Strength Based Wizard

Chapter 20

How to Win Friends & Level Up, Part V (Team Building Exercise)

The trees explode outward as something massive breaks through the forest and lumbers into the clearing.

Another pig. This one is gigantic, easily dwarfing the Bubblegum Piglet.

If someone had taken one of those sugar-dusted marshmallow Peeps, inflated it to the size of a truck, and then decided, “Hey, let’s make it nightmare-fuel,”—that’s what’s standing in front of me right now.

Its eyes—two perfect spheres of crystalline rock candy—scan the clearing, slow and deliberate, until they lock onto me.

A System notification pings in my vision:

Monster Identified: Sweets Sow

Level 10

Sugar-Fiend Swine

Level Ten?!

That’s nearly double my level. Something pulses within me, screaming at me, telling me how dangerous this thing is. We need to run!...

“Remain calm,” Clyde mutters. His voice is soothing, like he’s trying to talk down a drunk friend from picking a fight with a lamppost. “Slowly back away.”

“Yeah, okay,” I whisper back, already moving.

I crouch down, hands achingly slow, reaching for my backpack. No sudden movements. I keep my eyes locked on the marshmallow monster in front of me, barely daring to breathe. My fingers brush the strap and I pull the backpack to myself, picking it up off the ground.

And then—

Plop.

Oh no.

I glance down.

Jelly Boy.

The little guy must’ve shifted when I moved, because he just rolled out of my bag like a loose marble. He lands with a wet slap on the mossy floor.

For a second, he just sits there, jiggling slightly. Adjusting. He turns his body to the left, then the right, taking in his surroundings.

Then he notices the pigs. The piglet is still sopping up maple snail brains. The mother is now locked onto the little blue slime.

Jelly Boy locks eyes on the mother pig. He begins vibrating. Violently. Like an excited chihuahua on espresso.

The Sweets Sow’s nose wrinkles. Its rock-candy eyes narrow. It inhales deeply, before letting out a high-pitched scream, sounding like a jet engine in a blender.

Jelly Boy buzzes again. A challenge.

Jesus Christ, Jelly Boy!

The gigantic sow charges.

I snatch up Jelly Boy and hurl myself sideways as two tons of weaponized marshmallow come barreling toward me.

“Ah, shit!” Clyde yells as he throws himself in the opposite direction.

Which leaves Veronica. Dead center in the Sweets Sow’s path.

Pixels of light spark and scatter near her outstretched hand as something massive materializes in her grip—a Warhammer. Iron-headed, thick-hafted, absolutely monstrous.

She doesn’t run. She doesn’t dodge. She swings.

CRACK!

The hammer collides with the pig’s sugar-coated skull and the impact is biblical. The behemoth stops mid-charge, its rock-candy eyes vibrating in their sockets. Veronica gets launched like a ragdoll by the collision.

She hits the ground hard, rolling, tumbling, finally skidding to a stop.

The Sweets Sow shakes its head, dazed.

Okay. Now’s my chance.

I scramble to my feet, Jelly Boy clutched to my chest.

“You okay?” I ask.

Jelly Boy vibrates. Twice. Good enough.

I drop him and whip my wand out of my Inventory. The moment it touches my palm, I cast Wizard’s Hand.

Two glowing fists manifest in the air, pulsing with strength-enhanced power.

“Get it,” I command.

The spectral hands lunge and start beating the absolute hell out of the sugar-fiend swine.

Or, well. They try.

The hits land. But the pig’s body is soft, pliant, sticky. The impact sinks in, like punching a memory foam mattress.

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The pig barely reacts.

Okay. Bad start, I think. Oddly, I start to feel fatigue soak into my forearms and biceps, even into my shoulders. Was this the result of my Spell drawing on my Strength stat?

From the corner of my eye, Veronica groans. She’s back on her feet, wobbly, but standing.

Clyde, meanwhile, is already facing the beast.

There’s a flash of light in his hand. A weapon appears and, to my surprise, it’s a fucking gun! A flintlock pistol. Old-world style, ornate as hell.

He raises it, slow, steady. A small green crosshair flickers over his left eye. He fires.

Crack! The gunfire splits the air.

The shot slams into the pig’s left shoulder.

The Sweets Sow squeals, the bullet digging into its marshmallowy flesh. It charges Clyde, stopping short. It rears up, massive hooves rising, casting a shadow over Clyde—and slams down.

The ground shakes. Wet paste sprays outward, splattering everything.

A glob of it lands on my forearm. Almost instantly, I’m filled with agony. It burns. Like boiling sugar, the paste-like substance pops and sizzles. I think of a marshmallow’s insides after it comes off the campfire, gooey but will burn the shit out of your mouth if you don’t wait a second.

My health bar takes a hit. I shake the stuff off my forearm as fast as I can.

“HEY, FATASS!” Veronica, from the side, warhammer at the ready, charging.

The pig’s head snaps toward her.

Veronica grins. Another flash of light, and a metallic breastplate forms around her.

The Sweets Sow snorts so hard a sticky bubble of molten sugar inflates from its nostrils before popping with a hiss. Its candy-coated hooves gouge into the dirt as it huffs, snorting steam, and I see the muscles in its syrupy bulk tense.

Oh, hell no.

It’s about to do that damn splash attack again.

Veronica sees it too.

She grins. Not a nice grin. A ‘time to ruin your whole day’ kind of grin.

She bolts forward, her warhammer flaring red, like it’s been dipped in the molten heart of a forge.

The Sweets Sow rears.

Veronica slides beneath it. She swings.

Wham!

The hammer collides with the pig’s gut, sending the truck-sized monstrosity airborne. Like, actually airborne. It’s flipping up, ass over snout, limbs flailing, squealing like a car alarm on fire.

Veronica twists, rearing back—and swings again.

Crack!

The second impact lands, right into its marshmallow underbelly. It screams in pain. Its piglet looks up from its meal, turning its head to the side in confusion, or concern.

The shockwave sends ripples through its gelatinous hide as it slams down.

Molten marshmallow explodes outward.

Veronica doesn’t have time to move. The splash of sticky, searing goo splatters her entire front side. She screams, falling to the ground.

Shit shit shit!

I run to her as quickly as I can, arms pumping.

She’s on the ground, covered in searing sugar, skin blistering, jaw clenched so hard I can hear her teeth grinding.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I stammer.

I yank a health potion from my Inventory.

“Drink.” I say. I uncork the bottle and place it to her lips. She lifts her head, pushing her lips against the opening of the bottle. She downs it in one go, coughing, wheezing.

Already, the burns start to fade. High health stat, I imagine, and its probably back into the green now. Built-in regen. Thank goodness for HP!

From across the clearing, Clyde yells between gunshots as he attempts to fend off the Sweets Sow.

“Its belly!” BANG! “That’s the weak spot!” BANG! “Juggle it one more time! Then give it everything you’ve fucking got!”

I summon both spectral hands to my side. They had been floating there limply, as though they were disappointed at how ineffective their punches had been and had placed themselves into a timeout.

They hover near my shoulders, knuckles cracking, twitching with power.

Veronica is already gritting her teeth, pushing herself up.

She reaches for her hammer.

I look at her.

“Can you do that again?”

She spits blood phlegm onto the forest floor, grabs her weapon, and grins like a psychopath.

“Yeah.” Spits again. “Thirty-second cooldown.”

Alright. Time to go full wizard mode.

With a mental command, I summon my gear.

My pointy wizard’s hat pops onto my head.

My cape flares into existence, rippling behind me like a banner of arcane authority.

But this time? No wand.

I flex my fingers, feeling the power thrumming just beneath my skin. Both hands free. Ready. It’s time to put my Strength score to full use.

Veronica is back on her feet, already moving.

She yells, loud and guttural. “Come on, you fat slab of diabetes!”

The Sweets Sow freezes mid-charge at Clyde.

Its rock-candy eyes narrow. It shifts its weight, turning away from Clyde and towards us. It charges. Straight for Veronica.

I move into the path of the Sweets Sow, planting my feet.

I command my Wizard’s Hands into position and brace myself, expecting another one of its molten sugar splash attacks—

But nope. The Sow lowers its head.

Shit.

It’s going for a full-body slam.

My Wizard’s Hands shoot forward, gripping its snout.

The pig slams headfirst into me like a goddamn runaway truck. My body rocks, bones groaning. A notification pings in my HUD.

Ability Triggered: Hold Your Ground.

In the bottom corner of my interface a third of my health bar is instantly deleted. I grit my teeth.

“NOW!” I roar.

Veronica’s warhammer ignites, blazing with searing red energy.

She swings.

Wham!

The Sweets Sow lifts into the air again, twisting, flipping—its exposed underbelly gleaming like a candy-coated target.

Perfect.

I trigger my cape.

A third Wizard’s Hand bursts into existence in a cloud of ethereal mist.

Three spectral fists hover at my side. I command all three to attack.

And I join them.

A storm of jabs, punches, and piston-fast blows pummel the Sow’s marshmallow gut.

Five fists.

A symphony of destruction.

The Sweets Sow thrashes, squealing like an overworked espresso machine. Its body vibrates, every impact sending shockwaves rippling through its sticky flesh. I get in two final punches, before the beast comes back down to earth. Its feet plant onto the ground. The fucking thing is still standing, after I gave it everything I had. What the literal fuck!

Then, a blur of pink slams into its side. The Sweets Sow is T-boned at full speed.

By fucking Jelly Boy.

The little blue slime is riding the Bubblegum Piglet.

Yup—I’m not hallucinating.

Jelly Boy. On his mighty, pink candy steed.

The Sweets Sow flips, lands hard on its side, sending up a final mushroom cloud of sugar dust.

Silence.

Ding!

You have defeated Sweets Sow, Level 10.

You have received partial credit for the defeat of Sweets Sow.

Partial credit awarded to . . . Clyde Richmond.

Partial credit awarded to . . . Veronica Sampietro.

Partial credit awarded to . . . Jelly Boy, Slime.

Level 6 increased to Level 7!

I blink.

I squint at the triumphant, vibrating slime, still mounted atop his glorious pig steed.

He wiggles proudly.

The little bastard got credit for the kill.

That’s twice now that he’s received partial credit for a monster kill.

Wait.

Can… can Jelly Boy level up?

I’ll deal with that later. For now, I take a breath, surveying the wreckage.

Clyde is reloading his flintlock.

Veronica is shaking off molten marshmallow gunk off of her hammer.

The air smells like burnt sugar and victory.

I step forward, plucking Jelly Boy off his pig mount.

He vibrates in protest before squish—into the backpack he goes.

I look at the two of them.

“So…” I start, shifting my weight. “Are you going to report me?”

Clyde and Veronica exchange a glance.

A long, silent moment.

Then—

Veronica grins.

“No,” she says.

She slings her Warhammer over her shoulder and smirks.

“Actually, I think we both want in on this leveling scheme you’re running.”

I blink.

Then I laugh.

“Holy shit. Uh, okay…”

This is an interesting development.