Chương 18: Chapter Eighteen: Legends of the Grassy Gnoll

X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X Hyena Werks, a Proud Orario Company. DanmachiXDnD Nonhuman semi SI X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X Chapter Eighteen: Legends of the Grassy Gnoll X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X The enchantment for Swall's sword was simple in function, but complex in execution.

As I was forbidden from actually modifying the blade, I was forced to bury my etchings under the hilt itself–crammed in tight with no room to spare with some arrays spilling out onto the grip, covered and protected with the Infant Dragon leather bindings I had added. The rest of the work was done on the tang, but all those etchings did was guide the force generated by the grip arrays along the blade. The end result was elegant, efficient… brutal.

Blade in paw, I marshaled my mana and pushed it up from my belly and down into the sword. The enchantment greedily drank up the arcane energy until a low-pitched hum filled my workshop; barely perceptible at the very edge of my hearing. I gave it a few experimental slashes, listening as the hum grew to a consistent buzz as the sword whistled through the air.

Satisfied that the enchantment was holding steady, I reached over and plucked a small rod of steel from a nearby workbench and dropped it over the humming blade. With a roaring screech of tortured metal accompanied by a storm of sparks, the rod exploded apart–the two clean-cut halves spiraling off into the shadows with a trail of smoke billowing from each end. Cutting off the flow of magic, I held the blade back up to eye level to check the edge, and found no faults in the gently steaming alloy.

A self-satisfied grin slid over my muzzle as I set the now reborn Sylvan Silver back down onto my workbench. Reborn as what, exactly? Why, a vibro blade, of course. Perhaps a tad uninspired of me, but the classics are just that for a reason. You just can't beat the simplistic pleasure of a chainsaw–especially one that's vibrating several thousand times a millisecond. Not to mention the extra oomph that comes inherent with this particular one on account of how its enchantments work.

Because I wasn't allowed to actually modify the sword physically, I couldn't attach any external power sources, like I did with Dorumuru's hammers, meaning that all the mana required to activate the enchantment must come from the wielder themselves. Which has its own pros and cons. The most obvious and immediate drawback being that the user themselves must be the battery that powers the enchantment.

So in addition to the normal exhaustion that comes from swinging around a big chunk of steel on a stick, the sword also drains them of their mana–or Mind, as the locals call it. But on the other paw… the user's potential as a battery is directly proportional to their capacity for channeling mana. I did not design any hard limits or failsafes into the enchantment itself. So there is no cap as to how much energy you can pump into it.

If my napkin math is right, then by just using the magic inherent in my own body, I was able to vibrate the sword fast enough to cut steel with ease–so somewhere around thirty or forty kilohertz or so. If I gave this sword to a dedicated mage practiced in the art of mana manipulation, or to a member of a species renowned for their magical capacity, like say–oh I don't know, an elf for instance? Then they could probably part adamantine like it was cheap silk.

Project complete, I slid the blade home into its sheath and stood with a stretch. I was hoping to at least get started on that bow tonight, but it looks like I'm out of time–I needed to get up early tomorrow to train my new wagee.

"Watch the shop for me, Snarf." I grunted as I slammed the garage doors down and locked them in place. Said mechanical monster rose with a bowing stretch from its spot in the corner and let loose an electronic growl that sounded like the dying gasps of a Furby being microwaved before beginning its standard patrol pattern. The clicking of adamantine nails against concrete filled the shop behind me as I stomped up the steps to my apartment, ideas for what shape my employee contract will take filling my head.

X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X Hestia stared down at the massive pile of papers before her, only tearing her eyes away to glance at the monst-… at Max sitting on the other side of the table, calmly sipping a steaming cup of coffee as he watched the sunrise out a nearby window. While she may have already been up in Max's apartment before–she was too preoccupied at the time by the fact that she was, for all intents and purposes, being kicked to the streets to take much notice of Hephie-san's weird friend or his home.

But now that she was here seeing it with fresh eyes, the goddess was struck by how… domestic it was. The insane workshop below matched the–ah, damnit! - what did he call himself again? Whatever- it matched the hyena-man much better than lacquered wooden floors and the lovingly cared-for potted plants in the window. As her eyes roamed the Not-Monster's home, stranger and stranger things became more apparent with every passing second.

A wooden sign above the modest fireplace read ' Live, Laugh, Lunge' in swooping, curly text–and a small rug before the front door had ' Den Sweet Den' stitched onto its face. A small carved placard of a chibi hyena grinning ear-to-ear with a huge bone in its mouth was above the kitchen counter, the words ' Yeenoghu Bless This Mess' circling the carving.

Hestia was staring nonplussed at a throw pillow that read'Stay Calm and Cast Fireball Snuggle' when a rip-roaring noise that she could only describe as a dragon choking on an Adventurer filled the room. Max was looking down at her, paw curled in front of his mouth as if he was covering a cough. Knowing he had her attention, he pointed to the pile of papers with a raised eyebrow.

"I… I don't even know what half of this even is." She finally admitted, waving vaguely in the direction of the mountain of papers before her. Snatching up one of the pages, she thrust it at him while biting back a whine of frustration.

"Like this! Why do I need maternity leave? I'm a goddess for Tenkai's sake! I can't even get pregnant! And this! -" She jabbed another finger down on a different page.

"-Mandatory attendance to fire safety seminars!? You do know I have tended to the Sacred Flame of the Hearth for eons, don't you!? I think I know a thing or two about'fire safety.'" The beast man only grunted, shrugging carelessly.

"I wrote up a universal contract that I can slap down in front of all my future employees. Not all of it is going to apply to you… except for that last one, that's non-negotiable." Max lowered his cup, his glare over its steaming rim shutting her up as she just began to open her mouth.

"You're going to sit there and listen to what I have to say about fire safety. You may have kept that newt spark going up in Tenkai, but you don't know real fire until you've felt the infernal kiss of quadruple-distilled Alchemist Fire cut with petroleum and concentrated dragon spit while compressed under a few hundreds of pounds of pressure detonating in your face. Then, and only then, will you know true fire."

The goddess of the hearth and home had no answer to that, so she simply dragged the page closer and scribbled her name on the dotted line. X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X"Now then, for now all you will be doing is observing the normal day-to-day. How I work, how we conduct business, the usual. Just to get a taste for what we're all about here at Hyena Werks LLC." Hestia cocked her head like a dog, confusion coloring her expression.

"Why do you keep saying 'we', isn't it just you here?"

"Not true, I got Snarf!" The Not-monster pointed to the far-off corner of the room, where the other Not-monster in the building was curled up in a tight ball, its glowing blue eyes laser focused with predatory intent on the goddess intruding in its home. This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. The two of them stood behind the store's counter.

Even as the hyena-man droned on about customer satisfaction and other such and such, Hestia couldn't help but cast furtive glances towards the veritable army camped outside his door. At the front of the line was a Hume-bunny, her face smushed up against the window as she fogged up the glass with her breath–Eyes wide and boring two holes into the side of Max's fuzzy head.

"Anyways. I'm a kinesthetic learner through and through, so I'm going to be teaching that way as well. I think that there is no better way to learn a new skill than just getting up and doing it. So pay close attention, because by the end of the day I expect you to at least take a customer or two!" With a wave of his paw, a ghostly blue mirror image of the appendage materialized out of thin air–with not even a muttered incantation to herald the use of magic.

The paw zoomed across the room towards the door, where it flipped around the 'open' sign and unlocked the door. The paw hadn't even yet begun to fade from existence when the door was nearly blown off its hinges by the Hume-bunny, a huge, hopeful smile on her face and stars in her eyes. She didn't even make it two steps inside when the gnoll beside Hestia let loose a growl that shook the very boards beneath her feet. With one raised claw, Max hissed but two words." Get out."

The Hume-bunny immediately spun on her heels and power walked out past the line of people shuffling in, head bowed in shame. Ohhh… So this is going to be that kind of work environment? Despite herself, Hestia couldn't help but feel a small smile tug at the corner of her lips. Seems like she had been worrying about this for nothing. She's had eons of experience telling pushy assholes to back off, after all. X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X"Thats nonsense!

I could walk ten minutes down the street to Miach's familia and get Low-Grades for a quarter of your price!" The elf standing across the table spat, one of Max's blood-red potions between them. Max snorted dismissively with a toss of his head, already turning towards the next customer in line.

"Then go do that, then. Just hope that you don't regret it when you're bleeding out on the Dungeon's cold, hard floor and that hack's watered down garbage isn't helping no matter how much of it you guzzle back. Next!" The elf rocked back as if struck, but Max had already moved on; snatching the potion from off the counter and sticking it back behind the glass. Before the elf could get another word in edgewise, he was muscled out of the way by a wily raccoon demi-human.

The raccoon placed his palms flat on the counter and leaned forwards theatrically; tail swaying lazily behind him as he made doe-eyes at an obviously bored Max.

"Hey there big guy, Meeko Cooper of the Demeter familia. Part time adventurer, full time farmer. I'm looking for something that can help clear up a field after a harvest, but not something so big that it requires the aid of an animal to move or will damage the ground itself. While I do occasionally grow some more hardy grains and such; My specialty is medicinal herbs and culinary spices, with both of those being extraordinarily delicate … And needy, if you catch my drift! ~ So, think you can help me out?"

"Actually…" The hyena-man muttered to himself, a paw rubbing at his chin in thought.

"-Ya, I think I do have something here that should fit your needs." Max unhooked the messenger bag from his hip and flopped it onto the countertop. He then proceeded to reach both his arms in–and in - and in! Until impossibly, his massive arms had disappeared into the small bag all the way up to his shoulders. The bag itself didn't so much as budge as he rooted around with his tongue poking out. With a muttered " There you are!", he withdrew from the bag, and clutched in his paws was…

Well, Hestia actually had no idea what it was. It bore a passing resemblance to a crossbow. Though, only by the most general of descriptions. It was roughly about the size of a man's arm in length with an extruding handle mated to a trigger below it. That was where the similarities ended, however. Rather than the classical wood and iron furnishing, the device was made entirely of metal that had been painted a sinister matte black.

Instead of tapering off into a traditional butt stock, the thing ended with a strange metal cylinder covered in small pictograms of fire and skulls. On the other end of it, what Hestia assumed to be the 'business end', as it were, was two small tubes, one atop the other. It was there that the first hints as to what the device did lay. One of the tubes was scorched black from fire damage. Max cradled what was clearly a weapon close, a fatherly pride shining in those inky eyes of his as he gazed lovingly upon it.

After a moment of awkward silence during which she and the customer watched Max fawn over whatever it was, he let out a small sigh of sadness and carefully placed it onto the countertop before looking up to stare the raccoon man down.

"Cantharol Sîr, Taur Belthor, Slaugob Eijekljid… Flammenwerfer - This weapon goes by many different names in many different cultures–But for you? You will call it by the direct translation; A Flamethrower." Ignoring the wide-eyed stares surrounding him, Max gave the now named weapon an affectionate pat.

"Truthfully, I had forgotten I made this little beauty a while back to help deal with some treants that were giving a few distant relatives of mine trouble…" he paused, a vaguely haunted look sliding over his expression as he gazed off at nothing in particular.

"I didn't really think about it at the time on how long it takes for living wood to burn… Or how Alchemist Fire sticks to saplings… A long, long pause followed that statement, before the beast-man violently shook his head.

"Long story short… that whole adventure kinda turned into one big nightmare in the end. Those cousins of mine refused to even speak to me after it was all over. Anywho-" He gave it another pat.

"This baby can shoot out a stream of incendiary liquid up to forty meters or so. Perfect for slash and burn type operations. No need to mess around with torches and stuff, just load her up with a tank of Alchemist Fire and let her rip. I can personally guarantee that you could clear a whole field with this thing in under five minutes." The raccoon stared down at the Flamethrower, deep in thought, before finally shrugging.

"Ah, what the Hel. I'll give it a try. How much?" X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X Hours passed, filled with both mind-numbing monotony and interesting moments in equal measure. Most of the time it was just Max kicking people out, and it didn't take long for Hestia to identify the pattern. Whenever someone demanded a purpose-built item, the gnoll was quick to tell them to pound sand. But whenever someone simply asked to solve a problem, he was more than interested to talk it out and offer engineered solutions.

By noon she was already fielding customers. Only sending real customers her bosses way while turning away the annoyances as politely as she could. Towards the end of the day, her cheeks were aching from the faux smile stretched across her face. As the crowd thinned and finally dispersed just as the sun began to arc towards the horizon, the two of them were left alone; cleaning up the store as Max prepared to close for the day.

When they had finally finished mopping away the dust and filth dragged in by the teeming masses, he turned to her just as she finished working out a kink in her back.

"Good work today. How 'bout we go out for dinner to celebrate new beginnings? My treat." Damn - As much as she wanted to go home and crash… she couldn't turn down free food. X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X Max had led her to a crowded tavern on one of the main streets. A place so expensive that she wouldn't have even dared to so much as glance at it just the other day. He didn't seem to have any trouble however plopping down at a table already reserved for him and ordering a veritable feast for them.

Conversation between them was awkward and stilted, with lots or long stretches of twiddling thumbs and nervous coughing– but somehow the topic had drifted back towards that 'Flamethrower' he had sold earlier and the story behind it.

"-It was my cousin who originally reached out to us. He was the current archdruid for some hippy tree-hugging circle holed up in the Wildwood; doing whatever freaky shit those druids get up to when they're all alone. Funny story about him, actually- He almost got blamed for the assassination of King Frederick Justicar when he was killed touring the city of Daelassië. In the end, though, it turned out to be some crazy wizard slinging spells out of a library window or something.

Figures that the second some king gets his head blown off, everyone tries to blame the one gnoll who just happened to be standing nearby. Anyway, back to what I was saying– everyone thinks druids are these noble guardians of nature or whatever, but, Yeenoghu forbid, you deal with some uppity treants for them out of the goodness of your heart. Then it's suddenly all 'How could you have done this?' And 'You'll pay for that, monster!' I mean, talk about ungrateful, am I right?"

The money was good, and the benefits were even better. But, as she listened to this clearly insane creature prattle on about the various war crimes he had committed. Hestia couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe… she might have been a tad too hasty when accepting his offer. X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X Days, then weeks passed in the blink of an eye as the two of them fell into a comfortable rhythm. They worked the front desk together, with Max looming threateningly over Hestia's head to discourage any…

impropriety by the gnoll's customers. It didn't take Orario long to learn the gnoll's rules on what he would and wouldn't entertain. The endless line of slackers and dreamers that hoped Orario's newest craftsman could build them something that would instantly propel them into the life of a High Class adventurer had mostly dried up within the first week or so.

As Hestia grew better and better at differentiating between clients and annoyances, Max began disappearing into the workshop for longer periods–until they reached a point where Hestia could spend hours a day manning the front alone, without ever seeing hide nor hair of him. Only when she went back to fetch him for meetings with clients would she lay eyes on the gnoll. His fur dyed black with soot and a crazed look in his eyes as some new impossibility of magic and engineering took shape beneath his paws.

He could certainly be heard, however. The loud bangs and explosions seemingly never ceased. At all hours of the day, the workshop was a riot of noise that managed to keep her up all night long without fail. It wasn't until she finally worked up the courage to confront him on it, did the gnoll finally seem to realize what he was doing to his poor neighbor and employee. Not that he stopped, of course.

But the very next day that she reported for work, Max presented her with a pair of magically reinforced earmuffs and a machine that generated soothing white noise to fall asleep to. It wasn't until the weather began to take a dip into cooler temperatures as winter crept ever closer upon the city, did Max decide to shake up the new normal Hestia had found herself in.

"-What in the Hells are you wearing?!" X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X Author notes: Kind of another transitionary chapter. I was hoping to speed up the story a tad, but I also wanted to give Hestia's real introduction to the plot a bit more weight to it. Hopefully I can pick things up from here. As always, thanks for reading, it means the world:)