New Power & Feast

Gore swung his blade and it felt far lighter to him. It felt like a feather. The blade swung faster and faster in circles. It went so fast that a tornado formed around him. And he had turned the blade to such an angle that he actually began to lift off the ground like a fatass helicopter.

When Gore stopped swinging, he nodded. "I guess I still don't know how to use Aura, but I've gotten a lot stronger!"

He walked back towards the castle without even trying to use the spells he had learned. Those spells were falling off the edge of his memory, which had the capacity of a goldfish.

As Gore walked back up to the gate, the men-at-arms, who were unlucky enough to have to guard during the feast, recognized him and let him in.

Gore walked to the great hall where all the bodies and blood had been cleaned up. The whole room was covered with tables and chairs. Every table was filled with food. It was like the larder of the castle had been emptied for the feast.

On the far side of the room, there were large barrels of alcohol, and a lot of people were already drunk. They were stumbling around stupidly. Gore frowned at the men in their stupors, and he thought about how easy it would be to kill them.

Gore eventually found Dane and Alfred sitting at a table with some of the other knights. He walked up to the table and pulled up a chair. He barely fit in the chair which was supposed to accommodate fatasses. As he sat down, it creaked under his weight.

Alfred turned around to Gore. "Gore, Gore, Goreee… You really have gotten a bit overweight haven'tcha?"

Gore sighed. "Alcohol turns smart people stupid and all for what? Some fun? Is it really that fun?"

Alfred blinked and then smiled. "Oh, hey Gore, I didn't see you there! Did you consume the stones? No, you probably waited huh!"

Gore sniffed. "I did consume them, and I became stronger."

Alfred looked like he was about to say something, but then his eyes rolled into the back of his skull, and he toppled from his chair to the hard granite floor like a limp doll.

One of the knights laughed. "Look at him! Alfred had about half a barrel before lights out!"

The knight turned to Gore. "I bet that you couldn't do that!"

Gore growled at the man as he clenched his fist and put directly in the man's face. "I don't drink. It would ruin my physique."

To the side, Dane was sipping on some wine. He turned to Gore. "What did you do at home for fun then... before your father kicked you out, I mean?"

Gore sighed and his mind wandered back for a moment. "I used to train with weights every single day. I used to spar with my brothers anytime they would. If my brothers were not available, I sparred with the house knights. Without Aura, I was one of the best fighters in my household."

His face turned dark. "But even then, it was not enough…"

Dane sniffed between sips of wine. "You said you consumed the two stones. Do you have Aura now?"

Gore blinked. "Well, I've gotten a whole lot stronger. There was also a strange little green window that had a bunch of words written on it… Something about stats, skills, Ascendant equipment… Oh it said my sword could turn into a shield or ring… Let me see if I can do that."

Dane watched Gore as he concentrated on his enormous sword that he had unsheathed. The blade glowed slightly green and then it morphed down to the small size of a ring in his hand. 

Gore stumbled backwards in pure surprise. "Oh, I did it!"

Gore tossed the ring in the air and then slammed it hard against the oaken table. Drinks spilled and the ring bit deep into the hard wood table. 

Dane sighed and shook his head as his wine spilled into his lap. "Gore, you're good at fighting, sure, but do you ever think?"

Gore turned around. "My tutors cried every time they had to teach me."

Gore said that with a grin, as if it was something to be proud of.

Dane shook his head and bent down to pick Alfred off the floor. "I'm going to sleep. We can talk in the morning, Gore."

Gore sniffed at the knights that looked at him in annoyance. Gore walked away from the ruined table after grabbing the ring and slipping it onto his finger. 

Gore walked over to another table that was filled with men-at-arms. They were all talking about women. "Have you seen the Viscount's daughter, she's the most beautiful woman I have ever seen."

"Jerry, that's just because she had some gold trinkets in her hair before Alfred pulled them out…"

"It's too bad they locked up the women in cells for the night…"

The men turned around as Gore towered over them. Most of the men were too scared to say anything as they looked Gore in his large eyes, but one man they had called Jerry was far more drunk than the others and so he threw all caution out the window. 

"Hey Gore! You really helped us up on that wall! Come join us!"

Gore pulled up another enormous chair which also creaked as he sat down in it. 

Jerry moved his head a little closer to Gore from across the table. "So, we were just talking about women. As a giant, do you find any humans attractive?"

Gore frowned in distaste. "Never. They are too small in every way. Even if the woman could give me a child, I would not want a short half-breed as my son. The poor bastard would be criticized by every Giant and even more dishonor would be poured upon my father's head. I WOULD NEVER!!!"

Jerry and the other men-at-arms drew their heads back a bit. "Okay, so back at home, were there any women that you loved?"

Gore's eyes looked dreamy for a moment before he spoke. "Her name was Bell. She was two feet taller than me with the most beautiful figure a man could ever hope to behold. Her voice was like silk, and her sword skills were nearly on par with mine. BUT! SHE HATES ME!!!"

By the end, his teeth audibly ground together as anger rose from the very pit of his soul. Mana was roused and within his soul he imagined burning the world. 

Spells each have a feeling or memory attached to them, and so when he thought of burning the world, a large orange fireball jetted out from his ring towards the wall. 

BOOOM. As the fireball slammed against the wall, it burned through several feet of granite and turned it to molten lava that began to fall and drip towards the floor.

Unfortunately for everyone in the room, the lava fell on the table with all of the alcohol. The barrels were burned through quickly and the liquid spilled on the floor or was vaporized. 

Amidst the great feast room, there was a collective cry of horror at the doom of the alcohol. The men-at-arms and Knights all wished that Gore's fireball had hit a man rather than the alcohol. 

Jerry turned to Gore with a single tear dripping down from his eyelids. "Not the fucking alcohol…"

People were so angry at Gore that he walked outside the hall and fell asleep in the dirt outside the castle by the gate.