Chapter 5: The Incredible Gruntness of Being
Eventually talking with Francis gave the knights a headache and they had to stop. They weren't sure what else to do with him, so they stuck Francis in a tent with a barrel of beer, some roasted lamb, and a big stack of cured tobacco leaves. Miller was there to keep Francis company and prevent any unapproved “walks”.
“So, break it down for me, fuzzy puppet style.” Francis told Miller as he chewed through a leathery tobacco leaf like a nicotine addicted caterpillar. “I’m a champion. What does that mean?”
Miller said he was forty years old but he looked closer to a hard fifty. The gray beard finished his beer and launched into a long explanation that Francis mostly tuned out. There were gods and an all-powerful system that did something or other for some reason. Nobody knew what it was or why. (But the educated people who didn't know what or why were called Scholars.)
Francis swallowed his chew and washed it down with a beer. “Ok, fuzzy puppet style is a no go. Now, tell me in Grunt.”
“Some grunts get promoted to Champions. God Generals get stuff when Champions kill monsters. God Generals make grunts fight. Grunts get stronger fighting and training. It is what it is, what are you gonna do?” Miller shrugged.
This all made sense to Francis. It wasn't any different than things back home. A moment of sadness sucker punched Francis as he thought about his fellow grunts. Murder Cube had told him it wasn't possible to go home yet. But if it found a way to send him back, it would.
Murder Cube didn't care about the other gods or their games. Murder Cube was here for the violence. It told Francis to have fun, kill lots of things, collect any cool weapons he found, and find a way home if he could. Murder Cube was very supportive of its champion.
Francis went over his immediate objectives. They were the same as any other deployment.
Acquire local knowledge.
Establish a base of operations.
Gather resources.
Make connections with local tribal leaders.
Pet any cool animals.
Destroy anyone or anything the brass didn't like.
Find fun ways to kill time.
Wait to be sent home.
There was just one snag. Murder Cube didn't have any enemies that needed killing or a list of targets to destroy. That meant there was no brass to tell him what to do. No other Marines for him to protect. He was his own boss. No, he was something much worse.
“That bastard System made me a filthy civilian!” Francis lamented. “Fucker didn't even give me my VA benefits or my pension.”
“What now?” Miller stopped stuffing his face with grilled lamb.
“I’ve been with the corps since I was seventeen. I don't know what I'm gonna do now I'm out. I can't kill anything if I'm not on duty, the brass was very clear about that. They said they'd take away all my stickers and send me to work at Walmart.”
Francis had an unpleasant realization. “Oh no, that big green guy… am I gonna go to jail?”
Horrible thoughts multiplied in Francis’ mind. He wasn't crying. Crying wasn't allowed in the Marines except on very specific occasions, and he wasn't watching the end of Terminator 2 or that one episode of Futurama with the dog. But he sure was close to bursting into tears.
The graybeard patted Francis on the shoulder. He knew how to handle this. Separation was always tough. “No, that was fine. What if I told you there was a way to have a ton of fun, make new friends, see the world, never be held accountable, and kill as many monsters as you wanted?”
Francis remembered getting a similar speech his junior year of high school. That's how he ended up joining the Marines. It worked out pretty good for him the last time, why not give it a shot?
“Is it expensive?” He asked.
“No, they pay you.” Miller pulled out a piece of paper he’d been saving for later. The guild was handing them out like crazy with all the monsters on the loose (and free toilet paper was hard to come by).
There was a drawing of a man with a sword standing next to a mountain of gold and smiling. In the background lay a vanquished dragon and on his arm was a beautiful woman.
“Have you ever considered becoming an adventurer?” Miller asked.
***
When Miller took a nap or possibly passed out from drinking, Francis went for a “walk”. He strategically acquired a wizard’s robes and staff by putting the unsuspecting mage into a sleeper hold.
He liked how they kept his undercarriage nice and breezy, even if they were a bit tight. He made his way towards the castle. The flier said the Adventure Guild had a building in the town below.
After about an hour the robes magically resized to fit Francis and he got an alert from System that made his eye twitch.
You have successfully bonded with Robes of Resilience! +1 to Deflect
You have successfully bonded with Hedge Wizard’s Staff! +1 to Arcane
Magical knowledge flooded into Francis’ brain as he crossed a threshold never meant to be exceeded by mortals (and definitely not by grunts). With the +1 from the staff he now had an incredible 11 in Arcane. Worse yet, his 30 in both Spiritual and Intellectual magnified the effect.
He was attuned to the universe, smart enough to understand what was going on, and powerless to stop it. His whole body crackled with energy. Francis started getting nervous.
This world was made of magic. Francis was part of the world. That meant Francis was made of magic too. He and the world were the same. They were one. Everything was one.
Sparks shot from Francis' bare skin and burned the ground beneath him as his consciousness continued to expand. Beyond the world there was a universe. A whole universe was made of magic, just like him. For a brief second, Francis became one with everything, and he hated it.
The Marine also could feel someone watching him. He looked up and saw the dead face of Hades stretched across the sky. The pale lord of the underworld was looking down and laughing at him.
Francis thrust the staff at Hades. “Get fucked, goth boy!” He screamed as he released the torrent of magic welling up within him. A white beam of pure energy shot out of the staff and pierced the heavens.
Hades only had a second to look surprised before he felt the raw unfiltered rage of a grunt who had just been forced to experience oneness with the universe.
System was going to need to do some more math.