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ABH - CH 33 - Milling About
🕑 Added 2025-05-23 16:11:30 +0000 UTCA/N: HAHAHHAHAHA How do we like the adventure so far? I'm putting up CH 24.5 on RR now, so if you go and leave a comment I'll love you 5ever!!!
Chapter Thirty-Three
Milling About
Rise of Winter, Week 5, Day 4
The goblin made it another three hits.
Freddie watched as its body dissolved into the miasma, her eyes heated. Around her, there were bags and barrels and boxes of the Listrain wheat. So much, Freddie wondered if it was even worth it to take.
What? You’d leave the spoils of war behind? Take it all, she scolded herself. At the very least, Grandfather will praise me. And Tiltham might even smile.
Heaving a put-upon sigh, Freddie snatched the Mana Pearls off the ground and went to get her bag. Retrieving the satchel from behind the pillar, she went back to the other room.
Looking around, there were no other hallways, no doors, no exits aside from the entrance. Freddie nodded.
“Dead end. I’ll have to go back.”
She began unpacking her satchel, carefully arranging her potions. Gentle in a way she so rarely was—not that she had a choice. She needed to be able to survive this blasted dungeon and the potions, rations, and bedroll in her bag were all she had to do so. Well, and now loads of wheat.
“It’s not even milled, do I have to crush it and mix it with water?” Freddie mused. “Is that how bread is made? Can I make bread in this stupid hole in the ground?”
Freddie, who had not touched an oven in this life, and Kalina of elsewhere, whose winnings were usually spent on takeout, couldn’t say for sure.
She decided to try.
“I’ve got wheat to make flour, water to add to it, and fire to cook it. What could go wrong?” Freddie grumbled.
Looking around, Freddie went to the center of the room—it looked cleanest. Then, she summoned a fire, as intense as she could make it, and scoured the floor.
Fire beats germ, right? She huffed a laugh to herself as she blasted the stone with white hot flames. Line by line, she watched embers light aflame and disappear. Still, she went hotter. Instead of cleansing the stone like she’d hoped, she left pitch black scorch marks.
“Oh. That’ll taste like garbage.” Freddie frowned dramatically before sighing. “Fine, Quick Clean potion it is. But, I’m not wasting more than a drop on this hairbrained idea.”
Grabbing the vial, with its lavender swirls, Freddie carefully let a single droplet fall onto the stone before swiping the ground with her palm. The grime and soot lifted easily, disappearing into the alchemical concoction she’d poured onto the stone.
Picking up a handful of wheat berries, Freddie looked around for a good stone to crush it with, she was forced to acknowledge that while the dungeon was dingy and a bit humid—it was mostly clean. Clear of large stones and clumps of dirt, it just looked like a usual storeroom. Which boded well for Freddie not getting food poisoning, but meant there was nothing to crush the wheat with.
My Strength is 57—is that enough to crush the wheat bare-handed?
It wouldn’t hurt to try. The Listrain wheat was Tier 1 Rare, but what did that mean for its resilience? Surely plants couldn’t actually be that strong?
Pressing her palm over a few of the wheat berries, Freddie let her weight settle over her palm. Then she began rolling her palm with as much force as she could muster.
It was several long minutes of failure.
Eventually, Freddie just summoned fire to evaporate the wheat under her palm.
“Stupid plant,” she grumbled. “Whatever, I’ll stick to jerky, I guess.”
What followed was Freddie angrily ripping into the dried meat while gathering up the bags, barrels, and boxes of wheat and shoving them into the bottom of her satchel. She wasn’t actually sure how much the bag could hold, but so far it hadn’t been a problem.
Repacking her potions, Freddie swallowed the last of her breakfast-lunch-maybe-dinner. She wasn’t entirely sure what time it was. There was no way to know how long she’d napped for earlier, or if the dungeon was even locked into the same time frame as Gargantua. Sometimes, they had a differential.
In the end, it didn’t really matter to Freddie. She wasn’t tired, nor did she feel the need to recover. Her anger at the goblins had abated somewhat, but it was an easy thing to call back.
Freddie, for better or worse, was a being of anger.
It had faded somewhat over the past months, with Tiltham and her family sanding her harder edges. But Freddie remembered the events of elsewhere clearly, the pain and rage she’d always had. And now, with Scylla, she had a new anger that burned hot in her stomach.
An anger that was constantly threatening to boil over. An anger that was fueled with every hit or kick Freddie took.
Freddie, to her credit, didn’t actually mind being hit. It was proof she was alive, that she could feel pain. That she was here—and suffering. Plus, it came with being a close range fighter. If Freddie had opted for a distance attack, her flames would have abided by that as well. But that was lame. Freddie wanted to feel her hits land, wanted to see—up close and personal—what she was doing to her opponent.
Maybe that made her a sadist, but Freddie was okay with that.
Pulling on her jacket, her outfit was back to looking pristine. She didn’t bother buttoning it back up, it didn’t matter anyway. Even the wrinkles that had manifested were no more, so she could simply let the goblins shred the fabric. It barely provided any protection anyway—and if the self-repair enchantment ever ran out, she had six more sets.
It was frustrating that she hadn’t received a Skill for fighting, and Freddie was bitter about it as she stalked back through the long hallway she’d come through to get to the storeroom. She passed by the room with the pillars, and the open area she’d taken out five goblins, then the two alcoves where the Stone Goblins had been standing sentry. Finally she found herself in the area of magical darkness—now dimly lit like the rest of the dungeon. Stepping back to where the second Vanda Vine had been, Freddie peered down into the pit. It was still empty.
The monsters must not regenerate. Good. It means I only have to defeat them all once before I can move on to the second floor.
Looking up from the pit, Freddie had two choices. The first was that she could [Fire Step] over the pit and cross the entry chamber to light up the third Vanda Vine across from her, and the second was that she could go down the hall she’d ignored before.
Annoyed at the thought of being unable to hit the Vanda Vine, Freddie opted to go down the hall.
It was wide, at least ten feet, and there were dull, flickering sconces on the walls. Ahead, Freddie could hear the shuffling of feet and the grunts of goblins. They weren’t speaking, not really. Instead, Freddie could make out the sound of scraping stone. It was rhythmic, the way the goblins were dragging the stone across stone.
Peering around the corner, Freddie spotted five goblins, four Red Goblins in a row by a lengthy table messing with some kind of tools and a single Purple Goblin, it’s bow along its back as it sat on a stool facing the other four. It had a dagger in its hands that it was twirling menacingly.
Freddie scrunched her nose as she took in the scene. It was akin to a supervisor surveying their workers. Though, for her, it was the perfect set up. She could take out the Purple Goblin first.
Wait, she thought suddenly, can I lure it away? Fight it one on one?
Humming quietly to herself, Freddie debated the merits of it. It would allow her to figure out how many hits the goblin could take, but if it didn’t work then all five goblins would notice her.
In the end, it was smarter to simply surprise attack the Purple Goblin.
Thus, Freddie pulled out one of the necklaces she’d grabbed from the box with the pillows and slid it out from where she was ducked behind the corner. The metal clanged lightly, and only the Purple Goblin turned and noticed the shine of the gemstone.
Freddie, still gripping the chain, shook it.
The goblin looked at the four workers before standing and heading to the necklace. Slowly, Freddie stepped back. Then, she willed [Bright as a Flickering Flame] to begin.
Freddie could feel the air around her grow soothingly warm in the humidity, the magma in her veins dispersing into it. She hadn’t done anything to ‘illicit a negative reaction’ so the Skill should continue to be calming. It depended on how Dungeon Commands worked.
That was the worst part of dungeons, really, in Freddie’s opinion. Whether the monsters were mana constructs or of the world, they were bound to follow the Dungeon Commands. It was similar to the banned mind magics of Maeve, stripping away even a monster’s base instincts. Freddie would rather die than be forced to follow a single string of commands for the entirety of her existence.
See, Mr. Goblin? Freddie thought, dragging the necklace further into the hall, I’m doing you a favor.
The Purple Goblin got to the corner, looking back at the four others for only a moment, before rounding the turn and coming face to face with Freddie.
The skin around the goblin’s eyes wrinkled, and it reached for its bow at its back, but Freddie stood up and dangled the necklace in front of it. Slowly, she stepped backward—and the goblin followed. But not before releasing a guttural screech calling for the other goblins.
Groaning, Freddie threw the necklace behind her, letting [Bright as a Flickering Flame] break as she lunged forward for the Purple Goblin.
As always, they were the same height. It was exceedingly convenient for Freddie, who would otherwise be at a disadvantage due to her height. It was also likely convenient for the goblins, who usually had to punch upwards but now could simply attack.
The four Red Goblins were responding with screeches of their own and shuffling to grab what sounded like metal hitting stone. Freddie didn’t give the Purple Goblin any more time to grab its bow—the purple and yellow monsters were the only ones who had actually injured her, and Freddie had no intention of being forced to use [Regenerate] before she was ready.
Instead, she reached over the monster’s shoulder and ripped the bow out, pulling it down over her knee and snapping the wood. It bent slightly before fully breaking. Freddie had expected another guttural scream, but instead the goblin looked almost satisfied. Deciding she didn’t like that, Freddie pulled back to look over the goblin.
That, as it turned out, was a mistake.
Because the Purple Goblin gripped an arrow from its quiver and held it up angling it for Freddie. The arrow began to glow in a sickly green light and Freddie didn’t wait to see what would happen—instead opting to rush the goblin and grip the arrow. As she did so, the metal tip blasted through her palm.
“AGH!” She screamed, the pain burning through her mind.
Wrapping her good hand around the wooden arrow shaft, Freddie snapped it, pulling out the arrow from her hand. Crimson and gold began pouring out of her palm, and the edges of Freddie’s vision went red.
Maybe, were she unused to pain, her vision would have gone black. She would have been sick at the sight. She would have stopped her plans of attack. But Freddie knew it was now or never.
It was kill or be killed.
And, as always, Freddie chose to persevere. She chose to overcome. She chose to be more.
Freddie chose to kill.
She didn’t activate [Regenerate], not then. So filled with rage was she that Freddie instead cast [Imbue Flame] and [Fire Conjuration+Manipulation], encasing her fists in crimson flames.
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