Overpowered Wizard

Chapter 33: Grimrock Dealings

While Zarian dealt with hunger worse than he’d ever felt before, Jack Masters ran out of goblins to slaughter on the subterranean floors of Castle Grimrock.

Jack hadn’t expected this to become a problem.

At first, he’d taken his time practicing his new class and leveling up, avoiding large groups by singling goblins out. When facing his prey, he’d acted like a scavenger with legendary potential and ambushed lone goblins after they wounded themselves from in-house fights.

To Jack, it was more important to rise and survive than to take unnecessary risks. How else would he face the man he was meant to kill if he died off too early?

Once Jack grew more confident, he’d singled out the goblins who stood as the lamest and fought them head on. Then he’d fought against two goblins at the same time.

He’d increased the difficulty by fighting against three. He’d stopped upping the ante at five goblins, working up a good routine for a while.

He’d eventually fought over a dozen goblins lying in wait to ambush him.

He should’ve died. Instead, he’d thrived. He’d gone on a rampage from there, blasting apart scores of goblins with his star crossed hatred.

He’d imagined each goblin’s death as the man he would overpower and kill. He’d purged the subterranean floors of the dark, tainted, and corrupted goblins with a blazing fury.

He’d gotten so used to massacring the goblins he’d lost track of time and lost sight of leveling up efficiently. He’d grown far too strong for the goblins to give meaningful experience and run into a wall at Level 24.

Then the goblins stopped showing up, hence his current dilemma.

At least he wasn’t alone with his problems. Whenever he needed a break from life-and-death goblin slaying, he went to see the one ‘evil’ goblin he could tolerate.

Jack entered the Slave Cook’s kitchen to seek her wise counsel on how to continue his quest to grow powerful and destroy his sworn enemy. As always, the kitchen was a mystical sanctuary filled with food, herbs, refreshments, water, and even sweet beer.

The proprietor had mentioned going on runs to keep the place stocked, but Jack had never seen what the mystical kitchen looked like when Foodie wasn’t there. It felt like she had to be there when he needed proper sustenance and rest after long days of the grind.

There was always the sound of something sizzling on a pan or boiling in the pot. Or the sounds of the crackling flames from the oven and the heavy thunk of a large butcher knife striking on a cutting board, parting the flesh of meat or the bodies of vegetables.

Then there were the smells that hijacked Jack’s senses and took him far away from the pain and brutality he’d experienced, making him imagine a friendlier world without blood and vengeance.

At least for a moment.

Then Jack snapped out of it and saw things for how they were.

Foodie acted like a proper Non-Playable Character in a game. Easily predictable. Almost friendly, even if she reminded Jack of a stoic cat.

Jack didn’t like cats. They weren’t as obedient as dogs. But he made an exception for Foodie – even if she was so evil her presence made Jack’s good aligned nature feel on edge.

That would go away after the first ten minutes or so while around her. Still, the discomfort served as a reminder that the Slave Cook was evil just like Zarian.

Setting aside his singular focus to overpower and kill Zarian Darkrun, Jack looked at Foodie while washing his hands. She was working on a new meal with expertise that would make the most famous five-star chefs back in the old world beg for her tutelage.

She’d always mentioned how she was only feeding him her lowest stock. Yet her powers over stat growth were masterful.

He’d earned new stats at least twice now, netting an extra ten stat points overall because of Foodie’s magical cooking combined with his own efforts.

Surely, that was incredible, regardless of her insistence on giving him her worst meals. Jack could hardly believe that. It all tasted so amazing and would put him in a proper stupor for resting safely on a bedroll.

Jack sat at the table and examined Foodie’s back as she flipped over some meat on the pan. Her ears raised up slowly from down to up, signaling that she was more likely to listen if he wanted to start a conversation.

“I ran out of Goblin Corrupted to kill,” Jack explained. “They had been plentiful, then they stopped appearing.”

“Mother doesn’t see the point in feeding you weak goblins anymore.” Foodie shifted from one step ladder to the next and went to stir around today’s stew.

The smell wafting from the stew almost reminded Jack of something fishy. He hadn’t known she could cook fish. Where had she gone to get that?

No, don’t focus on that. Focus on her words. Jack shook his head and recalled what she had just said. The blood in his veins chilled, his eyes widening.

“Your mother? I believe you’ve once told me she’s the Grimrock Warlock,” Jack said.

Foodie nodded without looking back. “That would be her. She knows you’re here. She doesn’t feel the need to stop you after I told her what I know about you.”

Jack hesitated for a second, and in that hesitation he realized how he’d allowed himself to grow too soft around Foodie.

Yes, the food was delicious.

Yes, her abilities to encourage extra stat growth was phenomenal.

But Jack was the Star Crossed Hater, and his hatred needed to remain pure, sometimes cold, sometimes hot, but never satisfied or hesitant.

This place is its own trap, Jack realized. Like a honey pot. Like the carrot and the stick.

Jack stopped hesitating.

He let his hatred flow pure, unfiltered.

He rose from his seat at the dining area. His Star Affinity and Destroyer of Evil traits empowered him while he activated all four of his skills.

He charged a Star Bolt in one hand and conjured his Star Sword in the other hand. He prepared his White Immolation Shield to go off when an enemy attack drew close. His last skill, Star Crossed Judgment, was in his beta section, since it wasn’t immediately useful.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

He gave it some aura to make Foodie feel unnerved.

“I let you live because I find you useful, Slave Cook!” Jack shouted, his voice booming while backed by Star Crossed Judgment. “Don’t take my kindness for weakness or I will destroy you. Now tell me everything you told the Grimrock Warlock.”

Foodie didn’t turn around. She didn’t stop or freeze. She shifted from one step ladder to another to continue cooking.

Then she casually stepped down to the kitchen floor, picked up her step ladder, and took it to the kitchen island where she had chopped vegetables and herbs waiting for her.

“I’m serious!” Jack roared.

Foodie placed the step ladder down and climbed to the top. She gathered the ingredients together before pausing, ears moving up and down as she went into deep thought.

She muttered to herself about needing another spice before climbing down the step ladder and going off to the side to look through her supplies on the shelves. She tapped her foot and let out a scratchy hum, which was another one of her rare but unique quirks. She liked to croon and perform wordless songs while she cooked.

Jack snapped, letting his hatred fly as a white, sparkling bolt of captured star light. It packed the power of a high-explosive missile.

The Star Bolt streaked across the limited space of the kitchen while Foodie held a jar of crushed spices, a sack of herbs, and more ingredients in her hands.

The entire kitchen flashed with an air-shaking red light.

The Star Bolt stopped inches from hitting Foodie, the entire kitchen quaking. Then a loud roar like beast awakening resounded from all around Jack, making him fear for his life for the first time in a while.

Meanwhile, his powerful and destructive Star Bolt whirled into itself before getting snuffed away, leaving smoke and nothing more.

“You aren’t very smart for a vengeful and hateful human,” Foodie said, walking casually back to her cooking station with her ingredients. “The sanctuary’s safety measures are engaged. I told you how you’re safe here for twenty-four hours when the sanctuary is activated. As the owner of the sanctuary, I’m protected as well. I have the option of rejecting you.”

“I just want to know what you’ve told the Grimrock Warlock!” Jack’s heart pounded as he felt an encroaching pressure surrounding him.

He pointed his sword at Foodie and watched the magic saber run into an invisible wall, unable to cut through while sending sparks flying back at him.

“Don’t piss me off, Foodie, or you’ll regret it!” Jack warned, not really believing himself.

“You really do remind me of my mother,” Foodie said, now back in front of the stew.

She sprinkled in new ingredients as she stirred. Then she shifted to the other step ladder and removed the meat from off the stove top.

“Well, maybe you will get along with her,” Foodie said. “She wants Zarian Darkrun dead. She’ll even work with you to make that happen.”

Jack froze, dumbfounded. It was hard to come to grips with a potential offer from an evil warlock that would help him defeat his sworn enemy.

His heart of hatred saw it as an opportunity, overriding the more logical mind. If the Grimrock Warlock could provide for him, strengthen him, make it easier to defeat his sworn enemy, why wouldn’t he accept?

In the end, it was all for the greater good.

“You’re not even asking why she would offer that.” Foodie stopped for the first time to look at Jack. “Your hatred is certainly pure. But I’ve made a mistake.”

“What mistake?” Jack asked nervously.

He was caught in an invisible cage. If Foodie used the sanctuary’s power to end him, could he fight that?

“I thought helping you would be normal. Hatred. Vengeance. The singular focus for absolute power and strength. These are universal regardless of being good or evil. Perhaps it means more for evil, especially. Yet, after I examined your growth, I find it … pathetic.”

Foodie shook her head, the long braid hanging behind her swaying with the motion. “It was only for a short while, but I’ve met someone else I found more worthy of my attention. I wish for him to come back and take me from this place, and in return, I will serve him and his friends with my best cooking.”

Foodie sighed. “I shouldn’t talk about this aloud. It makes the wait harder. It is painful to be evil and to have hope for something more positive. The Good Goddess Hopeland can make hope extra torturous for those in the evil alignment.”

The more she talked, the angrier Jack felt. The angrier Jack felt, the more he saw sparkling white around his vision.

It had never occurred to him to ask who had come to the kitchen before him. It had never occurred to him to ask if he was getting the lowest and less desirable portions of her food stock, then who had gotten the best of her food?

Jack didn’t want to know.

But he had to ask.

“Who is it? Who’s making you talk like that? Who is it that’s getting your best food and making you smile like that?”

Foodie reached up and touched her face. She traced her claws over her little smile. Her ears went up and down, her eyes wide with surprise. Then she let out an uncharacteristic chuckle before grabbing the stew pot with one bare hand and taking it off the stove.

“Who else but Zarian Darkrun?” she replied.

Jack saw nothing but white, like he was in an impenetrable field of stars. He didn’t care if the sanctuary’s defenses were in his way. All he wanted was to destroy the infection set here by his sworn enemy.

And for a split second, the entire sanctuary shuddered, as if Jack’s destructive fury had taken it by surprise and nearly blew out whatever enchantments made it work.

Then Jack woke up with a killer headache.

His body hurt all over, covered in bruises, cuts, and burns. When he tried to sit up, he stopped as an overwhelming pain passed through him.

He had fractures, breaks, tears, and many internal injuries. But he was alive, and he was outside of Foodie’s kitchen.

The white hot rage returned.

Jack dragged his beaten body to the kitchen. He couldn’t let Zarian’s presence overtake treasures like Foodie and the mystical kitchen sanctuary.

If Jack couldn’t have them, then he would make sure Zarian couldn’t either – he would destroy Foodie and her kitchen. But when he tried to pass through the doorway and get down the steps, an invisible force rebuffed him.

He tried and tried, but he kept getting thrown back.

“Foodie!” Jack shouted. “I won’t forgive this betrayal! You will pay for this! You know Zarian is off limits! How can you do this to me? We could’ve been friends!”

Foodie ignored him as she set a table up for a meal.

Jack felt a sliver of emotional distress. He didn’t ‘love’ Foodie or anything as ridiculous as that. But her food and her offer of rest at the sanctuary were the few bright sides that contrasted all the darkness and pain of leveling up and murdering monsters alone.

Jack recognized the emotional attachment and blamed it solely on Foodie for making this horrible trap.

Then he let his rage consume him. This was Zarian’s fault. It was all his fault!

He’d infected Foodie before Jack could set her straight. Zarian had poisoned the well and salted the earth, leaving nothing good and sacred.

“Foodie,” Jack called. “I will come back stronger. I will destroy this poisoned place. I will purify you from Zarian’s evil influence. This isn’t over.”

The little goblin finished setting up her meal and climbed onto the seat, her little feet kicking back and forth with plenty of space to spare from the floor. She lowered her head and ears and closed her eyes.

She prayed openly to the Shadowfell Goddess. Then she had a meal alone.

And ignored Jack.

As if he meant nothing to her.

Jack watched from the outside for longer than he cared to track. Then he dragged himself down the hallway, his vision fading in and out, his pain increasing.

If the other goblins found him, this would be their best chance to kill him.

One did find him. But he remained alive.

She was unlike any goblin he’d seen before. She was tall, pushing past six feet. She was dressed maturely in an intricately tailored purple and silver gown matched by a pair of tall, dark heels. Her skin was dark green, close to the black of the Corrupted, while still having hints of her original hue.

Her face reminded Jack of Foodie, but she smiled more often and had wrinkles that her makeup couldn’t hide.

“I hear you have immense hatred for what could be a troublesome pest,” said the Grimrock Warlock. “And you’ve run afoul of my misguided and woeful daughter. Let us come to an understanding.”

“An understanding?” Jack groaned, looking up from the ground before her.

“The pest … is a mutual enemy. And my daughter is a precious, precious treasure who needs to remain under ‘our’ control. What do you say, Jack Masters?”

“Will you help me become stronger so I can kill him?”

“Oh, human, I’ll do better than that. I’ll help you learn how to defeat adventurers all on your own. I have knowledge of hunting grounds and the many ways to beat other pesky humans. You’ll be so prepared, Zarian Darkrun will beg for your mercy before you end him.”

Jack struck a deal with the warlock of Castle Grimrock.