Chapter 458: [Vol. 11 pt. 5]

Cassiel said that she liked to hear Fenrir ramble, and so, once she returned and they were ready to roast some fish over the fire, Fenrir rambled. Eva was also more than happy to listen in as Fenrir went on about the different fish that him and the other fishers of Nameless found in the local waters, and he made sure to go all into detail about their different flavors, the texture differences, how some of the crafters have been using their scales, eyes, and even organs in various crafting recipes, and so on.

He also got to ramble about his technique of gutting the fish, spreading its body out over some sticks, and then roasting that over the fire with the meat exposed to it while the scaled side stayed up above. Of course, he also mentioned how he learned that entirely from videos on the internet of people trying to show how it used to be done back in the day, so he had no idea if he was actually doing anything the proper way or not.

It always turned out fine in-game, though, so his survivalist skills were good enough as far as he was concerned.

“Question,” Eva said, raising her hand once Fenrir finally stopped talked.

“Answer,” Fenrir replied.

“Does it matter if you leave the organs in or not? I mean, I know you said you should take the organs out before cooking the fish, but why?”

“Oh. Because if you roast the fish with the organs still inside, I guess… that can ruin the flavor? I’m—I’m not actually sure, but that’s what the videos always said. But they never explained how it would ruin the flavor. Maybe… I don’t know, some gases or acids or something inside of them could ruin the meat while cooking?”

“Makes sense. I could imagine the heat bloating the stomach up until it bursts, and I doubt you want the stomach’s contents getting on the meat you’re going to eat.”

“Yeah. Maybe that’s it.”

“But that gives me an idea.”

“Yeah?”

“Fish bombs.”

“Fish… fish bombs?”

“Imagine saving a bunch of stomachs from fish, filling them to the brim with something that will make them more explosive, and then shooting them at people somehow. Fish bombs. They hit the target area and burst, splattering fish stomach stuff everywhere. It would stink and be a huge demoralizer.”

“Eva…”

Cassiel sighed, interrupting Fenrir, and asked, “Why would you even—”

But Fenrir then interrupted Cassiel to say, “I love you. That’s an amazing idea.”

“Right?” Eva asked.

Cassiel looked between the two with a blank expression, completely missing out on what made the idea so amazing.

“Eva, I need to hire you as my biological warfare expert,” Fenrir said. “Together, we could create weapons that strike fear into everybody in this world. Well, strike fear into anybody who fucks with us. We’re pacifists, after all. We only attack when somebody attacks us first.”

“Of course, of course,” Eva said with a couple of nods. “Pacifists. Totally.”

“Yep, yep. Anyways, for the submarine—imagine if we create fish missiles. Instead of nuclear warheads… nuclear fish heads. Except they wouldn’t be nuclear. Explosive fish heads. Explosive fish stomach heads? We’ll work on the name later. The important thing is that—just imagine how much of a beautiful troll missile that is. Actually… this is even better than proper explosive, destructive missiles.”

“H-how…?” Cassiel asked, desperately wanting to understand.

Fenrir looked at Eva and dramatically pointed at her. “You answer her. I want to see just how much you’ve learned from being around me.”

With a playful yet serious salute, Eva stood up, cleared her throat, and then pretended that she was giving a lecture in front of a chalkboard that she was pointing at with a stick she picked up from the ground. “You see, there are many merits to such a missile. The first and most important thing is that it will cause significant distress to the nostrils of anybody within smelling distance. Furthermore, by being an explosive, the fragments of such a warhead will be strewn about the entire impact zone for days to weeks, even potentially months. Every time somebody believes that they got the last fragment of fish stomach, they will still be able to smell it, go on a furious search for it, and repeat over and over again. They will most likely never find every last piece until it has naturally degraded away via weather or some other external effect. It will make walking through the impact area insufferable without something to block the nostrils. This could easily be dealt with by doing exactly that, or wearing a form of gas mask until the scent has been confirmed removed, but that is still an annoying hassle that they did not have to deal with before.”

“I feel like that would just piss them off,” Cassiel said.

“It would, but this is where what I have learned from Fen comes into play. To launch a missile from an unknown location that hits the enemy’s base and splashes it with fish stomachs… that is the ultimate flex, basically. It asserts dominance. It tells our enemies ‘we are capable of sneaking close to your base and launching missiles at it, but you are so insignificant to us that we are only going to splash fish stomachs all over it instead of actually destroy you. You are below us. You are not worthy of being destroyed. Know your place.’ It would be extremely demoralizing to be on the receiving end of such an attack. Especially when you belong to a faction that is supposed to be the one trolling and griefing everybody else. To be out-griefed like that, and looked down on in such a way—that’s the ultimate power move.”

“Of course,” Fenrir joined in, “you still actually bomb them afterward.”

“O-oh. You do? But wouldn’t that make it… not really a power move, since then you’re saying they actually are worth bombing?”

“Well, yeah. They’re a threat. I wouldn’t trust them to not come and try to screw with us after doing something like that. So, first, you bomb them with fish. Troll them and piss them off. Make them feel challenged. Then, before they can retaliate, you bomb them for real.”

“But wouldn’t they be careful after the first missiles? You would probably do less damage that way.”

“They would expect a second salvo, if it’s coming, to follow up the first one. All you have to do is wait a bit for them to lower their guards again and start cleaning up. That’s when you get them. You strike them with the real missiles while they’re in the middle of cleaning up the aftermath from the first missiles. Honestly, you’d probably do more damage this way. You see, what are the chances of a bunch of random people being outside where they can get hit without reason? The first missiles give them a reason to be gathered together to clean up and get rid of the stench as quickly as they can. Besides, the first missiles are also going to be at least a little explosive. They can help weaken any defenses that might be there before the real explosives shake them up.”

“I didn’t think about that. Makes sense.”

“Then you wait a couple of days. Let them think you’ve left. Focus on hiding so that they have no idea what’s going on or who is doing it. Once their guard is down again, or once they’re getting ready to go on a counterattack… you strike again. Three attacks in total. The first to troll. The second to kill. The third to crush them. At that point, the submarine will be out of missiles and need to return anyways.”

“Alright,” Cassiel spoke up, “but then what about when they bring their entire forces against us?”

“The plan is to dissuade as many of them as possible first. The submarine is just part of the plan to demoralize them and split their faction up. Our spy on the inside is going to help with that. Then with the submarine and a few other ideas I have—by the point they actually know it’s us and are ready to launch a full-scale attack against us, most of them will have abandoned the group… if not try to stage a coup and take over. Chaos is the goal. They’ve shown what tactics they’re willing to use against us, so I have no doubt that they could kick our asses if they seriously invade us with all that they have. That’s why we have to weaken them to the point where attacking us is nothing but a suicidal dream. Even then, some of them are probably going to try attacking us, but all we have to do at that point is fuck them up.”

While Eva nodded along, taking mental notes during Fenrir’s explanations, Cassiel let out a sigh at the end of them.

Eva was the first to ask what was up with the sigh. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s just—it’s a… good plan, just not a… good plan,” Cassiel answered.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean—I know it’s the best plan for us that will keep everybody as safe as possible on our end, but there’s no honor to it. I’m not the trolling or griefing type. I want to meet my enemies on the battlefield and fight them fairly. All of this other stuff… just feels dirty to me.”

“Oh. I guess I can understand where you’re coming from. But do you really feel that way even against the End Bringers? They would never give you that honor, so why would you want to give them that honor?”

“To show that we’re better than them. To show that even if they use dirty tactics that we can still beat them honorably. That is putting them in their place, as far as I’m concerned.

“Damn,” Fenrir said. “That’s hot.”

“Of course you’d say that.”

“I concur,” Eva said. “I want you to honorably put me in my place on the battlefield, too.”

“You’re both degenerates.”

Eva gave a thumbs-up. “We’re your degenerates.”

Fenrir nodded with his arms crossed over his chest. “Eva is truly wise. Also, the plan is getting changed. A little, at least. We’re still going to do everything else that I said, but we also have to set up at least one battle—maybe the final battle, to let Cass Cass take the lead on a fair field. I’m not sure how we would set that up, but we’re going to.”

“You don’t have to,” Cassiel said.

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“Yes I do.”

“No you don’t.”

“Yes I do.”

A sigh. “Why?”

“Because I love you and want you to feel included. Hmm.”

“Idea!” Eva shouted out, making both Fenrir and Cassiel jump from how sudden and loud she was. “Okay. So, I’ve been playing around with this idea for a long time. Background first. I’ve always thought that paratroopers are really, seriously cool. Like, seeing paratroopers jump from a plane and parachute down with their guns ready—seriously badass. Then I started thinking, ‘What if fantasy paratroopers existed?’ I actually tried writing a novel online about that, but some guy commented on the first chapter calling my writing shit, so I never continued it. Anyways! Fantasy paratroopers. Here’s what I’m thinking. We use Aza to somehow tame a bunch of dragons, since she could probably do it with the power of her boobs or something—I swear that’s why Death likes her. Anyways again, she tames a bunch of dragons for us. Then we have Cass and some others fly down there, jump off, and parachute down right into the middle of the enemy base. Then the slaughter commences. I’m getting horny just thinking about Cass looking that badass.”

Fenrir nodded again. “I totally understand. Alright. So, Cass Cass, is that honorable enough for you? Being a paratrooper dropping straight into the middle of enemies is honorable, right?”

“I… think so,” Cassiel answered. “That… does sound pretty cool.”

“Wait.”

“What?”

“These… are the End Bringers we’re talking about. You know, the most horrible people in this game who purposely exploit it as much as they’re allowed to in order to do all sorts of fucked up things to avatars and NPCs. If you get captured…”

“They can’t do anything to me because I have traumatizing content disabled. The worst they would be able to do is strip my avatar, and I would have woken from virtual reality before I’m able to experience that. Also, I’d just kill myself instead of letting them capture me. Also, all you did is convince me even more to do this. I don’t want to imagine what sort of conditions they’re keeping NPCs in down there. Even if I’m not as fanatic about NPCs as you… it’s still wrong to do what they’re doing, and I want to help those who are suffering at their hands no matter what it may cost this artificial body. Besides, it’s real to them. This body—it’s fake. But to them, it’s real. What’s happening to them is infinitely worse than anything that could happen to me.”

The mood was far more serious than it was just moments before, but not without good reason.

“I’ll drop with you then,” Fenrir said. “There’s no way I’d let you drop down in the middle of those assholes without me at your side.”

Eva raised her hand. “I’ll be your air support. Preferably alongside the dragons. Also, before either of you say it, I know it would probably be more effective to just stay on the dragons and cause chaos from the safety of their backs… but that’s not as cool as being a fantasy paratrooper. Plus I don’t think it would scratch that fair and honorable itch.”

“It wouldn’t,” Cassiel answered. “But I won’t say no to air support.”

“Alright, scratch the previous plan then,” Fenrir said. “Well, the latter half of it. We’re still going to weaken and demoralize them, but then… it’s going to be time for a full-blown invasion. We’ll take out their defenses with missiles. Then we’ll have an invasion fleet that lands on their shores, and then send in the paratroopers to land behind the enemies who are already distracted fighting us off at the beach. Wait. One more thing. Eva?”

“Yeah?” Eva replied.

“We’re going to need the most permanent paint you can come up with. I want to draw giant dicks all over their island that are impossible to scrub off.”

“Nice. I’ll figure something out.”

“Wait,” Cassiel spoke up again. “We’re doing all this planning for this invasion… instead of actually coming up with an idea for how to get off this island.”

“Well, we have to eat first,” Fenrir answered. “The fish are only just now done. Also, it’s turning night. There’s nothing we can—or should, do until it’s light out. And we’ve got plenty of time to discuss what to—”

A spear twice the size of Fenrir crashed into their beachside firepit with enough force that it knocked all three people, and the napping Rock, away.

Just as Fenrir recovered to look up at where the spear came from, he saw another coming his way and had to immediately roll out of the way to avoid getting impaled.

“Come on, only Cass Cass is allowed to impale me with her spear!” Fenrir shouted.

“Would you shut up about that?!” Cassiel shouted back at him as had her own spears coming her way to dodge.

Then, with heavy footsteps, a massive ape the size of a small house stepped out onto the beach wielding what looked like a giant, primitive axe in one hand with several tree trunks strapped together to form a shield held by his other hand.

More apes stepped out from the trees to join him, each one wielding their own primitive weaponry.

“Great,” Cassiel said. “We’re being attacked by an army of King Kon—”

Another spear tossed her way interrupted her from finishing her sentence.

It clearly looked like a game over situation. Fenrir had no idea how they were supposed to defend against a legion of giant apes wielding weapons bigger than their bodies. Any other time, he would have accepted that it was simply going to be a fight to the death for him to respawn from later.

But they had Rock with them.

Rock, even as injured as she was, still tried her best to stand up and snarl at the apes.

“Eva, you remember where Cass woke up at?” Fenrir asked.

“Ye-yeah?” Eva asked in response.

“I need you to go grab as many of those mind control plant things as you can.”

“But that’s going to leave you and Cass alone to—oh. I see what you’re thinking. You know I have no idea if it will work to turn them against each other, right? It might only make its targets go after players.”

“Kadi isn’t lame enough to make something that limited. If she’s anything, she’s fair and rewards creativity as long as it doesn’t try propelling this world into the modern era. Just be fast, alright?”

With a nod of her head, Eva didn’t waste any more time and took off to fly toward where she found those plants at as quickly as she could.

That left only Fenrir and Cassiel to defend against the apes since Rock was in no condition to do so.

“Cass Cass, here’s your chance to put a bunch of dishonorable ambushers in their place,” Fenrir teased.

“Good,” Cassiel replied with a smile on her face. “Then I’ll prove to you that those End Bringers won’t be anything to me. These oversized monkeys already look way stronger than those wannabes.”

“I’d prefer if they’re actually weaker given that we’re probably screwed if they’re not.”

“Stronger, weaker, doesn’t matter. We have Rock to defend, and we’ll defend her against anybody who wants to hurt her.”

“That, I can agree with.”

More and more of the hostile apes came out from the behind the trees, and they were clearly intelligent enough to wait and try to deal with Fenrir and Cassiel from a distance first while analyzing just how much of a potential threat they were.

It wasn’t going to be easy, but it was necessary to win if they wanted to protect Rock.

Fenrir just really wished Ilo was around since she destroyed the first giant monkey they ever had to fight. But without her, it was up to them.

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