《Those That Do Not Yet Exist》The Most Overpowered Floofer (Part 2)
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BOOM.
King Edefreud raised his bearded head from the pile of documents, curious as to what happened. The sound had been incredibly loud, but distant at the same time. He wasn't entirely sure what had caused it - probably a magic experiment of some kind.
Looking around his small study, he glanced at the items scattered around his comfortable place. Candles in bronze sconces were lit, placed around the room on desks and cabinets. Small niches allowed space for the snoozing fireslimes that illuminated his messy office, and his gilt sword rested against his heavy oak desk. It was a nice place, one that was a very relaxing one for the busy King.
Glancing back down at his documents, he raised his quill and wet it, putting it to the paper.
Then the shockwave hit. A blast of hot air shattered the window, shot all of his documents against the back of the wall, and knocked him out of his chair and to the floor. His candles and his sword clattered to the ground, sliding away from the force.
Shaking his head, Edefreud stood back up and seized his sword, approaching the window cautiously. He didn't have a clue what had just transpired, but he suspected the Hero was somehow involved.
Staring out from his tower window, he put a hand over his eyes and squinted at the distance. A massive cloud of dust, easily big enough to encompass the kingdom, was rising in the far distance. Below him, citizens and guards alike were picking themselves up, trying to figure out what had happened. The trees decorating the white walls had lost much of their leaves from the shockwave and were trembling as they swayed back to their original positions.
He heard footsteps sprinting full-tilt up the stairs and turned to face his sturdy acacia door. It was thrown open by a mage, dressed in his battle robes and looking frantic. "Milord! We've initiated an emergency meeting. Please come to the war room."
Edefreud nodded, placing his ornate crown on his head and sheathing his sword. "I understand. Lead the way."
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It only took a few minutes for the mage to lead him to the war room, which was in pandemonium. To his surprise, the Hero himself was leaning against the back wall, quietly observing the chaos. He assumed that meant he wasn't the source of the explosion, which was... worrying.
As he entered, a wave of respectful silence swept over the crowd, aside from two figures standing beside the enchanted table. The table in question was in fact a map that displayed all of the lands under Kingslaurel's reign and could be instructed to display the deployed armies of either their allies or enemies. It'd been a gift from the Hermit Lord Abra himself - or rather, a bribe to leave him alone.
At any rate, the two persons arguing heatedly with each other were familiar to the King. One was his advisor, a powerful archmage named Khevryn wearing decadent ceremonial robes. He was calm and collected most days, with a cold and calculating approach to any problem thrown his way. His skill in strategy was nearly unequaled, and his advice invaluable.
Next to him was a man who dwarfed all others, easily two and a third meters high in his massive suit of armor. Holding his eagle-themed helmet under one arm, his flat brown hair and chiseled features were the talk of the kingdom. At the moment though, Jaskin's handsome face was screwed up in fury as he shouted at Khevryn.
"What do you mean, nowhere? It's right there! We could level the place from here!"
"If that worked, which I doubt, there would be no guarantee that it wouldn't seek revenge somehow! To say nothing of the damage to the surrounding towns!"
Coming around the table, Edefreud asked politely, "What are you discussing?"
To their credit, they looked embarrassed. For all of two seconds, that is. Jaskin pointed at the archmage, speaking in a much more manageable voice as he did. "Milord, this charlatan in curtains believes we should bomb the creature and be done with it! Can you imagine the damage?"
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Khevryn was incensed, his smooth features turning red in fury. "Charlatan!? At least I have something between my ears, brickhead!"
Jaskin almost retorted back, but Edefreud cut in pleasantly. He knew that these two could argue for hours - good-naturedly, of course.
Upon second thought, he rescinded, perhaps with slightly less than good natures.
"Very well, you're both idiots. Now then, would you stop acting like children and tell me what's going on?"
The general paused mid-insult and indicated the miniature model dust cloud rising from the table, talking normally. "My apologies. A dog appeared in the middle of nowhere and attacked a slime."
Edefreud blinked. "That's it?"
Khevryn snorted uncharacteristically. He seemed to be under a lot of stress. "No, that's not it. When he says it appeared, what he means is that it literally came out of nowhere and attacked a slime with a Joker-grade physical attack, which resulted in the dust cloud you can see here."
Edefreud's eyebrows raised. "Pardon me, but Joker? Really?" Most attacks were based on playing cards, from one to ten being average techniques, royals being high-ranking abilities, and Jokers being the trump card, so to speak. A move incalculable by ordinary levels.
He frowned. "How powerful is it?"
Khevryn nodded and waved at the table. A moment later, a fluffy yellow dog with a curious expression was displayed, its tongue lolling out of the side of its mouth. Raising a hand, the archmage paused. "May I use a , please?"
Edefrued gestured positively. It was considered impolite to use any appraisal spell in public, but in this case it would be allowed.
Nothing happened for several moments, and Khevryn's forehead furrowed. "My apologies. It seems to have been blocked somehow. I would like to request permission for a , milord."
That gave him pause. The spell in question was a dangerous one. It guaranteed full information from an individual, and couldn't be blocked by anything except divine means.
Several moments passed before Edefreud gave him a terse nod, and Khevryn nodded in grim appreciation. Raising one hand again, he said, "."
He had to support himself on the table from the amount of mana that left him for the spell, but a moment later, a blue board flicked into existence. Edefreud sucked in a sharp breath in shock.
Petey: Lvl 8
Class: Good Boy
Race: Dog (Golden Retriever)
Strength: 256,000
Speed: 256,000
Agility: 256,000
Endurance: 256,000
Charisma: 256,000
Luck: 256,000
Intelligence: 36
Skills: Fetch (1), Stay (1), Roll Over (1), Sit (1), Bite (MAX), Happy Aura (MAX), Levitate (1),
Perks: Boundless Joy (MAX), Endless Optimism (MAX), Pantheon's Blessing (MAX), Heroic Aptitude (MAX), Physical Resistance (MAX), Magical Resistance (MAX), Elemental Resistance (MAX), Mental Resistance (MAX), Golden Fur (MAX)
Edefreud swallowed, his mouth dry. "Uhhh..." It was most unkingly of him to say it, but he couldn't think of anything appropriate to say to those monstrous stats.
From the corner, the Hero laughed. "Good lord, that's ridiculous. Even when I started out, I was in the low thousands."
Everyone turned to him, and Jaskin whispered, "What in the world do we do against those stats?"
Shrugging, the Hero suggested, "You could send me. I'd take care of it."
Khevryn raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure you'd win?"
Lifting a finger, he clarified, "No, I mean I'd take care of it. I love dogs."
The King blinked. What was he supposed to say to him? The Hero supposedly had a stat average in the low millions.
Swallowing, he pointed at him. "I give you full authority to deal with the situation however you see fit."
The Hero smiled. "Perfect! I'll be back in an hour."
He was gone before anyone could react.
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