The Gamer Chapter 1419 – Thorough Grinding 11 – To Wield (Patreon)
Content
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‘And there it is,’ John thought, hovering a short two metres above the battlefield. Below, the various haremettes were cleaning up the last of the oozes. The stretch between the Phalanx Sludge and the, presumably, final boss of the area had been much like the stretch between the Master of Pipes and the Phalanx Sludge: pits and oozes. High HP enemies that required kiting and parkour were two of John’s least favourites activities when it came to Raiding. In a video game, he would have considered writing a strongly worded email to the developers. In real life, it wasn’t that bad. When the whole body was taxed, boredom was difficult to feel.
Regardless, they left the Raid the moment they had finished mopping up that group of enemies. John was just too excited to get the next Class Perk unlocked.
“We’ll draw lunch forwards a bit,” he told Aclysia, while they returned to the mansion.
“As you wish, Master,” the weaponized maid stated. Every step she took was accompanied by cracks and crunches. The ice that covered her body and weapon was gradually bursting off her, rejected by the scales that rapidly heated up to regular body temperature. The maid uniform only waited to grow underneath.
With a chain of kisses on his cheeks, the harem dispersed. The final few Perks of the Golemcrafter were matters that only affected his personal combat and that he already had a clear vision on. No input was needed there. Many would still be around. After all, they were heading from where his Ambassador Double stood to where his real body was currently lounging in an armchair.
John, in his real body, denied himself the satisfaction of pressing the Perk for just a moment, distributing his Stat Points first.
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‘No bonus on 2000 Wisdom,’ John thought with a sigh. ‘Guess it is at 2500. Well, I’m no longer mana starved, so that’s not that bad.’ He dismissed those windows and hopped from one foot to the other. He was so close to wielding Inkaryl properly, it was making him excited through and through. He could practically taste the power.
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“YES!” he shouted, excited. The outburst caused the haremettes, returning or staying, to hasten into the living room and check what the fuss was about. Sylph lunged onto his shoulders, wrapping her thighs around his neck and plopping her apple bottom on the backrest. All the while, she read what was on offer.
“Yay! You got what you wanted! It’s Christmas!” she declared.
John just gave it a full-body nod and slammed his finger down as hard as he could on the pseudo-illusionary surface. Whatever resistance there was to these windows was not enough to withstand his enthusiasm. He tilted forwards, then was pulled back by Sylph’s legs.
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The Gamer’s heart stopped in his chest. One time he allowed himself to be overly happy in his Perk selection and this was what happened? Had he seriously fat-fingered the selection so much?
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“Gaia!” he shouted, displeased. He imagined he could sense divine laughter in the way the sunlight hit the grass and the still air was softly disturbed by their body heat. Then he heard the supreme deity laugh at him in certain terms. The sassy giggle made him shake his fist at the ceiling.
The gesture managed to loosen the shock in his bones. Rolling his shoulders, he attempted to get it out fully. Then he reluctantly freed himself of Sylph’s thighs. “Time to check out how well that works,” he announced to everyone. He could just have changed the ‘focus’ of his extended consciousness to the Creator Puppet, but there was no way they’d want to miss this.
Back outside, the harem and John himself formed a semi-circle around his golem body. Any resemblance with John was already lost. The Creator Puppet in Avatar Mode reverted to the multi-coloured swirls of alchemically blended metals. It was a mannequin perfectly copying John’s size and build, even the shape of his facial structure. Despite that similarity, there was no hair, no eyes, and none of the animation to its face that could have it be mistaken as him.
Inkaryl sat restless on the floor. The half-buried blades and handle of the weapon stretched and slotted back into place. Repeated snaps filled the air like a mechanical heartbeat or the excited clicking of mandibles. The cruel mace tilted ever so slightly towards the Creator Puppet’s hand. A cacophony of sounds filled the air in excited equilibrium, a multitude of colours dancing through the six translucent edges that surrounded the bulky, jagged heart of the weapon.
An aura of light surrounded the golem’s form, wilting nearby grass into a yellowish-brown carpet. The metallic heartbeat loudly – ‘CLA-CLUNK’ – and when the blades slotted back into their proper location, they were of silver and gold. The cacophony was broken down to a choir of ethereal voices. A choir that whispered instructions into the Gamer’s mind. The instinctive knowledge on what to do next.
Radiant mist drifted from the golden edges of the mace, a stark contrast to its otherwise so dull and malicious grey. The golem swung the weapon, gathering sunlight around it like a leaf would attract morning dew. When he hammered down on the ground, the light seeped into the ground and exploded in circular patterns. Fluidly, he raised the weapon again and pointed it at a random point in the distance, loosening a concentrated beam of light.
The heavy weapon quivered. The aura around the Creator Puppet turned from a golden glow to a mantle of fire. The dried grass caught flame immediately. The metallic heart beat and crimson became the dominant colour of the Legendary sceptre.
The fire that enveloped it was of a deeper colour than that of the golem’s aura. Bloody and with a core that was of an even darker red, rather than the honest gold of natural fire. The Hellfire burned quietly, a subtle undertone under the shredding sounds, akin to an electrical guitar, that accompanied each torching swing.
Red turned to blue. Where fire enveloped the weapon in one moment, moisture soon took its place. Water pooled on the blades and the body of the mace. The Creator Puppet took a few steps, the fresh blades of grass in the new area fraying as the water inside them was forcefully drawn from their easily manipulated forms. Where Inkaryl lingered, the effect was reinforced, more and more water surrounding the weapon. The gathered mass rippled from the unnervingly calm keys of a metallic piano. When the Gamer swung the mace, the liquid’s surface hardened, forming additional blades or spikes. The water was dark and muddy, drenched in dangerous magics.
All of the moisture dropped to the ground, followed by a fourth beat of the mechanical heart. The aura around Jake was now one of darkness. The light of the time dilated dusk was swallowed and lesser eyes would no longer have been capable of perceiving what the golem did. Little scratching sounds echoed from the ground, and interplay with the ethereal violins, where the elemental force sliced into the dirt. Each swing of the mace left trails of obscuring darkness that he himself had little difficulty seeing through.
The darkness disappeared, and the slicing grew more turbulent and frequent. A cyclone of damaging gusts surrounded the golem, etching spirals into the ground. Green blades surrounded Inkaryl’s core. Each swing sent sickles of energy flying, and when the Creator Puppet concentrated, blue and green lightning danced around the segments of the weapon. All of it surrounded by the glockenspiel of a weapon in its purpose.
A last metallic beat was followed by a steady drumming. Now the colour of healthy earth, the weapon felt heavier than ever before. The ground trembled when he swung it, fountains of dirt rushing upwards to extend his reach, and soil turning into spikes of rock when he slammed the weapon directly into the ground. The ground around his feet was turned abrasive and thorny where he walked, the aura of the golem claiming it for him and him alone.
The Creator Puppet turned Inkaryl around and then dropped it blades-first onto the floor. The blades turned back into the prismatic translucency of the six-elemental alloy. With a satisfied click, the mace went inert. It had been wielded in the way it was supposed to.
The harem looked somewhat confused after the golem as it wandered off to the Magus’ house. “What’re ya doin’?” Hailey asked.
“The Creator Puppet has a soul now,” John reported. “Which, in turn, means it should be able to be integrated into the Fateweaving. I’ll have Magoi do that.”
“You mean I can stop making replacement bodies?” Delicia asked.
“Maybe, we’ll have to run some tests first.”
Unlike all other participants, the Creator Puppet had not been alive in the Abyssal sense. Because of that, if it had broken during the Raid, that would’ve been it. Maybe the materials could have been recovered between attempts (or after the boss kill). More likely, they would have been lost. In either case, John was happy they no longer had to run that risk.
After the Creator Puppet had been successfully included into the Fateweaving, they ran a related experiment. Now that the golem was no longer completely in the category of ‘object’, it stood to reason that healing magic would work on it when it hadn’t previously. The answer to that was: yes and no. While healing magic did let the Creator Puppet recover to its original shape, should any part of it be broken, lost materials could not be replaced.
Magical healing was a bit nebulous in its workings, as magic tended to be, but it appeared that a replenishment factor was generally required. For biological entities, mana evidently could take the place of the nourishment required for new cell divisions, while also accelerating and perfecting the process in a manner that left no scarring nor advanced aging. For fully magical entities like elementals, healing replenished and restored the energy that kept their corporeal form whole. This was particularly evident in John’s case, as Gamer’s Body abstracted healing to HP. Most beings that fell between ‘fully biological’ and ‘fully magical’ functioned with a mixture of both.
The complicated area were those entities that were magical but not biological. Artificial Spirits, for example, could only heal for as long as they had the necessary elements in storage to replenish their physical form. No amount of healing magic would apply beyond that. The Creator Puppet appeared to work similarly. As did the Mandala Sphere – Although that was typically covered up by the Ambassador Double. Underneath that perfect reconstruction of John was still the item. The advantage of the Perk was that the materials remained underneath the ‘skin’, so healing would work up until the Mandala Sphere was completely destroyed. If it even took physical damage. Particle Skin had the means of preventing that.
With these new revelations at hand, John could tell Delicia that she was NOT done crafting replacement bodies. Fateweaving prevented imminent death, not all of the material loss up to the point of death. If the Creator Puppet got damaged to the point of inefficiency, then it would need to be repaired and another body be provided in the meantime.
With those two questions cleared out, there was much more to do. Namely, the rest of the Raid segment had to be cleared. Although John itched to utilize the Creator Puppet, it was the worst of his three bodies to fight the oozes and he was reluctant to use it in the first place. Every time it died, that was tens of thousands of Tokens down the drain. His pockets were deep and they would only remain deep if he didn’t splash resources that the entire world wanted on swinging a hammer around effectively.
“I might need a toss-away version of the Creator Puppet,” John voiced his thoughts.
He was lounging in a part of the bath that was exactly the kind of luxurious nonsense only the rich or powerful could afford. A flat, curved wall of marble. A basin in the top constantly supplied water to stream down in a constant, soft fall. Underneath was a resting place with hydrophobic cushions, on which one could lie and look over the jacuzzi further down. Half a metre difference in height was a notable distance when everything else was beneath this comfortable lounger.
The words ‘On John Newman’s wishes’ were etched in bold, enormous letters into both ends of the flat curve. The Gamer knew that this was a jab Magoi took at his indulgences. Worse, John actually liked this construct. It was an utterly ridiculous way to fulfil his request for a ‘fancy jacuzzi’. It was a meme of John’s life, one that he leaned into at every opportunity, that he always needed a jacuzzi. At this point, he needed enormous ones. This managed to cover the bases and be stylish while doing so.
And it let John feel like a Greek god.
While he was lying on the cushions, Lorelei gathered water in a vase. Softly the hand of the seer quivered as she poured it over him. She wore more than anyone else in the room: her chastity belt and a top of fitting blue and gold colours. The mixture of metal and silk kept her inner sanctum free of any hands John did not approve of – including her own. What a grand and intoxicating debauchery.
The seer continued the ordered service, basking John with warm waters, while he just lay there and watched Delicia and Lee making out. One was taking a break from her alchemy work – in some capacity. According to her, she needed time to complete distilling a certain amount of material within her body and she might as well spend that time doing something fun. Lee on the other hand was done with her chores and too horny to play whatever was on her list today.
John would join them in the lewdness soon enough. He wanted to bask in the situation for a little while longer. To lay above a marble basin of clean, hot water, getting serviced by a woman as submissive as they came, while his very seat was continuously warmed by the endless streams – the only way any of that could have been made better was if he introduced additional servants to the mix. A maid feeding him grapes, a brat fanning air for him with a sour and yet excited expression, a girlfriend lying next to him, and a whole harem making out for their viewing pleasure.
‘It’s good to be the dom,’ he thought.
Satisfaction turned into mild ire while his statement went ignored. Delicia kept making out with Lee. The shortstack’s tongue was always in motion. Even Lee was taller than the alchemist and between the two of them neither was sufficiently dominant to take the lead. Still, it appeared the alchemist had the upper hand. Because she had a teasing aspect of her personality? No. It was entirely because of the enormity of the chest that was pressed against that of the gamer girl. Barely anything of Lee’s itty bitty bits remained on display, buried under Delicia’s titanic tits.
John loudly cleared his throat and the kiss broke with two lewd gasps. “Whaaaaaat?” the alchemist complained, her eyes flustered and irate. Immediately they darted to his cock, making the Gamer himself aware of his erection. “Can a girl enjoy some girls around here or does your inferiority complex act up if you’re not the source of 90% of orgasms? Urgh. I was-“
The snap of his fingers shut her up instantly. The annoyance in her gaze turned into a craving that had been underneath from the start. Rather than speak any order, he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her into his lap. “You were not listening,” he told her. Simultaneously, his cock penetrated her folds.
“S-s-soooo?” Delicia put up the expected resistance. “Ah!” The loud moan followed the expected smack on her ass. Everything about this was expected. That did not make her defiant stare or tight cunt any less pleasing though. “Guess you’ll have to repeat yourself for me – can’t be expected to-“
“Shut – up,” John hissed at her. For a moment the order worked, then the sparkle of sassiness shone in her eyes. Before she could violate his demand, he had already grabbed her by the throat. With the handle on her windpipe, he thrust up into her.
Lorelei barely managed to keep pouring the water over his torso. The toys that extended from the inside of her chastity belt buzzed at a frequency that brought her to the edge of multiple orgasms that never came. Lee still sat in the water, holding her own neck in a facsimile of what the Gamer was doing to Delicia and masturbating fervently.
Every now and again, Delicia attempted to shoot John a smug grin. A challenge that was always answered with a slap, be it to her face, her fat tits, or round rump. The sinful squishy body of the shortstack reacted to the abuse with delighted quivers. One orgasm rolled into the next, until every attempt at mockery was drowned out by the fucked silly expression on her face.
John suddenly switched the positions around. Pressing her down into the cushions, he buried her small frame underneath his comparatively bulky body. Constant hammering filled the room, flesh slapping against flesh, tits clapping from the sheer might of the quakes forced upon her. Delicia remained silenced by her dom’s strong hands. The only smile on her face was that of bliss.
“Finish me off,” John ordered and pulled out. He did not stop gazing at Delicia, not even as the seer beside them grabbed his cock. She moaned, feeling his cock in her hand for the first time in days. Sometimes he let her play with what she couldn’t have.
Quick, long strokes eventually sent the ropes of cum blasting all over Delicia’s chest. When it was done, Lorelei stared at the white sticking to her hand. The wish to lick it off was written on every centimetre of her flushed form.
“Lee, clean Lorelei’s hand,” John stated. The denial of her wish only made the chaste seer swoon more intensely. While that was happening, the Gamer bowed down to Delicia’s ear. “Listen here, you little brat,” he whispered into her ear, “I know exactly that you heard me. I need the kind of body that’s easily replaceable for Raids. Don’t worry about using metals with high grade elemental resistance, we’ll leave that to the Perk’s effects. Just make sure you maximize the Stat effects.” He grabbed the vase Lorelei had been using and rinsed his cum off Delicia’s body. A mournful gasp escaped the shortstack, as her favourite treat dissolved in the water, ultimately to disappear entirely down the drain. “Be a good girl and I’ll reward you, understood?”
“Yesh, Masterrrrr,” Delicia purred, between broken and lucid.
This was her favourite way to take requests.