Fredric Loveman drew his longsword, which is like a shortsword but longer. Freddy was a knight-errant but was also a medieval weeb, so he liked to think of himself as a wandering samurai, or rōnin. See, anti-Japanese LibreOffice thinks I spelled that incorrectly because it has no- none- zero- zilch respect for the Yamato Spirit.
Fredric had respect, which was why he carried a backpack full of the lightsab—I mean the uh, what are those swords called, the katanas of the samurai he had defeated in their race to the End of the World to face the mighty Chimaera King.
Only one could face the CK and claim the prize: a princess who was a debt-free virgin without tattoos.
Fredric had his eyes on the prize. Not in a literal sense because he was still several miles from the top of Mount Oofyikes. But he was confident in his abilities as an experienced knight-errant and sword-mage; one of the few people smart enough to realize that dual-speccing is viable.
Fredric was the favorite of the gambling-addicts for almost any content in the Kingdom of Youdorealize. All except the pie-eating contests, because Fredric was not a glutton and treated such sinners with disdain. Fredric was a man of the gods, and a student of the greatest philosopher-kings who ever walked the planet. Pie eating contests? Lmao.
Another samurai emerged from the bushes, zipping up his kimono.
“I hope you enjoyed your leak,” Fredric said, drawing his sword. “Because it’s the last leak you’ll ever have.”
The samurai swiftly drew his katana and assumed a fighting stance. “Ah, you. They call you the Roaring Lion of Youdorealize. It will be my great honor to take your head.”
Fredric smirked. They did indeed call him the Roaring Lion of Youdorealize, but not for the reason the samurai believed. No, Fredric may have wielded a sword, but he cared little for the codes of Chivalry or Bushido. He cared a little more about Bushido because weeb but still not enough to follow it. With only one life to live, Fredric dedicated the bulk of his studies to the many books of spells left behind by the druids and wizards of yore before they’d invented space-ships and left the planet in search of a better planet with more trees or whatever who cares.
Fredric’s studies had turned him into something of an amateur druid himself, and it was because of this he was able to roll through his battle menu to MAGIC → SUMMONS → LION.
“RAWR xD!” rawred the lion and he pounced at the samurai, devouring his face and killing him instantly.
“30XP? Pathetic,” said the Lion. “Do not summon me again until the Chimaera, Fredric, or I will glomp you and nom your face as well.”
“Peace, my dear friend,” responded Fredric. “I will not risk your life against such a monster. Nay, I will slay the Chimaera with my own +5 Ice Sword.”
The Lion looked at him as if he were a fucking idiot.
“I hope you know what you’re doing, lad,” he said as he vanished back to the Kingdom of Lions.
“Oh, I know what I’m doing,” Fredric said to himself as he looted the samurai, claiming 15G and a Rare Katana.
“Not so fast!” cried a feminine voice from behind him.
Fredric turned and saw a female, solving the mystery of the feminine voice.
“I’m here to claim the bounty on your head from the Winston Twins,” said a very “average,” dumpy woman. 5’5, maybe 150lbs or so.
Most of the citizens of Youdorealize were overweight. For the men, it was a mark of constant shame. For the women, it was a flabby badge of honor that they pretended to be proud of and demanded that everyone else respect. But Fredric never signed a social contract that obligated him to glorify obesity. His bigoted, misogynistic rejection of the advances of countless fatty fat fatties had earned a 1,000,000G bounty on his head, placed by the notorious Winston Twins: wealthy, predatory male feminists who tweeted out all the right hashtags by day, and by night sent inappropriate messages to their female servants I mean employees.
“Begone, whore,” said Fredric. “Stupid fat bitch. Idiot cow.”
The cow stammered, bewildered that her Pussy Pass wasn’t enough to make Fredric surrender his life and astonished at the flow of horrifying misogynistic abuse flowing from Fredric’s mouth. It wasn’t just abuse however, but ancient masculine spells.
Cow fell to her knees and wept, her Ego utterly crushed beneath the gravity of Fredric denying her something she wanted. How could this be?
“It’s over,” announced Fredric, rotating his leg high into the air and bringing it down onto the back of her head like a sledgehammer. Her face hit the ground with such force that it sent a shockwave of toxicity through the forest, upsetting deer and angering squirrels.
Physically, she wasn’t dead, but she was out of The Game for the rest of her life—if you can call it that, and you shouldn’t. Fredric looted her husk and stood up with an extra 700G and a Poison Gas Grenade. Handy.
A cat ran over to the “woman”, and began eating her ear. She woke up, screamed and ran away. A thousand million cats chased after her. Fredric Examined them with his Y-button and saw that they all belonged to her.
“There’s no more time to waste,” Fredric insisted to the Universe before it decided to waste more of his time. But was the time really his? How could it be, if it could be taken away so easily?
A mountain troll leaped in his path.
“HENLO, Human!” he roared. “I will allow you to kill the Chimaera! However! You must gibbs the Princess to me, that she might bear my mountain troll children!”
“I’ll tell you what, troll,” decided Fredric. “I will roll this die, and if it lands on a 7, I will give you everything you want. However, if it lands on anything else, you have to leave.”
The troll nodded eagerly, and Fredric tossed the die and the die landed on either 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, or 6, but not anything higher.
The troll was outraged.
“What was that!?” he roared. “You deceived me with Math. That’s racist!”
“I know,” replied Fredric coolly, unsheathing his sword. “Now will you leave, or will you fall to my blade?”
“NEITHER!” roared the mountain troll, and he ran towards Fredric, tripped on a root and fell and cracked his skull.
“Looks like you were right,” laughed Fredric, and he blessed the root belonging to his ancient friend, the Tree of Good Humour.
“Tree of Good Humour, you’ve saved my skin yet again.”
The wind whistled through the trees in reply.
“Nonsense, Fredric, I know you. I know you were setting up a punchline and were planning on dispatching him in any way other than with your sword, that you might make the exact same joke.”
“Don’t be so arrogant as to assume you understand my humor, Tree of Good Humour. Sometimes the student does surpass the master.”
With that, Fredric revealed his Secret Joke: a Driver’s License for the very root that had tripped the mountain troll. His name? “Neither”.
The Tree of Good Humour began roaring with delight and Fredric left on the high note and continued up the mountain.
“I’m not far from Chimaera Cave now,” Fredric said to himself.
“Who are you?” demanded Fredric, jumping back.
Fredric was staring at an exact clone of himself, mirroring all of his movements. There was no way past him.
“HAHAHAHA! What will you do now, Knight?!” laughed Wizard-Bengoshi, twirling his Fu Manchu. “My spell will make you cease and desist.”