Everybody Loves Large Chests

Birds Of A Feather 7

Two raptors were sneaking through the dense jungle, their slim bodies gliding between the foliage while making minimal sounds. Their names were Thisk and Rask, a pair of brothers that hailed from the Greentail tribe, which was known mostly for farming, fishing, hunting, and other activities related to food production. These two in particular were hunters, though their quarry today was not meat. They were looking for hydra eggs, which were typically as big as a person’s head and laid in clutches of ten to fifteen at a time. Their nutritional value was high enough for a single one to feed three people for a whole day, and when cooked right were delicious enough to be considered a delicacy.

As one might imagine, however, raiding a hydra nest was easier said than done. More often than not, the eggs would be guarded by a fully grown female with as many as nine serpentine heads and her equally terrifying mate. Taking on those sort of things with just two people was borderline suicide. Even if they somehow won the fight, there was a good chance the eggs would get smashed up in the scuffle, defeating the point of the encounter.

Which was why Thisk and Rask were taking the silent approach. Their target for today was the nest of a particularly nasty hydra referred to by locals as ‘Black Betty,’ named after the color of her scales. The biggest and toughest monster in the region, this self-proclaimed queen had grown quite complacent resting on her laurels and could often be found lazing around. To top things off, it was now high noon with absolutely zero clouds in the sky, which were just the sort of conditions that tempted hydras into napping while sunbathing. All the Greentail brothers had to do was make sure they snuck in, grabbed the goods, and ran away before their Odor Blocker elixirs wore off and Black Betty caught their scent. They had pulled off egg heists like this many times before, so it really was just another day at the office for them.

As they approached the nest in question, however, they began to hear odd sounds. Not the orchestra of hissing, the rhythmic heavy stomping or the guttural snoring that usually gave those massive snake-beasts away. No, this noise was a combination of wet squelches and sporadic snapping, which would suggest Black Betty had found herself a sizeable lunch. The area around her nest was always deathly quiet, so Thisk and Rask were able to easily identify those sounds as being the result of one monster feeding upon another. Which still worked out for them, as it meant their ‘host’ would sleep soundly with a full belly. After nodding at one other to quietly affirm their intentions matched up, they slowly and silently poked their heads through a series of thick bushes they normally used for cover.

However, it would appear their deduction was slightly off. What they saw could still be described as one monster feasting upon the other, but it was Black Betty who had become prey. Squatting on top of her bloodied, house sized corpse was a harpy the likes of which they’d never seen. Which wasn’t surprising considering harpies were not native to this continent, but even experienced northerners would be taken aback by this one’s odd features. Black-haired, white-winged, brown-furred, cat-eared, covered almost head-to-talon in fresh blood, completely naked, and far prettier than she had any right to be. The mix of brutality, beauty and supple thighs made her give off a strong atmosphere of animal magnetism. Even the raptor brothers found themselves momentarily mesmerized by the sight, despite the fact that neither of them had a smoothskin fetish.

Unfortunately for them, they ended up lingering just a little too long. As the winged female ripped out another handful of hydra flesh to feast on, her head suddenly snapped towards her voyeurs, locking her yellow eyes with theirs. Realizing they’d been found out, the brothers made an attempt at running, but the griffin-harpy was on them before they could make more than a few steps. She landed on their upper backs, pinning them to the ground beneath her powerful legs. Her feet clenched around their shoulders and necks, digging her talons deep into their scales.

Having caught an egg poacher in each of her leathery grasps, the cat-bird-woman began flapping her wings, dragging them up into the air with her. Her victims naturally screamed and pleaded, but their captor had grown deaf to pleas of mercy long before she had officially become a monster. The raptors also struggled, of course, with the one called Rask trying to stab at the massive foot with his dagger, only to have the weapon bounce off the skin with a metallic clang, inflicting a total of zero damage. His brother Thisk attempted to pry himself free the hard way, but his efforts were met with similarly futile results.

Jen, on the other hand, was feeling rather disheartened underneath her blood-soaked, ice-cold facade. Boxxy had told her to get in touch with her primal side in order to better understand her new instincts, but she hadn’t realized she had strayed this close to civilized territory. Her new owner wanted to keep her existence a secret as much as possible, so being found out by these amateurs made her feel inadequate, unqualified even. At least correcting her mistake would be simple enough, as she just had to dispose of the witnesses.

Catching them was simple enough, but she began to wonder what the best way to get rid of them was. They had reached an altitude of about a hundred meters by now, so simply dropping them would probably be enough to make them go splat against the ground, right? No, wait, that was a terrible idea. They were in the middle of a jungle filled with trees, leaves and branches - plenty of things that could break someone’s fall. What about bringing them back to Boxxy as a sort of gift? No, that wasn’t a good idea either since she would have to admit she messed up.

That message was rather fortunately timed, as it reminded Jen that she should decide on this quick. Though the Griffin Skill in question allowed her to fly despite her wingspan being too small for her weight, it gradually drained MP- or in Jen’s case, Ki - while it was in use. Its efficiency would go up significantly as it increased in Level, but at this moment she had a rather limited time frame where she could maintain her flight. Which was made even shorter by the two dead weights she was dragging along.

“P-p-please! Put us down! We promise we won’t tell anyone!”

“We didn’t mean any harm! We just wanted to eat! Was that so bad?!”

The constant whining and winging from her two captives wasn’t helping her think clearly, either. In fact, they had been growing significantly more annoying with each syllable, to the point where Jen wanted to shout at them to-

“Just! Shut! Up!”

*CRUNCH*

“Ah… oops.”

Her anger had momentarily gotten the better of her and she ended up squeezing down on them with her feet hard enough to crush their upper bodies into paste, killing them instantly. It might have been unintentional, but it was certainly one way to silence them. All she had to do was let go of their corpses and let some lucky monster on the ground gobble up their remains. The thought of having a taste for herself did cross her mind, but she still had some reservations about eating people.

Harpies were omnivorous anyway and she much preferred fish to begin with, so it wasn’t as if she necessarily had to chow down on everything she killed. The only reason she was even bothering with that hydra meat was because she had worked up an appetite while fighting it. Its massive HP pool and seemingly endless regenerative abilities made it so resilient that it took more than half an hour of ripping heads off before it finally died. Eating it raw was a bit disgusting, but having worked hard for the meal made it oddly satisfying at the same time. Meanwhile the toxicity of the blood, while lethal to anyone without the Monk’s absurd poison resistance, gave the meat a spicy flavor she didn’t expect, but didn’t necessarily dislike, either.

To put things simply, the hydra was tasty in its own way, though Jen felt she would’ve enjoyed the meal a lot more if it were a properly prepared dish, perhaps with a serving of vegetables.

That aside, why was she still holding onto the dead raptors? Didn’t she decide to let go of them and let the jungle handle the corpse disposal? It was the most logical and time efficient solution, yet she felt strangely unwilling to release her grip on their remains. Just the opposite, something within her demanded she squeeze down on them even harder, tempted her, even.

So she did just that.

*SQUELCH*

*SNAP*

*BLORCH*

And it felt amazing. Feeling their bones splinter and break between her toes was such a satisfying sensation that it made Jen shiver and shudder with delight. The sensation was likely caused by some hitherto unknown monster instinct waking up inside her, but questioning it was not high on her priority list right now. It felt so good she was downright disappointed when the mangled bodies within her talons’ grasp exploded and fell apart like rotten vegetables. Eager to experience more of that exhilarating feeling, Jen spent the next few hours grabbing and squeezing the life out of various things. Orcs, baby hydras, sentient man-eating flowers, giant crocodiles, overgrown insects, random adventurers - all were put to the stress test of her bird-feet’s vicious grip. None of them survived.

“Ah… oops.”

Jen had gotten so engrossed in what she was doing that she completely forgot that she had hit Level 5 in both of her new Jobs after killing that black hydra. She was still deciding on what new Skills to take when those two raptors rudely interrupted her celebratory luncheon. Then she got carried away exploring her newfound hobby. And now she was here. In the middle of nowhere. Still completely naked. Covered in orc blood and brains from that warlord whose head she just crushed between her thighs.

Realizing she’d gone slightly overboard and was running a bit late, Jen decided to head back for now, though not before she found a running stream to wash herself off in. Once she had soaked herself neck-deep in the cold and clear water, she resumed considering her new Skill options. It was a bit odd that her Griffin and Harpy Jobs were so perfectly synced when it came to XP gain, but it made sense when considering she needed both of those at Level 25 to Rank Up. She had no idea what a griffin-harpy would evolve into, but it was an exciting prospect nonetheless. Almost as exciting at how quickly her new Jobs were growing in Level, as it had been many decades since she had the chance to experience this sort of explosive growth.

It was just a little, but she could now somewhat understand why and how Boxxy went from a harmless critter to the indomitable creature it was today in as little as three years.

The two new Skills Jen settled on were the ones she thought would have the most impact. The first of them was something Boxxy had absorbed by chance while traveling through the Empire. A hylt creeper had little to no use for it, but for a harpy like Jen it allowed her to rapidly gain altitude by conjuring a powerful updraft underneath her wings. Not only did it function as a way to let her disengage from ground-based enemies, but it also increased her maneuverability while she was already in flight. The latter of those was especially useful since three-dimensional mobility was of utmost important when it came to aerial combat.

Rip and Tear, on the other hand, was a passive Griffin Skill that amplified the slashing damage of her claws and talons, as well as any lingering bleeding damage they inflicted. It had a good amount of synergy with her Path of the Tiger Skill, since many of its Martial Arts were designed to draw copious amounts of blood. And that was before the effectiveness of said Arts had been significantly improved by virtue of her newly acquired bestial features. She didn’t even need to use them to rip someone’s throat out, but they certainly helped.

Her kicks had developed the most, however, as her legs felt nearly twice as powerful as they used to be. The altered ankle joint especially allowed her to produce whip-like blows with greater ease and force. The foot and toes were so dexterous that they almost felt like an extra pair of hands, making it theoretically possible to swing a staff with just her legs. Jen wasn’t sure why she’d want to do that or what use would it be, but it definitely seemed like an option. The deadly talons at the tips of her new toes were not to be underestimated, either. She hadn’t had the chance to test them against metal armor yet, but she had a feeling they could punch through enchanted steel plate as if it were paper.

Having finished bathing and picking new Skills, Jen pulled herself ashore and shook off what water she could. She needed to let her wings dry off a bit before she flew off, though, as water was the Bane of many flying feathered monsters, including both griffins and harpies. Not only did being drenched made it difficult for Jen’s innate wind magic to assist in keeping her feet off the ground, but she would take nearly twice as much damage from water-based attacks. All things considered though, it was rather convenient as far as elemental weaknesses went since there were very few purely water-based offensive Spells available to adventurers. The only ones she had to worry about were Shamans and Cryomancers, mostly the latter since most of their ice magic employed water in addition to cold.

Well, there was also technically the Hydromancer Job, but it was so lackluster compared to other Caster Jobs that the few idiots that still relied on it were rightfully ridiculed as ‘splashy boys.’

Thankfully for Jen, she didn’t have to find out about her Bane the hard way as Boxxy had. The Monk had spent so much time playing and fighting with her former colleague Bandit’s pets that she ended up learning almost everything there was to know about griffins. One such piece of trivia was the fact that harpies were one of the species used in their creation, as they were one of the few flying monsters that were also mammals. Admittedly the Monk wasn’t a hundred percent clear on the details, but she heard it was vital that all the creatures that made up a chimera shared a reproductive system. Something about giving the new species the ability to procreate and stabilize.

That said, even Jen found it both weird and unsettling that a griffin-harpy hybrid like herself even existed, as it was impossible for a person-sized harpy to survive being bred by a house-sized griffin.

However, it would appear that the world ‘impossible’ did not exist in Benjamin’s dictionary. Or if it did, its definition was most probably scribbled over with crude drawings of flowers, pancakes, and butts. And the reason why the Monk came to this unnecessarily colorful conclusion was because, as of last night, she was officially a Disciple of Chaos. The conversion was relatively simple, since it just involved Fizzy saying a few prayers and performing a short ceremony that ended with her breaking Jen’s nose with her mithril fist. Jen suspected that last bit of the proceedings might not have been a legitimate part of the ritual, but she wasn’t about to complain about the results.

Initially she had only accepted the deal to get rid of that Faithless Servant ‘Perk,’ which prevented her from gaining FTH. This was a problem, as that Attribute determined the maximum amount of Ki she could store up. Her relatively low Ki reserves had always been a bit of an issue, so the amount she lost after Axel ‘fired’ her could have been a crippling blow. One could argue that she could just use MP instead, but many of her Skills - including her Ultimate - had to be fueled with this Monk-only resource. She was therefore rather pleased that her converting to Seth’s religious order not only got rid of Faithless Servant, but also refunded the 25 points of FTH she lost when she first got hit with it.

However, matters of religion and faith were never as simple as numbers ticking up and down on one’s Status screen.

The instant Jen accepted chaos into her heart and spleen, she felt something she had never experienced in a lifetime of service to Axel - the presence of her God. She just wished said presence didn’t manifest itself as the occasional distant, barely audible cackle and a dream where she was a perfectly round turnip bouncing atop a pile of pink fish. She would have seriously doubted her own sanity if Fizzy didn’t warn her ahead of time that their patron did not seem to take his job too seriously.

Wallace did have his good sides, though. Like the fact that he was always there to listen, and that he seemed to strive for quality rather than quantity when it came to his worshippers. He also didn’t seem to be the type of control freak that would strip away one of his strongest followers’ faith without so much as hearing them out, even though that was the first time he’d even deigned to notice them. Literally all the Goddess of Dice Rolls required of his followers was that they be interesting and did his best to avoid directly interfering with their lives.

It has been known to happen by accident though, like the time Patricia inadvertently sent two of her followers and her own Hero on a three-month-long wild goose chase. Boxxy and Fizzy had never quite forgiven her for that one.

As for the Disciple of Chaos Skill, Jen had to admit she was a bit skeptical about how useful it was going to be until she tried it for herself. Her doubt was understandable since it had zero combat applications, but the way it guided her towards her larger and loftier goals was honestly mind blowing. All she had to do was sit down and meditate really hard on something she wanted to find or had to do. Then, after an undetermined amount of time doing that, she would suddenly know which way to go in order to find a thing, almost like a homing instinct she could control.

It wasn’t without its flaws, however. It didn’t always work and had outright led her the wrong way at least once, but she was slowly getting the hang of it. One of the tricks she was able to figure out was that the more abstract and generalized her objective was, the more likely it was that she would be guided to what she was truly after. Finding that rare black hydra, for instance, was a result of her attempting to locate ‘a living punching bag.’ With its mountains of HP, tough hide and seemingly endless regeneration, it turned out to be the perfect opponent to let Jen put her new body through its paces.

Disciple of Chaos was also really useful in her current predicament, as Jen had no idea where she actually was. All that flying around and crushing things to death within her talons’ grip for fun had gotten her completely turned around and totally lost. That was why she was currently sitting down on the ground cross-legged with her eyes closed. She directed her thoughts not towards the Rancid Summit specifically, but ‘a really hostile place full of poison and plants.’ The answer came to her before her wings had even fully dried off, but she didn’t wait and immediately headed off towards the general direction she felt was right.

Well, technically it was on her left, but it was nevertheless the correct way seeing as how she arrived at her destination without too much difficulty.

*CLANG CLANG CLANG*

The rhythmic echoes of Fizzy’s smithing greeted the harpy as she entered the hollow core-lit cavern. That was only to be expected considering the golem had been at it for forty eight hours straight with no signs of stopping. She had even used her authority as a dungeon master to create a massive forge and workshop, right beneath the crystal core. Fizzy’s three alter egos were also there, but they were too busy playing some kind of card game to actually help her out.

“Hey, Jen’s back!” Plus suddenly exclaimed. “How’s it going, number one disciple?!”

*CLANG CLANG*

“Oh no you don’t!” Minus snapped at her. “You’re not going anywhere until you finish this hand!”

*CLANG CLANG*

“Her probability of victory is zero point five three three percent,” Null’s mechanical voice chimed in. “Surrender is her wisest and most expedient course of action.”

*CLANG CLANG*

“But then I won’t get to rub her face in it!”

*CLANG*

“Girls, do you mind keeping it down?” Fizzy shouted from the side. “I’m in the middle of something here!”

“Yes, boss,” the other three replied in unison.

Minus and Null returned to killing time, while Plus went over to properly greet her ‘number one disciple.’ And she wasn’t calling her that just because Jen was the multi-faceted golem’s only disciple. The Monk had proven herself to be a cooperative and attentive student that was eager to serve. Almost too eager though, at least in Minus’s opinion.

“Boxxy stopped by a few hours ago,” the bubbly personality stated in a low voice. “It had to leave to take care of something else, but not before it dropped off some stuff for you over there.”

She pointed towards a small table resting against the nearby wall. Jen’s eyes went uncharacteristically wide in shock when she saw what lay on top of it. It was her old Artifact-grade staff, the same one she had lost in the battle of Watford. That greedy ‘ganger must have collected and stowed the weapon away since it was a valuable piece of equipment, and was now giving it back to her since the shapeshifter didn’t have a better use for it. The ex-angel walked over and picked it up, feeling its familiar weight and heft. Her claws and talons were excellent weapons, of course, but they just couldn’t match up to the destructive power of her oldest and arguably only friend.

“Don’t forget the clothes,” Plus added.

Only after hearing those words did Jen realize there were several pieces of gear next to where the staff was. One of them was a revealing yellow outfit consisting of a cross-top, a cloth neck brace, and a three part skirt - the same one she was wearing when that whole Gauntlet thing happened. Though seemingly not all that durable or protective, this clothing was specially enchanted to help circulate her Ki better, thereby improving the efficiency of Skills that used it. It was also loose enough that she could still wear it comfortably enough despite her increased bulk.

Laid out on the table next to the unnecessarily revealing outfit were a purple cloth sash, a leather belt, a pair of leather bracers and a few other accessories.

“Requesting clarification - did Boxxy have these specially made for me?”

“Probably not, I’m pretty sure it already had them lying around,” the mithril woman shrugged. “Boxxy has a lot, and I mean A LOT, of random stuff stored away. I don’t personally approve of its hoarding habits, but they do come in useful at times like this.”

“Agreed.”

Jen certainly wasn’t about to complain about getting some actual gear so soon. She was pretty sure she had torn her old equipment to shreds during one of her violent fits during the transformation, but it would appear Boxxy had done her the favor of getting it fixed up. It probably wasn’t all that difficult for that shapeshifter to do since this type of garb was something of a specialty of the local artisans. Jen was nevertheless glad to have them back in addition to the new bits and pieces, as she didn’t like walking around naked if she could help it.

Not because of shame or humility though. She had done away with those bothersome things many years ago. Her problem with walking around in her birthday suit was that only a hopeless idiot wouldn’t take advantage of wearing magic items if they had the option to do so. Not to mention that she needed something to hold her breasts in place. Her combat style was very mobile and athletic, so having those things bounce around made it unnecessarily hard to maintain her balance.

With those things in mind, she quietly slipped into the provided gear as Plus helpfully listed off how each of them had been enchanted. The items bore bonuses that would be useful to the monstrous Monk, such as water resistance, fire resistance, and generous Attribute boosts to her AGI, STR, END, and even FTH. Jen was quite thankful for these, especially since she personally found them aesthetically pleasing. Practicality came first, of course, but if one could look good without sacrificing performance, then there was no reason not to. Granted, that part was most likely coincidental rather than deliberate on Boxxy’s part, but she wasn’t about to look a gift chest in the hinges.

“Hehe, you seem to like ‘em, don’t you?” Plus noted with a delightful smile.

“… Requesting your pardon?”

“Even if you insist on acting cool and collected, your voice and tail are pretty honest.”

Only when Plus mentioned it did Jen realize she had subconsciously been letting out a quiet purring noise not unlike a common house cat, though much deeper in tone. As for the fluffy appendage poking above her toned backside, it was pointing almost straight up and swaying gently, again without her knowledge or permission. It would appear that, though the Monk had been trained to hide her emotions, these new body parts had a mind of their own.

“Well, kind of you to finally show up.”

Her moment of poorly concealed joy didn’t last long, however, as Fizzy had put away her smithing hammer and was walking over with a scowl on her face.

“You’re late. You were supposed to be back here at noon.”

“Dispensing apologies. Reporting that there were unforeseen circumstances.”

“That’s a nice way of saying you lost track of time because you were too busy playing around with your new strength, isn’t it?”

“… Affirmative.”

Jen wouldn’t have described her behavior quite like that, but she wasn’t going to argue semantics when she was the one in the wrong.

“Well, I can’t say I don’t understand what you’re going through. I went through a period of acclimation as well when I gave up on being a sniveling weakling of a meatbag. I know how hard it can be to keep those new and unfamiliar urges in check.”

“Hah, that’s one way to put it,” the mithril doll next to her chuckled. “She used to strip herself without realizing it. Took her weeks to break that habit. Not to mention the exhib-”

“Plus,” Fizzy calmly interrupted her, “why don’t you go back to the others? I think they’re waiting for you to start another round of Imperial Poker.”

“Oh, right-o! Later, Jen!”

The positively-charged construct skipped away, leaving the other two to talk in peace.

“Listen, meatbag,” the golem said in a stern tone. “I don’t give a damn where you go and what you do with your time. I don’t even care if you die in a ditch and are never heard from again. But Boxxy does. It put a lot of time and effort in you, so it was quite cross when you failed to show up at the agreed upon time. Living a double life as Keira Morgana is a full-time job, so it doesn’t have a lot of free time on its schedule. The last thing it needs is for you to mess up its timetable by not being where and when you are supposed to be. Understood?”

“Affirmative,” Jen nodded. “Expressing desire to dispense apologies at earliest convenience.”

“Apologize all you want, but you took an Oath of Arms. Next time you slack off you just might end up as a faithless wench again. And that’s only if you’re lucky.”

Jen scowled inwardly at those words, though not because of that ‘wench’ comment.

“Reporting that said Oath was completely unnecessary,” the harpy claimed. “I’d never betray Master.”

“… Do you mean Boxxy?”

“Confirm that that is indeed what I said.”

“Uh, no you didn’t. Pretty sure you said ‘Master’ just now.”

“Ah… oops?”

“Don’t get me wrong, Boxxy is pretty great, but ‘Master’ seems a bit much.”

Jen agreed with that assessment. While the shapeshifter was certainly a benefactor, their relationship wasn’t something she would describe as ‘master-servant.’ They were boss and employee at best, so how come that word slipped out of her lips in such a natural and effortless manner? Thinking back on the events of the last twenty four hours, Jen realized this wasn’t the first time she’d accidentally referred to Boxxy as ‘Master’ or ‘owner,’ either. Did it do something to her mind while she was passed out to make her more obedient? No, that didn’t seem to be the case. The shapeshifter had stated multiple times it wanted Jen to expand her horizons on a mental level more so than a physical one. Twisting her psyche with magic would surely be counter-productive to that goal.

Unless, of course it was lying to her face, but Boxxy would never do that to-

“Ah!”

And then, like a bolt out of the blue, realization finally hit her. Through some miracle of luck, she had become part griffin, and as such shared some of their instincts and mannerisms. And one of the things that set griffins aside from all other monsters was that they imprinted upon the first living thing they saw after birth, even if it was of a different species. This trait was what made them so abnormally loyal for a monster, as some part of them genuinely saw themselves as their handler’s ‘child.’

Which was precisely what had happened between Boxxy and Jen, as the former was the first thing the latter had seen after immediately after her rebirth.

“Reporting that I have determined the cause of that verbal slip. Explaining that this body recognizes Boxxy as a parental unit due to presence of griffin instincts.”

“Oh-kay? That’s super wierd, even for a nutjob like you,” Fizzy remarked with disbelief in her tone. “Still, I hope that’s true for your sake. Trust me, you don’t want to get… educated as I was.”

“Curiosity engaged. Requesting clarification on Fizzy’s training method.”

“It was an endless stream of mental and physical abuse as basic survival and combat skills were literally beaten into me over the course of a month. Don’t get me wrong, I’m much stronger because of it, but it was without a doubt the lowest and most miserable point of my life. To be honest though, I think the sleep deprivation was probably the worst part.”

“Don’t forget the rape!” Plus shouted from across the room.

“Yeah, that too.”

“Rape?” Jen asked, her voice showing a hint of confusion. “Questioning whether Mas- Whether Boxxy has deviant preferences.”

The Monk understood that, from a biological standpoint, genderless creatures like mimics and doppelgangers should not possess things like libidos or fetishes. Yet as unlikely as it was for Boxxy to have these things, Jen couldn’t help but remember the time she saw the notes Edward had taken during his interrogation of the creature. Especially the words ‘perverted box,’ which had been circled and underlined for some unknown reason.

“Nah, nothing like that,” Fizzy brushed the ludicrous statement off. “From Boxxy’s point of view, it was just a shapeshifting practice session that got a bit out of hand. I assure you, there was no other intent behind it.”

There was more to it, of course, but the golem would rather not dig up those unpleasant memories, so she did her best to change the subject.

“Anyway, Boxxy said it’ll drop by around sunset. I strongly suggest you wait here until it comes back.”

“Understood and agreed.”

“Good. And while you’re here, how about you make yourself useful and help me with my current project?”

“Affirmative. Requesting assignment.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

The golem cracked a rather unnerving smile and stretched her right hand out towards the workshop behind her. It was only at this point that Jen noticed the vertically challenged Paladin had a mithril band of some kind bolted around the width of her palm. Her body momentarily crackled with electricity as she kicked her internal power generator into a higher gear. In the next instant, a steel hammer with a weirdly shaped cylindrical head flew out of her workshop and towards her extended hand, allowing Fizzy to snatch it out of the air by the shaft.

“You’d be perfect to help me calibrate my new DILDO.”

“Requesting clarification on what you are referring to,” Jen asked in a rapid monotone.

“Oh? Just my Direct Impact Lightning Discharge Oscillator.”

The golem firmly tapped her prototype weapon’s business end against her open palm a few times, producing a series of crackling sparks every time it touched her frame.

“Here, let me show you how it works!”

She then swung the thing with all her might, only to get bird-kicked in the face hard enough to make her stumble backwards for a step before her hit could connect. Fizzy shook the blow off as if it was nothing more than a light shove and stared at Jen with even more ferocious glee than before.

“You were supposed to let me hit you!”

“Ah.”

The corners of Jen’s mouth curved ever-so-slightly upwards.

“Oops.”

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