Chapter 66
Chapter 66
Max found himself in a simple room that was similar to the ones he and the others met in back on his world. The only difference was the four large thrones, evenly spaced around a circular metal table.
“Please, take a seat,” Nerdok said as he motioned to one of the thrones. “Don’t worry, none of them will care, as they haven’t been here in decades.”
I knew it!
You never chose one.
Smiling, Max moved to the closest throne and studied it. This one was made of metals he had never seen. Seven different types of metal, all in long ropes, were twisted together, fused somehow and yet not, which created a seat that almost seemed to hover an inch above the stone floor.
“Do I have to?” Max asked as he ran a finger along the metal. “I have my own chair.”
“Suit yourself,” the older gnome said, his robe changing into a sparkling, skin-tight one-piece outfit.
Unable to help it, Max winced as Bob laughed.
“Does this outfit cause you pain?” Nerdok asked, motioning to himself, light bouncing off the sparkly sections, hundreds of moving dots of light along the walls. “Forgive me, I’m not allowed to wear it outside of this area, and old habits.” Wanting to breathe a sigh of relief, Max was thankful when Nerdok’s clothes returned to a simple robe.
“So, Max Hoste, what is it you need?” the gnome asked. “I was instructed to reward you from those I am a caretaker of. What kind of reward was left up to me within certain… limits .”
“You want the straight answer or the story on why I’m going to ask for something most will say no to?” Max asked.
A smile appeared on Nerdok’s lips. “A long story? That would be… enjoyable. I haven’t had a really good one since the last time you visited.”
Chuckling, Max summoned two chairs from his dimensional storage and one near the round table, motioning for Nerdok to take it.
“Drink?” Max asked. A pair of cups and a small green bottle of liquid were nestled in his hands.
“Max Hoste… I’ll have you know, I’m not that type of gnome… but if you keep this up, I could be,” Nerdok said, jumping up into the chair.
Unsure if he should laugh or stay quiet, Max just poured a drink for himself and a double for Nerdok.
“So…” Max said. “I need to kill a god.”
***
Nerdok took another sip of the alcohol Max was continually pouring into the tiny gnome’s glass.
Where he puts all this…
Four empty containers were on the table, and Nerdok was almost halfway through the fifth.
“That story was more enjoyable than you know,” the gnome said slowly. “A void god… I can understand your emissary’s hesitations about you fighting. Even though you feel you’re strong enough in some ways… I agree with, Jazzjak, was it?”
Max nodded.
“Jazzjak is right. The things you would need to even hope to damage one of them are beyond your current level.”
“So you’re saying I can’t do what I’m hoping for?”
Nerdok shook his head. “No, I’m not saying that, I’m saying it’s beyond your current level. What you are desiring is something that I believe only one of the four could make, and I’m not certain they would be willing to do so. Even for you.”
“And there’s no way for me to acquire the knowledge myself?” Max asked. “Or maybe point me in the right direction?”
“No,” Nerdok replied. “It’s more than just a skill or ingredients you need. The bomb you removed from our world was powerful, and it was a foolish venture even to try to create one where she did. No, the problem lies in where you’d have to create what you seek.”
“And where is that?” Max asked.
I swear, he reminds me of someone who knows the answer but wants to make me suffer to get to the point… and I can’t just grab him and shake him until he spits it out.
Bob’s laughter didn’t do much to lessen the frustration Max felt.
“So are you willing to help me at least try?” Max asked. “If not, I need to see if I can figure out another path?”
Nerdok took a long drink, finishing his glass, and then smacked his lips together. After that, the gnome set his glass on the table and leaned forward. “I will ask, but there is no guarantee they will even come before the time of your fight. You should consider walking away from this fight. I understand the dilemma of losing a world, but I also understand the dangers of fighting against a void god better than your helper does.”
A tablet appeared in Nerdok’s hands, and the gnome’s tiny fingers began moving with the same speed as Jazzjak’s when working. Soon, a screen appeared in the middle of the table. Four items were shown, two of which Max could kind of recognize from what he had learned back home.
“I can see it in your gaze,” Nerdok said. “You don’t know what you don’t know. These are the only four items I have ever witness that did any damage to a void god. The first you see is what you are seeking.”
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Max nodded, his eyes fixated upon the small, round ball of metal with runic lines that seemed to absorb light even through the image that displayed it.
“This is a black hole bomb. Extremely rare and feared by gods everywhere. One doesn’t typically walk away from one of these.”
The gnome chuckled suddenly and then laughed. After he stopped, Nerdok cleared his throat. “Forgive me… a… gnome crafting joke. I can tell you on two hands how many of these I know about, and I can tell you that rumors of having one give many gods a free pass in some ways. There are tiers; they become less dangerous, but you’re not in that category yet. Any god with a few points in intelligence would avoid conflict against one of these.”
Nerdok pointed at the second item, which looked like large spikes with a flat end. They pulsed with a weird purple color.
“Those are known as void nails,” Nerdok stated. “The problem is you have to drive them into the void god you are facing. Getting close is painful, as is avoiding their attacks. But if you can manage to sink a few of those into the god, you’ll have them begging for mercy.”
“What do they do?” Max asked.
The gnome shrugged. “Don’t know, just know about them and witnessed them being used once in a tier 4 fight. Where you get those, I don’t know, and no one wants to tell. That coil you see which looks like wire, is usually called a system leash . I’ve heard of one being used. Ugly things, from what I was told. It would work on a void god, or any god, but where one acquires them from, I have no idea.”
A tiny finger pointed at the last object on the display. A box covered in runes spun slowly. The dull brown metal had seams all over, where red or yellow light seemed to try to break loose from.
“That right there is about 1,000,000,000,000,0000 DP,” Nerdok said slowly. “One quadrillion .”
“That’s… so gods spend that kind of DP on a single item?” Max asked. “What does it do?”
Nerdok started to laugh and shrugged. “Beats me. All I know is another god killed a tier 12 void god with one. They also destroyed about a hundred worlds that didn’t belong to them. Some kind of chain reaction object. There’s only one of them, and no one but the system knows who has it.”
That kind of power seems… foolish to allow gods to purchase. Especially if it could take out a god of that power.
“Would something like that be able to injure one of the Nine?”
Nerdok winced, two silver eyes darting around the room as if he were searching for something. “We don’t talk like that… it isn’t smart to speak out loud one’s ideas on that. If you want to have those kinds of talks, you’ll have to reach the home of the Archons. Only there can you speak without fear of being heard.”
Max felt his heart beat just a little faster as his mind raced down a hundred paths at that statement. “You’re saying that other gods, potentially those we won’t talk about, can listen in to conversations my friends and I have?”
“Possibly,” Nerdok said. “So please do not discuss them at all.”
“The whole name the god and it gets their attention thing?” Max asked.
“Basically, yes,” Nerdok replied. “Now, back to why you’re here and what you want. I’ll ask if I can acquire what you seek. Just know I wouldn’t hold your breath.”
“Any ideas how long I might have to wait to find out?” Max asked. “I’m kind of on the clock here.”
Nerdok shrugged. “No. That is the nature of the ones I serve. They may come, or they may not. All I can do is send them a request.”
Max nodded, trying not to lose hope or allow frustration to sink in. “I guess I’ll wait. Can I borrow Fipple while I’m here?”
A silver eyebrow rose. “Why would you want to torture that poor dwarf? He’s getting past that age where a good scare might just make his heart give out.”
Max chuckled and shrugged. “I’ll behave, I promise.”
***
Fipple finally caught his breath as he lay flat on his stomach, glancing down at the city below, his pink beard flapping in the wind that blew across Max’s dimensional space.
“You… weren’t kidding. We’re so… high.” The dwarf gasped.
“And no one but you gets to see this,” Max said, his feet dangling over the edge. “Tell me, what’s a hundred years been like for you?”
Fipple coughed and slowly made his way to the edge and sat like Max was, both eyes growing larger by the second. “Uh… fast? Slow? Long? What kind of answer are you wanting?”
Max shrugged. “I’m just trying to understand what it’s like, living as long as you do, seeing the world below pass by. How many dwarves, gnomes, and goblins have you seen grow old and die? How do you handle that kind of pain?”
Fipple’s eyes narrowed, and Max could sense the intensity of the gaze.
“You asking for personal reasons or something else?”
“Both,” Max answered. “I’m watching people I’ve invested in and nurtured pass away. I know more are coming, and I am well aware that I will watch many more grow old and pass away. I just thought I’d ask you that question.”
“Did you ask Nerdok ?” Fipple whispered.
“No,” Max replied. “I considered it, but if he’s anything like the one on my world, I’m not sure the answer he gave would work for me. You’ve lived less time. You’re invested. I’m still new to this and thought I’d ask my older friend what it was like.”
Fipple chuckled before puffing out his chest. “Older friend… I like that… I wish I had a better answer, but you kind of get used to it. It was hard when I lost my Grams and Gramps. They were old, bitter, hilarious dwarves, but time got ’em. The funeral was nice. I did meet a cousin there, but we didn’t hit it off after the third date, so I…” Fipple stopped talking, his cheeks going red as Max bit his lips. “Uh… sorry, rambling there. Forget the whole cousin thing.”
Max nodded. “Forgotten.”
Oh no, we will never forget that.
Clearing his throat, Fipple stared off across the sky. “One day I’ll die. I know it. I just hope when it comes, I can look back and say my life was worth it. If I can say that, then I’ll have no regrets.”
Max clapped a hand on the dwarf’s shoulder, gripping it as Fipple lurched backward.
“Sorry,” Max said. “Forgot we were up here.”