My Second Life Is A Heroic Power Fantasy - Chapter 173

Jack sat up and fumbled clumisly from one belt pouch to the next until he found the bottle he was looking for. Sticking it in his mouth, he pulled the cork free with his teeth and chugged down the contents in one giant gulp. Immediately his face twisted in revulsion. The fluid was thick, sticky, and lumpy, and tasted like turned milk. He swallowed and gagged. Immediately after the potion made it down his throat, he felt a rush of energy returning to his limbs, and his head cleared enough for him to climb back to his feet.

[“There you go.”] Frumpkin said, then asked [“so, do you just like pushing yourself to the edge for fun, or do you seriously not think far enough ahead to plan for things like this?”]

Jack spun Harrowbloom around as his muscles surged back to life.

“Honestly, a little bit of both. I really need to do better about the second one.” He said.

[“Well, step one is admitting you have a problem.”] Frumpkin said, then laughed.

There was suddenly the sound of a blender running, then a few seconds later the wet plopping sound of something thick being poured into a glass.

“Making a margarita?” Jack asked as watched the first wave of the firestorm impact the camp in the distance.

[“Pina Colada, actually.”] Frumpkin said before loudly slurping something. [“You want one, kid?”]

Jack smirked as he watched a fireball slam into one of the gnoll tents, sending it flying to charred pieces in a spectacular red-orange explosion.

“You know what? Sure. Why not?” He said.

A moment later, Frumpkin poofed into the air next to him in a Hawaiian shirt and oversized sunglasses, holding two c.o.c.ktail glasses with matching little umbrellas and plastic crazy straws. He reached down and handed one to Jack.

“Lawn chair?” Frumpkin asked.

“…Absolutely.” Jack said.

With a flourish, Frumpkin beckoned a pair of brightly-colored plastic chairs from the aether, and dropped them on the ground. Jack picked the left one and flopped into it, picking his feet up and sticking the neon pink crazy straw in his mouth.

By now, the firestorm was in full effect, with fireball after fireball raining from the sky and exploding in the midst of the enemy defenses. Much of the protective wooden barrier was fully ablaze by now, and all of the tents and makeshift structures inside either burned or had collapsed completely. The adventurer Testudo paused at the close side of the bridge, waiting for the magic to end, while the gnolls on both sides of the defense barrier had a full-blown panic and attempted to flee in every direction from the conflagration.

One in particular, seeming to either not notice or not care about the two of them, ran straight towards them, its face twisted into a look of abject terror as its tongue lolled limply out of the side of its mouth.

Frumpkin and Jack watched lazily as it drew closer.

“Do you wanna take care of that? Or should I do the honors?” Frumpkin asked, tucking one arm behind his head and resting his drink on his stomach.

“I’ve got it.” Jack said. He pointed a finger-gun at the gnoll absent-mindedly and mumbled something. A bolt of purple energy shot from his fingertip and slammed into the dogman’s chest, knocking flying several feet backwards with a loud yelp.

“Good shot.” Frumpkin said, clinking his c.o.c.ktail glass against Jack’s.

“Thanks.” Jack said, sticking the straw in his mouth again.

The two of them sat in relative silence for several long moments as the aftermath of the rain of fire crackled and screamed in the distance.

“You know, I gotta tell ya kid, you’ve come a long way.” Frumpkin said, sucking the last of his drink out of the glass.

Jack looked over at Frumpkin and raised an eyebrow.

“Have I?”

Frumpkin nodded, tossing the empty c.o.c.ktail. It rocketed through the air a couple hundred feet before beaming another running gnoll in the head and knocking it unconscious.

“Nice shot.” Jack said. “10 points.”

“I didn’t have high hopes for you after the goblins, or the several weeks afterwards. But this week or two, I’ve changed my opinion. I still think you still have a long way to go, especially considering your competition. But I now think you could actually end up having a shot at winning. At least as long as you don’t go back to being pants on head retar-”

Frumpkin stopped mid-word, then cleared his throat.

“Stupid.”

Jack laughed.

“Thanks, Frumpkin. That means a lot, coming from you.” He said.