Grease Spell?
[New Main Quest Unlocked]
[Main Quest Name: Paladin Trial]
[Very good. Now that you have a strong physique, you can start considering a class change.
Come—show me your virtues and see whether you have the potential to become a Paladin.
Quest Objective: Save a lost lamb, 0/1
Quest Reward: +5 Constitution, 1 random low-level spell]
Before he even had time to examine the new quest closely, the Strength from the previous reward had already been granted.
[Strength 7 → Strength 12! (Absolute muscle monster! Muscle monster!!!)]
A gentle radiance seemed to flow briefly around his body before quickly fading. Allen felt as if, since even before his transmigration—from his previous life—he had never experienced such overwhelming, inexhaustible power.
Power! Is this what power feels like?!
Where are the monsters? I can take on ten!!!
"Boss Farley! Where are you?!"
However, the pitch-black inn was silent. There was no response from Farley.
Lightning flashed, briefly illuminating the first floor of the inn. In that pale light, Allen vaguely saw what seemed to be a figure in the hallway.
He hurried to take advantage of the fading lightning, locking onto the position of an oil lamp. Once darkness fell again, he fumbled his way over and picked it up.
Before he could figure out how to relight it, the lamp ignited on its own.
Holding the lamp in one hand and his sword in the other, his heart pounding wildly, Allen slowly walked toward the hallway.
Reaching the corridor, he looked up. Under the dim glow of the oil lamp, he could just make out a figure lying on the stairs above—and on top of that figure was a smaller one, crouched like a beast, seemingly gnawing on something.
The one lying there was Boss Farley!
Allen recognized his shoes. Without hesitation, he raised his short sword and charged forward in silence.
Just as Allen was about to stab the small figure from behind, the "unconscious" Farley suddenly sat upright. The small figure on top of him let out a soft, startled squeal and sprang away—smacking straight into Allen's face.
Allen was knocked to the ground. Struggling to open his eyes, all he could see was white fabric. Then he felt the thing on his face stand up—two small feet in white lace stockings stepped right onto his face.
Above that… a small face, bright blue eyes, and sky-blue hair.
"Ah! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to!"
Stella quickly jumped off Allen's face and instantly dropped to the ground in apology.
Only then did Allen see clearly—the small figure was actually a female gnome, one of Azeroth's fantasy races.
"Who are you? What were you just doing on Mr. Farley?"
Still lying flat on the ground, Stella hurriedly raised her head to explain, "Don't kill me! My name is Stella—I'm staying at the Lion's Pride Inn. Just now I was using this… a goblin jumper cables device, to save Mr. Farley's life!"
As she spoke, she held up a small device with both hands. Only then did Allen clearly see her face—innocent, delicate, and pitiful.
"You're a gnome—how do you know how to use goblin engineering tech like a goblin jumper device?!"
Gnomes and goblins were completely different races, and gnomish engineering and goblin engineering were practically incompatible.
"Young Lord Prestor, please spare her! Stella really is a long-term guest here!"
Farley, still gasping for breath, scrambled up after sensing Allen's hostility and spoke up to testify. "She's been staying here for a week already. It's a bit strange for a gnome to be into goblin tech, sure—but she hasn't done anything wrong…"
He paused slightly.
"…aside from not paying rent."
Hearing this, Stella lowered her little blue-haired head again, her twin ponytails swaying as if expressing apology.
"More importantly, Mr. Farley, are you alright? What just happened?"
"Just now… I saw a shadow. I was about to fire my gun, when a ferocious ghost pounced right onto my face… Then when I woke up, I saw the two of you."
At this, Stella finally got up from the ground. Her eyes lit up with excitement as she looked at Farley, practically sparkling.
"Mr. Farley, so the Lion's Pride Inn really is haunted? In that case… can my room fee be waived?"
Farley rubbed his forehead helplessly. "Stella, just because the place is haunted doesn't mean you get to eat and stay for free… Forget it. Since you just saved my life, I'll clear your tab."
Stella's expression shifted from eager anticipation, to disappointment, then instantly to starry-eyed delight.
"Really, Mr. Farley? You're the best!"
"Hold on—this isn't the time for that, is it? If there really is a ghost here, how are we supposed to survive?"
Allen cut in at the worst possible moment, interrupting Stella's cutesy act. His legendary life as Allen Prestor had just begun—there was no way he was dying here in Goldshire, especially not in the Lion's Pride Inn.
"Ayy!!!"
A shriek suddenly echoed from upstairs.
The three exchanged glances. Stella abruptly raised her hand.
"I'll take point!"
Then she pulled out two spherical objects and charged up the stairs yelling wildly.
Allen hurried after her. "Careful! It's dangerous!"
Farley was even more alarmed. "Stella! You are not allowed to use goblin grenades here!"
Rushing to the second floor, Stella immediately saw a hideous ghost. Allen, right behind her, saw it too—a pale, eerie female spirit, just like the "Banshee" units in the game.
Stella hesitated for a moment upon hearing Farley forbid the grenades. Then her foot slipped—she fell flat onto the ground.
The banshee shrieked and lunged toward Stella.
Farley fired immediately. Sparks flew—but the bullet passed straight through the ghost's translucent body.
In that split-second moment, Allen had no time to think about what made sense. Instinctively, he used the only offensive spell he currently knew.
Grease Spell!
Raising his sword, Allen quickly chanted an incantation that felt as if it had been etched into his mind from birth.
"Visk'lun thraz'ak!"
In the next instant, a large mass of lard rained down from above, splattering across the second-floor corridor.
[Saving Throw: 1 — Critical Failure]
[Although you have no legs and no physical body, the greasy floor nauseates you, causing your entire being to convulse and your magnetic field to become unstable—resulting in an unfortunate slip.]
Right before everyone's eyes, the banshee—like it was performing mime—slipped mid-charge and crashed face-first onto the ground.
Farley was dumbfounded. This works too? Ghosts can slip?! What kind of spell is this?!
Allen rushed forward to help Stella up—
Thud!
Allen slipped and fell as well.
Because the grease had already spread.
Farley didn't notice carefully. He stepped forward, intending to pull the two up and make a run for it—
Thud!
Farley slipped too.