Mortimer, page 37
part #6 of Everybody Loves Large Chests Series
The first of the incantations, and also the only one Boxxy currently had access to, was Momentum Anomaly. Simply put, it projected a zone of mystic energy where the faster something moved, the heavier it became. The magic trick could protect against physical projectile attacks like throwing knives or arrows as it would throw them off-course, but that wasn’t its core use. Momentum Anomaly was the perfect tool to trap targets such as Rogues, Rangers, and Monks, who typically relied on fast and agile movements to survive. The faster they got, the sooner they would find themselves pinned to the ground under their own body weight. This aspect made Momentum Anomaly one of the few Spells that actually rose in effectiveness when used against higher Level opponents. Unfortunately, it would do very little when used against targets that didn’t move very quickly, such as most magic users, or individuals that could withstand the added weight, like Warriors or Paladins.
Which was just fine by Boxxy since its ultimate target was definitely faster than he was strong or smart.
The other Spells the shapeshifter would learn later on were Weightless Space at Level 4, Gravity Well at Level 7, and Magnetic Tilt at Level 10. The first did exactly as its name implied and rendered everything within its area completely weightless, while the second massively amplified gravity in an area. It was similar in effect to the Ultimate Skill of that crazy old Warlock VIP that Boxxy met and subsequently murdered during the siege at Fort Yimin, albeit on a smaller scale. The last Spell was arguably the most interesting, as it would shift the direction of gravity within its effective range.
Overall, it was an extremely flexible array of magic with a good deal of applications both in and out of combat situations. As an added benefit, they were all area-effect Spells, which meant they could be used in conjunction with Crystallize Magic. Truthfully speaking, though Boxxy was looking forward to playing around with them, it started to wonder just how many more tricks it needed in its repertoire. While flexibility and options were definitely a good thing, spreading itself out so much was starting to feel detrimental. After all, it was impossible for a single creature to fire arrows, fight with swords, and cast magic all at once.
Most importantly, its fight with Zilla had taught it that all the trickery and misdirection in the world was worthless in the face of overwhelming power. It ran through its recollection of that encounter countless times as it sat inside its Foundation cell. No matter how much it thought back on it, it just couldn’t see itself winning that first duel without an immense amount of luck. The only halfway acceptable outcome would have been if it had kept running and made its escape instead of turning around to face the thing in open combat. However, the sudden burst of reinvigorating energy it got from Chaotic Disposition had momentarily clouded its judgement.
It was more than a little ironic that if it wasn’t for that seemingly positive random outcome, Boxxy likely wouldn’t have died. It went to show how foolish the creature had been to rely on luck and trickery to take down an opponent that surpassed it so firmly. It would keep the harsh lesson in mind the next time it considered taking on something or someone that seemed beyond its means. Which was going to happen sooner rather than later, as it was already making preparations to stand up to one of the original twelve dryads.
A confrontation that, as far as it could tell, was not going to end peacefully.
“Arms,” it called out telepathically. “Progress report.”
“We’re still clearing the way, boss,” Kora replied. “There’s a lot of shit down here, so it’ll take at least a day or two more at this rate.”
“Ugh, ‘shit’ is right, though,” scoffed Drea. “I’m glad I’ve never had to wade through all that muck until now.”
While the djinn was taking advantage of Reggie’s brainwashing, the archfiend and the stalker were sent to investigate a certain dilapidated sewer tunnel. It was the same one that the monstrous troupe had used to first gain entry into what would later become the Dryad’s Domain dungeon. However, rather than the barely serviceable tunnel they were expecting, Boxxy’s familiars instead found a completely collapsed ruin. Judging by how the walls seemed to have exploded in a deluge of loose dirt and stone, the culprit behind that destruction was most likely the dryad herself.
Her ‘footprints’ at the scene answered how the passage had collapsed, and although Boxxy wasn’t completely sure, it could hazard a guess regarding the ‘why’ of things. After all, either the dryad was still under the orphaned dungeon core’s influence, or she wasn’t. If the former, she would probably perceive Boxxy as an intruder, an imposter, or both, and likely attack it on sight out of compulsion. On the other hand, if she had broken free, then she would have realized the shapeshifter had been manipulating her all this time. Given her partially monstrous nature, it wouldn’t be a surprise if she attacked it on sight anyway, albeit out of spite. Seeing as all known entrances into her trunk’s hollow parts were sealed, it was fairly obvious Boxxy had to deal with the latter case.
“I dunno, boss. Are we even sure that hole’s still there?” Kora grumbled.
“It better be. Otherwise we’re going to have a very hard time getting inside. And by ‘we’ I of course mean ‘you.’”
“Ugh, more manual labor. Wonderful.”
“Tell me about it,” chimed in Drea. “That old hag better appreciate all the trouble the master’s going through just to meet her.”
“Uh, not for nothing, bug-breath, but we’re the ones doing all the heavy lifting here,” the fiend argued.
“And you better do a good job of it, meat-head!” Xera weighed in. “This is Master’s triumphant return to its domain, and you need to make sure my beloved has an unobstructed path to victory!”
“Shut it, bubble-butt! Just because you got the easy assignment this time doesn’t give you the right to give me orders! Get your plump ass down here, then you can pretend to be in charge, alright?”
“As if! That place is filthy, untasty, and unshiny – it is entirely unworthy of Master’s prized Snack!”
“Oh, right, that reminds me,” Boxxy cut in. “Snack, you’re going down there to help out as soon as you’re done with your delivery.”
“Yes, Master! This worthless slut shall engrave the humiliation into the eternal darkness that is her heart, Master!”
“Yeesh, talk about a two-faced hypocrite,” Kora grumbled.
“That must be nice, being able to enjoy this sort of stuff…” lamented Drea to nobody in particular.
“Hey, boss? Not that I wouldn’t enjoy watching the Jizz Tornado try and fail to lift a rock over and over, but how exactly is she going to be of use? She’d only get in the way down here with those pathetic wanking noodles she calls arms.”
“I’ll have you know, my amped-up magic can easily melt stone,” the djinn snapped back. “I can burn a path to that root way before you can headbutt your way to it. And if the tunnel is sealed like the rest, then I’ll burn a hole through it, too!”
It was upon hearing those words that Boxxy, who was silently reading a book titled Treasures of the Horkensaft Kingdom in the Slyth mansion’s private library, suddenly had an epiphany.
“Yeah, because that worked out so well for you the last time you tried it, didn’t it?”
Thinking back on all of the truly formidable people and monsters it had met so far, it realized that each and every last one of them had a specialization – their own ‘thing,’ as it were. Hilda fought by honing her unyielding rage into a knife’s edge. Lichter focused on the synergies between his Paladin Skills and his enchanted equipment to maximize his performance. Faehorn was an expert sniper with range and accuracy second to none. Even Zilla seemed to have taken up lightning-based magic as his main weapon, despite being the amalgamation of a half-dozen monsters. And who could blame him, given the element’s near-universal effectiveness?
“Hey, I’m a djinn now! My magic is on a completely different level from before!”
Even Boxxy’s own familiars surpassed their master in their own areas of expertise despite being weaker overall. For instance, Snack’s ability to lay waste to her enemies with magic was unquestionably superior to Boxxy’s, and her knowledge of the arcane was surprisingly robust. Arms could withstand more punishment and boasted the highest muscle strength of any of them. Drea completely left the shapeshifter in the dust when it came to disappearing from sight and getting the drop on her targets.
“I think your Shameless Slut Job was the one that gained the most from your weird-ass Rank Up!”
Boxxy had nothing like that. It dabbled in a lot of fields when it came to combat, but none of them stood out as particularly noteworthy by themselves. Trying to look at itself objectively, it couldn’t put its finger on any sort of innate talent or natural gift it could develop into its own ‘thing.’
“Ugh. Can you two cut it out before the master gets mad at us again?”
“Shut it, Web-head. This is between me and the Hyper-bitch!”
Not that Boxxy didn’t excel at certain things. Its interactions with Reggie and Zilla proved it was really good at shapeshifting. It could bullshit its way through civilized life without too much difficulty, and its ability to copy and learn from others was a unique holdover from its mimic days. That was all well and good, but none of those talents would help it win a straight-up fight. All the deception in the world was pointless once its gimmicks were exposed and its back was up against the wall. That was bound to happen again if it wanted to go up against the Empire’s Spymaster and get revenge on him, which was most certainly in its long-term plans.
“Drea, don’t bother trying to reason with this thick-headed moron. She thinks she’s better than us just because she got lucky with a free Rank Up!”
Boxxy was also the Hero of Chaos, but the Skills associated with that title were uncontrollable by their very nature, so they couldn’t be relied upon.
“Seriously, I almost have enough ‘good girl points’ for a special massage…”
And it couldn’t just pick melee, ranged, magic, or stealth-based combat to focus on a whim.
“You weren’t complaining about my Ranked Up dicks when they were lodged in your ass last night!”
The sheer number of options at its disposal somehow made the decision even harder, as there were far too many pros and cons to weigh.
“Oh puh-lease! As if your tomato sticks could ever hope to compare to Master’s, hnnng, thoroughly invasive methods. You barely even qualify as a fuck anymore.”
That was to be expected, as there was no ‘best’ way to fight since each and every battle had its own set of unique circumstances.
“Wait, wouldn’t the entire Beyond see my breasts get fondled by master? Ah, but that does make me feel strangely excited…”
Focusing on just one thing was like playing Rock, Paper, Scissors by always picking Rock. It was just that some people did Rock so hard they were able to somehow crush both Paper and other Rocks with it. Could Boxxy reach that level of mastery if it committed to one discipline in particular?
“I’ll have you know, I get booty calls from the high bitch Teresa twice a week! I give her such a thorough dicking even her clergy can feel it!”
“And here I thought only Drea had a habit of fantasizing out loud!”
“… Wait, what?”
“Fuck you, bitch!”
“You wish!”
“Get down here and it won’t be a wish anymore!”
“I didn’t think all of that aloud, did I?”
“Are you three just about done?!” Boxxy cut in, its mental shouting laced with annoyance. “Daylight’s burning out there so quit your pointless bickering and focus on your assigned tasks!”
“Yes, Master! At once, Master!”
The three demons replied in total unison, their smiles plainly obvious through the tone of their broadcasted thoughts.
“I swear, it’s like trying to herd a gaggle of retarded cats,” grumbled the shapeshifter. “Now, where was I?”
Boxxy slumped back in Keira’s seat as it resumed its mental self-assessment, completely oblivious to the fact that the fierce loyalty it inspired in its demonic servants was already one for the record books.
Afterword
Not much to say after this one. Boxxy finally met its match, only to later get even in the most underhanded and malicious way possible. I felt bad tainting the house mimic name with an incorrigible bastard like Zilla, but fret not. He’s the exception. The rest of Mimic’s siblings are more or less just as dumb and innocent as the yipping box, though admittedly nowhere near as lucky. And yes, you will get to meet them eventually.
I’d also like to address what some people will consider a huge sore spot – Boxxy’s death and reanimation. It is my personal belief that a main character that never loses gets real boring real fast. There’s no tension, just spectacle, which is immensely difficult to convey via text. A bit of unpredictability is vital to spice up a story, but only when it works both ways – for and against the protagonist. Now, could I have handled it ‘better?’ Definitely. Would it have been as interesting? Absolutely not.
Then there’s Fizzy. I know we barely saw anything of her in the past few volumes, but I can’t force her into the story. I do have some good news for those that like her character. She’ll be back eventually, but not before going on her own little spin-off adventure appropriately titled Small Chests Are Fine Too. Be on the lookout for that! For those that don’t care about the shiniest golem ever, I have two things to say. First of all, how dare you? Secondly, feel free to skip the spin-off. It’ll be a self-contained story that has almost no impact on the main series, and the bits that matter will be referenced as appropriate.
As for Volume 7, it will have a fair bit more action than this one. Boxxy and its crew will be chasing after Fizzy on top of invading a dungeon or two, acquiring even more Levels, Skills, and weapons in the process. Don’t worry, there won’t be anything spoiler-y for those interested about the spin-off.
Lastly, I wish to thank all of you for continuing to support this stupid joke that’s gotten so far out of hand it’s fallen onto the floor and started rolling down the steps into the basement. I hope you all had fun and are keeping safe (and sane) in these chaotic times. And no, the God of Chaos is not responsible for 2020. If he was, there’d be a lot more cheese involved.
Toodles.
Neven Iliev, Mortimer
