Paragon of Weaponmasters

"Hey Peter." I get his attention. "Have you ever heard the word 'yeet'?"

"No, what does it mean?" he asks.

"You know, it's one of those words that just… doesn't have a meaning, it's a feeling, it's a vibe, it's…" I begin waxing.

"It's a meme from the late 2010's, originating from a short-form video of a young women yelling 'This bitch empty, yeet!' as she throws an empty soda can into a crowded highschool hallway." he reads from a google search.

"Spoilsport." I pout.

"Why'd you bring it up, anyways?" he questions as we reach the top step, the sun above the city shining on our faces.

"Watch this." I draw Thozur, wind back, and throw them as hard as I can into the air. "Yeet!"

"Okay…" He arches an eyebrow.

"Tell me, Peter. What's the maximum range on Exchange?" I ask, hands behind my back.

"Uhh…" he stammers. "There isn't one?"

I smile at him as I cast the spell.

Suddenly, I'm a mile high. I'm no scientist, but I think Thozur's momentum transferred to me when we traded places. Would that be science, or magic? Magic science? Either way, I'm going up. I pass through clouds, soaking me in dreadfully cold water. After a few more moments, it starts to become hard to breathe.

Just as I feel gravity start to lose its grip on me, my movement stops. I look up, and see… a box. The bright blue sky is still there, full of clouds. With corners. When I'm fully unsettled by the sight, gravity mercifully comes back for me and I start falling. I summon Thozur to me, and yelp in surprise when Peter's hand appears under mine.

"Were you touching my hammer?" I have to scream over the wind.

"Yes! I'm sorry! Please get me down!" he screams back.

"What…" i begin

Earl says: What direction is trash heap?

He points in response.

I retrieve Apaki, and throw them in that direction. We Exchange, Peter and I fly through the air at terrifying speeds over treetops.

Peter says: How do you plan to stop???

Earl says: Trust me!

Peter says: I can trust you and know the plan at the same time!

I spot the mountain of garbage on the horizon. Summoning and throwing Apaki again, We watch as they pierce deep into a pile of soiled linens.

Please float up and out before we exchange again.

Of course. Wouldn't want you to get covered in shit.

I wait a beat, then cast exchange. Peter and I land gently on top of the pile, instead of inside of it.

"Why haven't We been travelling like that this whole time?" I ask, with childlike excitement in my voice.

"I'm never doing that again!" Peter tells me, wide-eyed and wild-haired.

I can't help but laugh at him.

"Fine! The next time you go to bed or school, I'm yeeting around the world." I tell him.

We sit and take deep breaths for a few moments. I hear a whistling, but by the time I place it, it's already too late. Apaki falls from the sky and sinks straight into my thigh.

"FUCK!" I yell, using summon instead of yanking them free.

YOU PIECE OF SHIT, YOU DID THAT ON PURPOSE!

I just let gravity take over. I had no influence on my trajectory. I can feel their smarmy little smirk in my head.

Someday I'm going to hammer you into a different, better sword. One that isn't constantly trying to screw with me. Maybe I'll find a way to reforge you into Esquire, how about that?

You wouldn't dare.

Try me, bitch.

"Arguing with your sword in your head?" Peter asks.

"Yea, how'd you know?" I ask.

"You make faces while you're doing it. You looked really pissed." He tells me.

"Oh. I didn't know I did that." I say sheepishly.

"Whatever happened to the other one? The one I gave you?" He looks around me, trying to find it on my person.

"It's the strangest thing, I walked into a plant nursery with Earlgor, and the next thing you know, he has it." I tell him.

"Huh. That's weird." he says.

"Right?" I agree.

With our breath caught, we both stand unsteadily on the rotting garbage, and make our way down towards the work camp. The harsh ram-shackled Civilization-style shelters have been replaced by the brutally efficient gray stonework of humans.

"I think that style of building is called brutalist?" I question.

"I think I learned about that in history class. Not sure though." he tells me. We reach the bottom of the hill, and find humans pushing around helpless little raccoon people.

"Trading one ruthless master for another." I shake my head.

Preparing to earn first blood, I mentally queue up my spells. Instead of casting them, I watch as the closest thing to a mech a raccoon could throw together using random garbage lumbers into view.

"Please die, you sister-loving, pink-skinned, ass-faced, sons-of-bitches!" The racoon piloting it yells over the sound of his own machine. On one side of it, it has a catapult instead of an arm. Releasing the payload into the main tent, several humans are instantly crushed.

Peter and I jump into action, removing threats to the pilot attempting to cast spells or shoot arrows. They almost launch a ballista bolt from their other arm, but they realise we're not humans.

"Please help or get the fuck outta the way!" he tells us.

"That's what we're here for!" I let him know.

"Thank you!" he says in the most sarcastic tone i've ever heard.

"Who's that?" I ask Peter.

"No clue. They're not a player." He observes the goblin pilot.

Tribnet, the Polite Prince. Level ??

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

"New leader of the goblins?" I read his name.

"They don't have one since we killed the trash king, but stranger things have happened to you." He tells me.

"You mean us?" I ask.

"Sure." he responds.

"Please scream!" the prince asks nicely, as he deploys some kind of flamethrower from the ballista arm.

"I've gotta get me one of those." I check out the mech.

"No." Peter says definitely.

The area around the trash pile is a circle, so we head in the opposite direction from the prince. Much like the humans preising over the dwarves, these guys are total pushovers. I barely have to lift a mental finger as Thozur, Apaki, and Earthshatter obliterate them. Peter doesn't get a single hit in.

You have reached level 66!

Strength increased by 128%!

Agility increased by 128%!

Intelligence increased by 128%!

Peter has reached Level 66!

Oh neat. I open my talent tree, and invest one final point into Armory, instead of unlocking a fifth weapon slot, it allows me to gain stats from the third and fourth slots. Thanks for giving it back, I guess.

The next row of talents unlock, and reading them makes my heart stop.

Embody - Your weapons further utilize their sentience to wield themselves more effectively.

Titan's Grip - You may equip a two-handed weapon using a single slot.

Titan's Grip baby! I slam the ability in my mind, and rush to equip my big-ass sword.

ろうそくの灯りが

別のろうそくへと移る

春の夕暮れ.

I'm happy to see you too buddy.

Instead of my shield, a sword nearly twice my height rests on my back. I couldn't draw it properly if I tried, so I just summon them instead. It's like holding a flagpole.

I cackle in delight. Peter's eyes nearly fall from his head.

Reduce them to ribbons, my blade.

淡い月明かりの中

藤の香りが

遠くから漂ってくる.

The blade flies, cutting through opponents two or three at a time. After each cut, they slick the blood off of themselves in one sharp, smooth motion. It's really, really cool.

"That's the most Japanese thing I've ever seen in my life." Peter wipes a tear from his eye.

With four weapons ridding the world of evil, we meet the price more than halfway around the circle.

"Thanks for the help, I mean that." He says rolling over a human with his mech's many cart wheels.

"No problem. Have you been planning this revolt long?" i ask.

"My whole life. As a kit, I watched my father be killed by orcs. I grew up either their boot on my neck, and when they left, I actually thought we were free. The humans arrived and picked up where they left off. Thankfully, they're a lot more lax with security, so with a nice secluded cave and a box of scraps, I put this bad boy together." he flexes the artillery arms. "Thanks for asking."

"Why are you the polite prince?" Peter inquires.

"People used to tell me I needed to mind my manners. So I start or end every sentence very politely." The goblin chuckles.

"Except that one." Peter points out.

"Hey, pobody's nerfect." the prince laughs again. "There's still more pink-skins up the mountain if you'd be so kind as to join me in ridding them from our land."

"It would be my genuine pleasure." I bow.

"Hey, I'd bow back, but I ain't got no knees!" he falls over in his seat with laughter.

Peter says: we can't bring an npc into the dungeon with us

Earl says: Why not?

Peter says: It's just not possible. You can't invite them to the group, and they can't walk through the arch.

Earl says: Will you try for me?

Peter's expression changes to the trademark 'in a menu' look.

Tribnet has joined your group.

"What the fuck?" Peter asks.

"Hey, watch your fuckin' language." Tribnet says.

"Haha! It worked!" I cheer.

"I like it better when this game had rules." Peter groans.

"I like it this way." I grin.

"I ain't got no idea what you're talking about!" Tribet says.

"Let's find a healer and another dps and hope that they don't figure out that he's not a player." Peter says, ascending to the peak.

"They really recycled this dungeon?" I ask.

"We recycle everything here." Tribet tells me.

"Not what I meant." I say.

"Oh, sorry." he apologizes.

"Yeah, it's reversed but it's the same dungeon." Peter replies.

When we reach the top, several players are sitting around waiting for a group. Like always, Peter is our ambassador, so Tribet and I have a moment to chat before we head in.

"You uh…" he hesitates. "Ever wonder if you might be from somewhere else?"

I stare at him, unsure what to say.

"I think I might have been a human in another life, but not a human from here. You ever feel that way?" he presses me for an answer.

"We're being watched. Go here on Tuesday." I point to Masstaoir on my map.

"Okay." is all he says back. So much for our chat.

Thepickle joins your group.

Paintednails joins your group

Thepickle says: The Pickle has arrived!

Paintednails says: done this?

Peter says: yep.

"Alright Tribet, stay cool. Don't let them know you're not a player, ok?" Peter says. Tribet just arches an eyebrow. "Just follow Earl's lead."

Tribet nods at that, looking to me for guidance. Now I'm self conscious that I'm not acting normal enough.

We enter the dungeon, the loading screen shares similarities with the other version of this dungeon, but the trash is cleaned up and cleared away a little, and there's humans in the mix. My vision returns at the top of the mountain, our two groupies already running ahead. Sigh.

I send Thozur after them, and exchange when I see them enter combat with a group of humans. They go down pretty easy, especially after Tribet nails them with a few projectiles. I don't think the dungeon is balanced for a level question mark question mark faction leader to be here. We clear two more packs of humans as we jog down the hill, coming up on the first boss in a strange forest of twisted metal trees.

Poacher Bartholomew. Level 67

"Run, run, rodents!" the boss calls out, the loud bang of his musket ringing my ears. He retrieves a goblin from the ground, adding it to his already bulging sack of trophies. He's dressed from head to toe in goblin furs, a tail hanging from not just the back of his hat, but from his shoulders and belt too.

Tribet snarls, raising his ballista arm. I reach out to point it back down.

"Let us get a few hits in. if you one-shot him, they'll know something's up." I warn him.

"Fine." he grumbles.

"We have to line up with Earl in the back to absorb his powered shots." Peter mentions before we engage the fight.

"Good to know." I say, sending all four weapons in.

"Finally, the most dangerous game!" the boss cheers, lining up his sights on me. My four weapons and our three damage dealers almost kill him instantly anyways, but his health stops moving at fifty percent. Typical boss shenanigans.

"I've got you in my sights!" his gun starts to glow red-hot, aiming straight at me.

"That's not how guns work." I complain as my group lines up behind me.

"It's magic, what do you expect?" Peter asks.

The boss finally unloads on me, the musket ball flies straight through my chest and out my back, even after going through my entire group first. It's agonizing, but the relief of the boss's head exploding as Tribet takes a shot of his own soothes me somewhat. I won't be taking another hit like that.

"New hat." Peter says after he loots the boss. For a split second, he's wearing the same raccoon fur hat as the boss, but he glamours it away before our new friend sees.

The rest of the way down the mountain is much the same, a few groups of humans before the boss. Where the diarrhea monster was previously, an evil-looking wizard uses diabolical looking magic on goblins, who are cleaning the muck with insufficient tools or protective gear. One of the goblins is clearly struggling to move, waist-deep.

"Faster!" the wizard commands, a bolt of wispy purple energy travels to the goblin from his hands. They pick up the pace, but collapse inches from shore. They do not stand. "Useless."

Tribet and I share a look.

"Make it hurt." I tell him.

He grins a nasty set of canines.

My four weapons appear at the wizards knees, spinning as Torneado Edge takes effect.

"Defend me, mongrels!" He yells, using his ghastly purple magic to compel the goblins to attack us. His health bar is stubbornly at one hundred percent.

The other Peter and Thepickle move to meet them.

"No!" I yell. Peter stops in his tracks.

Earl says: Don't hurt the goblins!

Thepickle says: huh?

"Earl, we have to kill them to kill the wizard, it's how the bossfight works." Peter tries to let me down gently.

"No, I refuse." I say.

I command my weapons to float into the hands of the goblins, each of them from a connection with the spark of will I've found in everything around me. I seize control of them, turning their attention to the wizard.

"What the hell are you doing?" Peter asks.

"Revolution." I answer.

Revolution added to spellbook!

New Master removed from spellbook!

Revolution - Extremely long cooldown - Extremely short duration - Gain control over weapons that you do not have equipped.

Tier 2: Gain control over inanimate objects.

Tier 3: Gain control over animate objects.

I see the red glow from my eyes on the back of my hands as I compel the goblins. They attack, bypassing the protection granted to the wizard by their own lives, cutting him down in moments. They continue cutting… and cutting… until the wizard is indistinguishable from the dirt around him.

The group collectively stare at me, as I smile wide, bathed in red light.