NOVEL NEXT Chapter 91: How do you throw a rock at someone reverently?
Ilya had finished eating her baguette when she finally arrived at the valley. The first thing she asked was, "Why is there a valley within the Synod campus?"
There wasn't an answer.
Next to Tommaso, Dubbie tugged on her sleeve and leaned in with a whisper, eyes wide. "Is that her?"
Tommaso glanced between them. "She might look like an Ice Queen, but she's actually very friendly. Come say hi!"
I mean, he's not exactly wrong, Fabrisse thought. But I wouldn't call her 'friendly'. She's just odd.
Still, with some light nudging, Dubbie eventually shuffled forward toward Ilya.
"Hi," she said, barely above a whisper.
"Hello."
They stared at each other and said nothing else for a good three seconds.
Dubbie inhaled sharply like she was preparing to dive into deep water. "So . . . do you, um . . . like bread?"
There was another long pause.
Ilya blinked. "As a concept, yes."
Tommaso cleared his throat. "So . . . this valley, huh? Whatever cool thing can we do here?"
"We need to find my other rock first," Fabrisse said.
Tommaso and Dubbie sighed.
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[Mastery Training: Stupenstone Fling (Rank II)—Progress to Rank III: 100%] [SYSTEM NOTICE: Stupenstone Fling is now Rank III.] [Bonus Granted: + 1 Earth Thaumaturgy Mastery] |
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[Training Completed: + 14 EXP] [Progress to Level 6: 1527/2750] |
Tommaso had spent his evening hovering at a reasonable height and speed so Fabrisse could fling rocks at him (he'd found the missing Stupenstone, by the way), and it'd done him wonders. His friend had a good understanding of arcforms, and an even better understanding of how to yell helpful things like 'Too low!' and 'Ow, that one actually hit!' without ever changing altitude.
Fabrisse, for his part, had learned two things.
One: Tommaso had the aerodynamics of a gliding kite, which made him the perfect airborne target.
Two: He could actually try to change the arc mid-way, at least in theory. He got his Stupenstone to wobble a little during flight, but that just made the velocity dipped. He blamed his abysmal RES.
He opened [Skills] to check out his Rank III Stupenstone Fling.
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[Spell Upgraded: Stupenstone Fling (Rank III)]
</div> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: consolas, terminal, monaco"><strong>Recommended Emotions:</strong></span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: consolas, terminal, monaco"><em><span style="font-weight: 400">Joy </span></em><span style="font-weight: 400">(sky-blue smolder, strong integrity tracking)</span><span style="font-weight: 400"> </span></span></p> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: consolas, terminal, monaco"><em><span style="font-weight: 400">Rage</span></em><span style="font-weight: 400"> (fractured red glow, high kinetic burst)</span></span></p><span class="cjE2M2VkYTljMTRhYTQ0ODU5YTYxZTUxZDg2ZGRkYzRm"> If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it. </span> <p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: consolas, terminal, monaco"><em><span style="font-weight: 400">Reverence</span></em><span style="font-weight: 400"> (golden, awkwardly majestic)</span></span></p> </td> </tr> </tbody> </table> How do you throw a rock at someone reverently? There was a bigger problem. Embarrassment was not a recommended emotion, and that was the only emotion he could reliably conjure. There was more detail below, so he glanced down.
Now, Fabrisse was very much not a math man. Start throwing percentages and conditional scaling into the mix and his brain began to fold in on itself like badly summoned parchment. Still. He knew this much: More stats = more better. And if RES kept showing up like this—boosting range, base force, emotional clarity, and now even letting him steer the damn rock mid-air—then yeah. RES was clearly the stat to chase. "Yo. You still giving me the silent treatment?" The glyph flickered away. Tommaso was suddenly beside him, arms crossed, looking far too casual for someone who had clearly just appeared from somewhere he wasn't before. His hair, once a subdued cascade half-tied and half-falling over one shoulder, had taken on a bolder hue in the light—burnished now with streaks of copper and ember-red, catching the sun like slow-burning flame. "No. I'm just . . . thinking." "You're no longer mad, right?" He asked. "I've never been mad." "Can never be too sure with you." He shrugged. Now that was the line that would make Fabrisse mad, but he decided to let it slide for now. Meanwhile, a few meters off, Dubbie and Ilya sat side by side on a log someone had rolled over for seating. Dubbie shifted uncomfortably every few seconds, picking at the frayed seam of her sleeve. She wasn't used to long silences unless they were her silences, and this one didn't feel like hers at all. The silence between them was so dense it might've qualified as a minor warding field. "So, we cool?" Tommaso extended a hand. But not just any hand—a ridiculous, overly formal handshake pose, pinky out, palm tilted like a duchess might offer it for a glove-slap challenge. Fabrisse stared at the hand. "You're impossible," he muttered, but took it anyway. The grip was brief and firm, then immediately ruined by Tommaso yanking him forward slightly and smacking a second hand on top like they were sealing a shady back-alley potion deal. "Cool," Tommaso said with a grin, letting go. "So. You joining the Arc Pebbles game tomorrow? I heard from Linny." "Yeah. It's good for my personal progress." Tommaso shrugged. "You might do better than you think. Your throw power isn't the quickest, but Arc Pebbles is about landing beautiful arcs in quick successions. You have rather quick hands, so it might work to your advantage." My recharge time might have something to say about that . . . When he didn't hear a response, Tommaso continued. "Your arcs look good, but you'll have problems with longer shots and actually hitting the target. You'd wanna make sure to focus on those tomorrow." Speaking of which . . . He pulled up his profile. The same attribute distribution showed up.
He stared at his RES for a brief moment, then put all his attribute points into it. |