Skill Forge: Broken Extra Character
Chapter 195: Small Talk
"Scared?" Clarence asked, his tone light and mocking as he fixed Jett with a piercing gaze. His faked smile, however, did nothing to hide his amusement. "I wanted to see what you'd do. We both know you could take her in a fight, even with that skill of hers."
Jett's eyes darkened as his mind involuntarily flashed back to that brutal encounter with Dana: the gut-wrenching punch, the searing pain that blossomed across his torso, and the moment of stunned realization as he barely managed to fend her off. That memory, raw and visceral, reminded him of the stakes and of how much he'd gained in the process.
Clearing his throat, Jett replied in a tone as measured as if he were reciting from a textbook, "[Illusory Chamber] creates an invincible domain around its user. Within that domain, half of an opponent's strength is siphoned off and redirected to the user. Of course to top it all off, any damage she inflicts on her target is doubled but it you need more INT and PER. It would be tough, but not impossible."
Inside, a spark of gratitude was visible on his face. 'I do have to thank her though,' he thought, a private smile forming like the thrill of winning a lottery. 'It almost slipped my mind, but I copied the skill the moment she delivered that gut-wrenching punch. Now I've got [Illusory Chamber] and [Tactical Mirage].'
Clarence's eyes widened in genuine fascination. "I'm surprised you know that much about it," he said, his tone mixing admiration with disbelief.
'Why wouldn't I? I remember taking on an insane boss with that skill and having to replay it over 230 times because the longer you stay in the fight the more likely you are to lose coupled with over 20 random move sets I had to memorize.' Jett thought as he listened to Clarence.
"But then again, you are a Divine Lord." Clarence smirked with pride.
"Please, stop with that already," Jett snapped as he strode over to the shackles that once bound Mystra, he felt sad just looking at it but that wasn't his feelings.
It was a side effect of the sould contract which made it possible to experience Mystra's emotions and at that moment, all she felt was sadness and fear.
Clarence's smile shifted, curiosity edging into his tone. "Is there a reason you still won't admit to that?"
Jett's expression softened, and he replied with a shrug, "No reason." Deep inside, he admitted the truth to himself, 'Deep down, I know I'm the glitch. At the end of the day, I wasn't supposed to be here, I'm just making the best out of an incompetent angel's mistake.'
Clarence's playful demeanor gave way to a more serious tone. "Don't worry, but on a serious note, a soul contract? Do you even know what that entails?"
"I was just fulfilling her one request," Jett said with a soft smile, lightly patting his chest as if to remind himself of the bond he'd formed. "Don't worry, I know what it means to form a bond like that."
Clarence ran a hand through his unruly hair, a wry grin tugging at his lips. "I swear, you really are something else," he murmured, his tone a blend of admiration and exasperation. "You do remind me of him."
"Who? My dad?" Jett asked, his curiosity piqued.
"Yeah," Clarence replied, his smile turning wistful. "You could never tell what he was going to do next, but at the end of the day, he was reliable."
"Like me, huh?" Jett echoed, a small smile breaking through as he considered the comparison, 'I guess we both got that from you.'
"During his time here, he won the festival… time and time again," Clarence said with a proud smirk. "It's good to see you're okay. I can't wait to see how you do."
A sharp snap of Jett's fingers punctuated the moment, as his inner thoughts started racing. 'This crafty snake finally shows his true colors, he mused silently.'
Jett's gaze hardened slightly. "You're not here to check up on your student, are you?"
"Ha… whatever do you mean?" Clarence tried to feign ignorance, though his eyes betrayed a hint of challenge.
Jett leaned forward, his tone turning caustic. "To you, it's not really a school festival, it's a gambling house, and I'm the chip you're using to bet. In the end, the master's the one using the student. I wonder what Valetta would say about that."
A moment of stunned silence followed before Clarence's voice, tinged with defeat, broke through. "Are you blackmailing me?"
"Ha… Whatever do you mean?" Jett replied coolly, his eyes dancing with mischief and barely concealed plans.
"Wha… what do you want?" Clarence asked in defeat, 'This conniving little demon, when did he think to turn this situation against me?'
"Me? Need something? Now why would I?" Jett continued his pretence.
Clarence sighed, shaking his head. "Quit it already, you're already plotting a payback on your dear old master," he said, knowing full well what Jett was hinting at.
"Well, since you're practically begging…" Jett smirked, his tone teasing yet edged with determination. "I'll think of something and tell you when I'm ready."
Clarence's brow twitched ever so slightly, an unspoken question lingering in his eyes, as if he were silently musing, 'What do I feel like I just let loose in my school? His attention was then diverted to the sword in his hand.'
"Say, isn't that Jerry's sword?" Clarence continued, his curiosity piqued as he inspected the blade with a scholar's interest. "I never paid much attention, but I recall him always having that sword with him. It's actually surprising it survived all this time, even though there wasn't anything particularly special about it."
'That's it, I know what to ask for.' Jett's mind raced, suddenly had the perfect angle for his next request.
He'd been mulling over this quietly, and now the opportunity presented itself as clearly as a flash of lightning. With a glow in his eye, he leaned forward and said,
"Hey, gramps, I think I know what to use my last wish on." He flashed a mischievous smile. "You remember how many Divine Lords were stated in the prophecy, don't you?"
Clarence's expression shifted instantly, his tone oscillating between pride and mild irritation. "Yes, 13, but more accurately, it should be 14 based on truth and facts. Not everyone knows that, though. And, for the record, where the hell do you get off calling me gramps?"
Unfazed, Jett pressed on with his plan. "The 14th one, the one no one ever talks about. Can you help me find any traces of him? If he really existed, then surely he must possess an overpowered weapon that no one else can touch, just like the others, right?"
A slow, pleased smile played at the corners of Clarence's mouth as he considered the request. "Hmm, that would be hard, but it's not an impossible ask," he conceded, secretly enjoying the challenge. In his mind, he even thought, 'Plus, even if I don't find anything, he can't hold it against me.'
Jett then leaned back and, with a light chuckle, added, "Also, the festival isn't for another six or seven months, so just calm down, all of you, there's no need to worry." His gaze drifted to where Clarence's eyes had fixed on a set of ancient shackles, remnants of a forgotten past. "Now, send me back to my dorm."
In that moment, Jett couldn't help but relish the fact that his plan was taking shape.
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INT and PER (Intelligence and Perception)