“Are those different?”