The Quest For A Buffed Body

Stepping outside into the biting cold, Lucifer was greeted by the sight of direwolves circling the edges of the village. These weren't the wolves of bedtime stories; they were massive beasts, their sizes dwarfing those of regular wolves, with fur as dark as the night and eyes glowing with a predatory hunger. Each one looked more like a small horse than a wolf, their muscular frames rippling beneath thick, shadowy coats as they snarled at the villagers.

The village itself was thrown into a frenzy, the air filled with panicked shouts and cries for help. 

"Militia! To arms!" echoed through the streets as men and women scrambled to gather whatever weapons they could find, from pitchforks to rusty swords, their faces etched with fear and determination.

"Look at this sorry state," he said, shaking his head in disbelief. "A few oversized pups throw the whole village into panic. What a fucking spectacle."

Lucifer, standing amidst the chaos, couldn't help but let out a laugh, the absurdity of the situation striking him as both tragic and hilarious. The so-called militia was a ragtag assembly of villagers, donned in patchwork armor that looked more like repurposed farm clothes and wielding an assortment of makeshift weapons—pitchforks, scythes, and even a few kitchen knives. Their faces were etched with fear, a stark contrast to the ferocity of the wolves that threatened them.

One of them, a young man holding what appeared to be a pitchfork, turned to an older villager with a kitchen cleaver in hand. "Are we really going to fight those things?" he asked, his voice quivering.

The older man, his face pale under the moonlight, replied with a grimace, "Got no choice, do we? It's fight or become their dinner."

Lucifer, observing the chaotic preparations, scoffed at the display. "You'd be better off throwing your kitchen knives at them from a distance. Might actually stand a chance that way," he called out, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

The absurdity of the situation, the villagers' pitiful attempts to mount a defense against the direwolves, only served to amuse him further. While part of him relished the thought of letting the village fend for itself, another, more calculating side saw an opportunity. 

"Saving the day from a pack of furry nightmares might just win me some of those precious Heroic Points," he mused, his gaze fixed on the dire wolves as they inched closer, their growls a promise of violence to come.

Unlike the typical hero of legend who might charge headfirst into battle, relying on sheer luck and the hope of a miraculous save, Lucifer operated differently. He was no hero; his consideration to intervene wasn't driven by a sense of duty or compassion but by the allure of Heroic Points. The villagers' plight was merely a means to an end, a way to enhance his power for his own purposes.

As Brianna stepped into the chaos, her determination clear, she began directing the villagers, her voice cutting through their panic. "This way! Keep together and move towards the shelter!" she commanded, her presence bringing a semblance of order to the frightened villagers.

It was then that Lucifer heard the familiar chime in his mind, signaling a new quest:

[Quest Initiated: Save the Village from the Direwolf Attack] 

[Reward for Completion: Physical Enhancement and 2000 Heroic Points.]

Lucifer couldn't help but smirk at the quest's timing. "Looks like it's showtime," he mused. 

Glancing down at his current form, he couldn't deny the appeal of the reward. 

"This scrawny body could use some buffing up. Wouldn't hurt to look a bit more intimidating," he admitted, the prospect of physical enhancement appealing to his vanity and strategic sense alike.

With a renewed sense of purpose, not born of altruism but of self-serving ambition, Lucifer prepared to face the direwolves. His plan wasn't to dive into the fray blindly but to use his cunning and newly acquired Blink ability to outmaneuver the beasts, ensuring his victory and, by extension, the safety of the villagers.

"Alright, let's save these pathetic villagers and get me those points," Lucifer declared, stepping forward with a confidence that belied his true motivations. 

"Who knows, maybe playing the hero won't be so bad after all, especially with the perks that come with it."

But Lucifer very well knew the capabilities and limits of his current form. Glancing down at the body he now inhabited, he couldn't help but curse Archer for the less-than-ideal physique he was stuck with. 

"Look at this," he grumbled, observing his reflection with a critical eye. 

"Chest flatter than a damned board, biceps that wouldn't intimidate a child, legs as thin as twigs, and forearms that look like they've never seen a day's work. Fucking fantastic."

With a physique that was far from what he was accustomed to, Lucifer knew brute strength wasn't his to wield in this encounter. His brain would have to make up for what his body lacked. Scanning the village for anything that could be used to his advantage, his gaze landed on a sack full of dried chili powder in a hut that served as the village's makeshift storage.

The village, in its sorry state due to the harsh winter, had little left in their storage—dried chilies, chili powder which the villagers mixed with water or some rice to give their meager meals a semblance of flavor, and some other weeds and grasses that Lucifer thought he wouldn't even feed to a dog.

A plan began to form in his mind as he eyed the chili powder. "If I can't take them down with strength, I'll just have to mess with their senses," he mused, a devilish grin spreading across his face. 

"Lead the direwolves outside the village, use this chili powder to throw them off, then pick them off one by one using Blink. Not my usual style, but it'll have to do."

Then, Lucifer cracked his neck, the sound echoing in the silent, snow-covered village. He was ready to put his plan into action, relying on cunning and strategy rather than force. 

"Let's see how these furry bastards like a taste of their own medicine," he muttered, preparing to Blink toward the storage area to execute his plan. 

"Time to spice things up a bit."

On the other hand, Brianna was herding the villagers towards safety, when a movement caught her eye—a figure vanishing and then reappearing near the storage area. It was Lucifer, his sudden disappearance and subsequent appearance bewildering her. 

"How did he...?" she whispered to herself, her confusion turning to fascination.

Lucifer, seemingly oblivious to Brianna's shocked gaze, found a piece of cloth nearby and dipped it into the chili powder, a mischievous glint in his eye. He began stuffing his pockets with chili powder

"Let's just hope this shit doesn't seep through the fabric and hurt my little brother. That'd be a hell of an itch to explain." he mumbled.

With a grin, he used Blink again, this time to close the distance between himself and the direwolves. He picked up a pebble, lobbed it at the beasts, and taunted them with a laugh. 

"Come on, you furry fucks! Is that all you've got? I've seen scarier things in a puppy mill!"

The direwolves, seemingly incensed by his words and the pebble's impact, turned their menacing gazes toward him. Understanding his intention or not, they accepted the challenge, their snarls growing louder as they prepared to give chase.

Lucifer turned on his heel, shouting over his shoulder, "That's right, follow the leader, you dumb beasts!" 

With that, he dashed towards the village outskirts, leading the direwolves away from the villagers and into the open where he planned to use the chili powder to his advantage.