I Am A Table [LitRPG Isekai Progression Fantasy]

The party descended the spiral stairs, the air growing damper and the glowcrystals giving off a mossy scent that Blorbo immediately blamed on Rob's boots.

Marin led, and everyone followed close behind. The lower they descended, the less stony and more parchmenty were the walls. Stacked sheets layered into the mortar like papier-mâché nightmares. Scribbling sounds emerged from afar.

This has to be the most BORING tower run in existence. What are our adversaries? Books and quills?

With zero regard for pacing or basic narrative decency, the System flared.

[SIDEQUEST RECEIVED: Consume a Sentient Quill]

Objective: Locate and consume (yes, consume) one sentient quill.
Reward:
— +5 HP
— +5 CP (Cabbage Points)
— Rare Skill Unlocked: Arcane Knowledge

Warning: Side effects may include inkstain nightmares and a persistent craving for parchment.

Failure: None

Prerequisite: Spell 'Consume' gained

Accept: YES/NO

ARCANE WHAT? THERE'S A SKILL CALLED ARCANE KNOWLEDGE?!

Was he about to become a legendary scholar? Was this the part where he leveled up and unlocked ancient spells from forgotten languages and began levitating just from sheer wisdom?

Hold up… Something's not right here… Where's the description of the spell?

Blorbo mentally accepted the quest anyway. There's literally no harm accepting it. Worst can happen is I get a skill that does nothing.

The moment Blorbo accepted the quest, the tower reacted like a hornet's nest poked by narrative progression.

From a cracked archway ahead, a whoosh of wind burst forth, and with it, an academic scream.

Hundreds—no, thousands—of sentient stationery erupted into the corridor like angry bees from a forgotten filing cabinet. Quills flapped like deranged birds of prey. Fountain pens streaked past with glittering trails of aggressive calligraphy. Mechanical pencils clicked with every rotation. Erasers tumbled through the air. A rogue highlighter drew neon zigzags while shrieking in fluorescent rage.

"QUILLS! TAKE COVER!" Marin yelled, flinging his sword and detonating an eraser randomly as it touched him.

"Ridiculous," Anders whispered, swatting away a dual-wielding pair of red pens. "It's a peer review swarm."

"WHY ARE THEY SCREAMING?" Lena shouted, smacking three quills out of the air with a rolled-up textbook she'd found somewhere.

Before anyone could answer, a flock of erasers launched toward them. White bricks of rubber vengeance, tails trailing pink dust, screaming high-pitched squeak frequencies that bypassed the brain and went straight to dental nerves.

SHUT THEM UP! OH, THE AGONY!

Rob dove behind Marin's shield bubble as an oversized correction tape spool dive-bombed them like a zealous cleric of grammar.

Lena had no time.

A mechanical pencil with a telescoping bayonet swerved toward her head.

In desperation, she raised the only object she had left.

Not me! Please, not me!

Tabby.

The cat purred.

Time slowed.

Tabby twisted in midair and latched onto the pencil like a divine predator. Its claws sliced the pencil in half. The pencil detonated in the air with a BOOM!

What?! How did that even happen?!

Then Tabby hit the floor, tail flicking, and proceeded to eradicate a dozen pens.

Ink exploded. Screaming fountain nibs ricocheted off the walls. A luxury-brand calligraphy set tried to retreat—but Tabby pounced, yowled, and reduced it to calligraphic confetti.

But Blorbo paid no attention.

He had entered what could only be described as "Predatory Academic Mode."

Objective: Consume a Sentient Quill.

Just one. That's all he needed. In a storm of hyperliterate objects, surely one quill would land—

A glue stick hit him in the chest and detonated in a puff of craft-scented smoke.

[-18 HP]

EIGHTEEN?! How strong was that glue stick? I have Retribution Counter on too!

A single majestic quill slowly drifted toward him.

It was beautiful. Regal. Destined.

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It landed gently on his chest.

He inhaled.

It is time to consume.

[Skill Activated: Consu—]

Anders fired a spell and evaporated the quill.

NO! YOU FESTERING TOAD! I WAS SO CLOSE! YOU UNWASHED THESIS DRAFT OF A MAN! I HOPE YOUR PARENTS NAME A SECOND CHILD AFTER YOU AND LOVE THEM MORE!

Another opportunity soon presented itself.

Amid the academic hurricane, one noble quill had taken a liking to Blorbo's flattened, ink-drenched form. Perhaps it sensed his desperation. Perhaps it admired his tenacity. Perhaps it was just stupid.

It glided down gently, wings of parchment fluffing in the air, bypassed Lena, Tabby, and landed exactly on his surface.

This was it.

He slowly, mentally summoned the spell.

[Skill Activated: Consume—]

Marin stood four feet away, holding a rune-scorched dictionary in one hand and raised his shield against an army of erasers.

He stared at him.

Not suspicious. Not angry. Just... staring.

Why are you staring? Look somewhere else! I can't make a quill suspiciously disappear when someone else is looking!

The quill hopped off his surface.

Then Marin looked away.

NOOOOO! WHY IS THIS KEEP HAPPENING TO ME! I HOPE YOUR CHAIR IS FOREVER SLIGHTLY DAMP! I HOPE YOU'RE IMPRISONED IN A TINY CELL FOREVER AND YOUR WARDEN IS GRIESA!

thwump.

Something small, soft, and vaguely papery bounced off his corner and landed on his surface.

Huh.

The object was... quill-shaped. Sort of. It was feathery. It had a nib-like end. Maybe the gods had finally decided to stop mocking him and give him a break?

He didn't risk looking too closely. Didn't want to spook it. His eyes twitched sideways. His breath slowed.

[Skill Activated: Consume]

There was a strange whoomp, like a magical toilet flushing sideways.

The object disintegrated into sparkles and a faint smell of glue and regret.

Blorbo waited.

The System stayed silent.

No ping. No fanfare. No "Quest Complete" banner. Just… quiet.

Then:

[You have consumed: Decorative Party Invitation – Enchanted Edition]
Effect: None.
Taste: Confetti.
You feel slightly festive. Can randomly explode.

CAN WHAT?! I NEED TO UN-CONSUME THIS RIGHT NOW. BUT I DON'T KNOW HOW TO!

[Quest Incomplete: Sentient Quill Not Yet Consumed]

Progress: 0/1

Blorbo slowly buried his non-existent face in his non-existent hands.