Carrotastic Cake – Legendary
📜 Description
This cake was prepared by the Mad Hare with everything bad—and then some. The taste? It's not good, not appetizing, neither hot nor cold... it's simply strange, almost indescribable. Don't eat it in moderation—and do so at your own risk, for the cake has the nasty habit of biting back when you least expect it. Some say the cake gets hungrier the more you ignore it.
💥 Properties
• You grow larger
The first description alone was enough to throw everyone off. Nothing made sense—and that seemed intentional. Varnak raised the parchment with a furrowed brow, eyes sparkling with childlike curiosity. At first glance, he seemed excited to be holding a legendary item, but his expression quickly shifted to something between skepticism and disgust.
— What the hell is this? — he muttered, staring at the text, trying to decipher some purpose beyond sheer madness.
The item seemed to bring more harm than good. His eyes met mine, searching for an explanation I couldn't give. I just shrugged with the best sarcastic smile I could muster, as if to say, "Good luck." Varnak snorted loudly, almost growling, and dropped the parchment as if it were contagious.
Wonderbite Carrot – Legendary
📜 Description
The main delicacy used by the Mad Hare? A little nibble here, another there, one more over there... and if anything's left, it becomes an ingredient. Simple as that. Just be careful not to end up being the next one to take a bite.
💥 Properties
• You grow less
Confusion didn't take long to spread through the group. It wasn't just the first item; each new description seemed worse, or at least more bizarre. Despite all of them being classified as legendary, they were packed with such grotesque contradictions that they felt like the product of a collective delirium.
It was as if some lunatic had written the manual and an even crazier one had reviewed it, approving every word with glee.
I watched it all while holding back laughter, trying not to burst into giggles as chaos unfolded. Siman was tugging at his own beard, trying to make sense of the magical effects of the items.
Finally, I sighed and decided to step in.
— Alright, everyone. Before you run off to kill the Mad Hare, let me tell you what I think each of these items does. I can't guarantee I'm right, but... well, we're dealing with a cake that bites back, so taking risks is basically routine.
At last, I noticed the atmosphere starting to calm down. The whispers turned into tense murmurs, and the group's eyes turned to me—some with expectation, others with suspicion.
— Very well... — I took a deep breath. — The first two items you read actually serve to increase the size of whoever consumes them. I believe this also amplifies the user's raw power. Unfortunately, they're single-use.
Several faces frowned. The boost in power sounded promising, but the unstable nature of the items kept everyone on edge.
All the items, in some way, were connected to the stories my mother used to read to me when I was a child. Of course, over time, it all started to seem kind of silly... but that didn't mean I'd forgotten. On the contrary—now it all made a bizarre sort of sense.
I picked up the next item in my hands, a candy wrapped in purple ribbons, with a wide grin printed on the paper.
— The Cheshire Wrap — I announced. — I'm almost certain it's an artifact linked to that damned cat. If my memory serves, it should allow the user to become invisible... or something close to it. But magical invisibility rarely comes without strings attached.
Vrigs let out a grunt and jotted something down in his grimoire. Malaca crossed her arms, thoughtful.
— And what about the teapot and the golden vial? — she asked.
— The Mad Hatter's Teapot and the Azure & Gold Draught — I continued — have effects opposite to the others: they shrink the target, which, in practice, weakens the creature. I believe that if we manage to throw this liquid on our enemy, we can level the playing field.
There was a heavy silence after I finished speaking. It was a bold hypothesis. Perhaps too bold.
— My guess — I added firmly — is that the item might cut the enemy's power in half, or even more. But if it at least reduces their strength, that'll already be something significant.
I was trying to follow the logic of the ability used by the brunette in the book I'd read: to create a skill that combined a buff and a debuff at the same time. And as eccentric and experimental as my plan was, something inside me told me I'd figured it out.
The only piece still bothering me was... the glove.
I didn't want Siman to examine it. Not yet. Something about it caused me a deep, unsettling feeling. Maybe it was just too rare an artifact. Or maybe it was pure, simple personal attachment. We were still inside a dungeon, after all — and even if we killed the enemy, there was no guarantee they'd let me keep the item. Varnak's plan had already gone down the drain, and that changed everything.
— Very well, boy — said Varnak, standing up. — My men will use the buff items. The hired contractors will be responsible for contaminating the enemy with the reducers.
— Hold on... — I interrupted, confused. — Wouldn't it make more sense for each group to use one, to keep things balanced?
And, as expected... the argument started again.
Malaca was the first to protest:
— How convenient to let all the buffs go to your side. We have no guarantee you'll carry out the mission without screwing us over once we destroy that creature. I don't think it's wise to allow the cake, the carrot, and the candy to all be split among your group alone and not ours.
The room turned into a verbal battlefield. Shouts, accusations, and arguments flew through the air like arrows.
Siman, always analytical, clarified a detail that ramped up the tension even more:
— The Carrotastic Cake... can only be consumed by two people. If anyone else tries, the cake attacks.
— Attacks how?! — someone shouted from the back.
— With teeth. — Siman replied flatly.
Silence.
The carrot and the candy seemed safer compared to the cake, but no one wanted to risk the Cheshire Wrap. After all, the duration of the invisibility was unknown. It could last seconds... or forever. In a life-or-death situation, going invisible would be useful. But vanishing forever? That would be more curse than blessing.
It took several long hours of deliberation, veiled threats, and an improvised vote (complete with accusations of cheating) before the names of the users were finally decided.
The cake was split between Bernard and Malaca, who would take the front line. Malaca, despite being a berserk, had rudimentary magical skills — enough to resist minor spells and endure far more than an ordinary warrior. Bernard, on the other hand, was our true tank, a living wall, used to taking hits that could bring down fortresses.
Unfortunately, that meant they'd have to give up the five uses of the "Timepiece," since my ability didn't allow stacking effects. Without it, the margin for error became practically nonexistent. We'd have to end the fight quickly, or we'd be doomed to face Marcoriel without any tricks left — and that wasn't the only problem.
— Unfortunately... — I began, taking a deep breath. — As soon as you consume these artifacts, you'll have to get out of the cave immediately. If not... well, you won't be leaving at all.
Malaca raised an eyebrow.
— What do you mean by that?
I cleared my throat, looking away.
— When I said you'd grow... I didn't mention just how literal that might be. There's a fair chance you'll become... giants. And the exit of this cave won't magically widen to accommodate your new sizes.
The silence that followed was almost tangible. Bernard let out a heavy sigh and cracked his neck.
— So we'll have to fight while we're growing. — he concluded, with a disconcerting casualness. — Great. Another absurd story to tell later.
— If there's a later — Malaca muttered, but her crooked smile didn't hide the adrenaline already rushing through her veins.
Varnak, in his usual eccentric and arrogant way, named the assault "Operation Varnak," which surprised absolutely no one. Even so, no one protested — it was easier to save energy preparing than arguing with the inflated ego of our financier.
After more arguments and subtle wagers, Isbel, the shadowy rogue, ended up agreeing to take the Cheshire Wrap.
— Makes sense — said Malaca, giving the rogue's thin shoulder a pat. — No one better to go invisible than someone who already lives in the shadows.
The plan was simple in theory: Isbel would use her invisibility to get close and throw the entire teapot, with the tea, directly at our enemy. I made it very clear that, if possible, the ideal would be to pour the liquid into the monster's mouth, trying to hit it internally — but we had all seen his helmet.
— Do you think that thing even has a mouth? — asked Isbel, frowning.
— It must — I said, trying to convince myself more than them. — But even if it doesn't, throwing the contents over its body should have some effect. It has to.
Finally, Varnak stood, his face lit with an almost boyish excitement.
— Very well, let's get into position before consuming the items. At sunrise tomorrow, we begin Varnak's Assault!
A chorus of assent echoed through the cave. The air seemed to vibrate with electric tension, the smell of blade oil and sweat mixing with the damp dust of the walls.
Everyone had their roles. Everyone knew that after tonight, there might not be another chance.
I looked at the group — Bernard adjusting his armor, Malaca sharpening her serrated blade, Isbel checking every poisoned dart she carried. And I felt something twist inside me. Fear? Anxiety? Or perhaps a strange anticipation?
Unfortunately, as prepared as we were, I would still be practically useless in the fight. As Malaca herself made sure to remind me that same night:
— A buffer just buffs, kid. Doesn't fight. Not under any circumstances.
The blunt way she said it was almost comforting. At least someone here wasn't deluding themselves.
Meanwhile, I kept trying to understand the item in my hand. It was obvious Siman was absurdly curious about the peculiar glove that had been tossed to us by that insane rabbit.
The glove was surprisingly pleasant to the touch, warm, almost pulsing against my skin. The strangest thing was how perfectly it fit my hand — it felt like I wasn't wearing anything at all.
The miserable rabbit hadn't bothered to throw us a pair — just a single glove, a clear mockery of fate. Still, I found no reason to take it off.
Siman approached, almost panting with excitement, eyes gleaming.
— Boy, are you sure you don't want me to analyze that glove for you? Maybe we could find a more strategic use for it. Who knows if someone more... skilled might get better use out of it tomorrow.
— What exactly do you mean by "more skilled"? — I growled, already feeling my patience slipping.
It was Malaca who immediately stepped in, raising an arm in front of me as if to shield me from an invisible arrow.
— We need to win this fight no matter the cost, kid. Don't you think it's wise to use every weapon we have?
— I think he's already given us plenty — Malaca shot back, glaring at Siman with icy contempt. — A hell of a lot more than you. From what I gathered, you didn't even know what any of these items did until he opened his mouth.
The atmosphere soured in an instant. The air grew thick, heavy with unspoken tension, and for a second I feared Malaca would lunge at the mage right then and there.
But then Varnak stepped in, moving toward Siman with the calm smile of someone who could control any room. He placed a firm hand on the mage's shoulder.
— Siman, relax. I think we're more than prepared for tomorrow. — Then he turned to Malaca, his tone dry, almost paternal. — Lady Malaca... you ought to be an example to everyone here. In any case. We're counting on you.
He didn't get far before Malaca let loose a string of curses that echoed through the damp cave walls, aimed squarely at Varnak's broad back.
She then turned to me, exhaling slowly, as if keeping her rage in check consumed every fiber of her being.