Overpowered Wizard-Chapter B4 Ch41: Leaving Wonderland

“Huh, I don’t look too old for forty-eight,” Foodie said in front of the mirror.

Swaying her head from side to side, she turned around to look at her body from the back, her long and wild purple mane swishing about, ears waving. She hadn’t grown any taller, and her scars had faded somewhat, leaving her looking healthy and athletic and tough. She’d even regained more of her womanly assets, so it was very hard to mistake her for a male. She wasn’t sure if she was pretty for a goblin, but at least she was striking and unforgettable.

To be on the safe side and assuage her vanity, she snapped her fingers and transmuted the walls of the spare chamber into mirrors to examine herself from all angles. Finger snapping was a bad habit, and Mother would’ve scolded her for it, but Foodie’s Mysticism was severely low for a half-caster. Habits helped her focus and cast faster.

After dialing around the light coming from the illumination orb in the middle of the chamber, Foodie examined herself further before she was finally satisfied.

“Alright, here it goes. I’m finally leaving Wonderland.”

Ignoring the prickly sensations inside her chest, Foodie snapped her fingers again and clad herself in cloth, leathers, and boots, all enchanted to the lowest grade of Eternal Quality. She looked like what her father called a ‘Badass Biker Goth.’ She liked how it sounded.

The dark aesthetics went well with her green skin and pale scars. She even painted her lips and claws black now. She only cared because any new hobby, even fashion, helped deal with worldly boredom during her free time. Now the time to leave her family’s haven and reconnect with the larger universe had arrived, and Foodie wanted to look ready even if she didn’t feel ready.

It was kind of nerve-racking to think about.

“Hey, wait.” She stopped at the edge of the mirror chamber before slowly turning around. A wide, toothy smile crossed her face. “I … don’t need y’all anymore.”

She snapped her fingers again and filled the chamber with simple aura bombs and a few fast-burning alchemical blends with cooking grease as the main component. The chamber came apart in a roaring explosion that tore down the celestial enchantments like rocks through brittle glass. Foodie laughed, giving in her to her goblin mania, as she dashed around and destroyed her own home.

This one had been the longest she’d ever stayed in ever since leaving Castle Grimrock. She’d made it herself ten years ago. She already had everything she needed in one of her pocket dimensions. After placing down one big bomb that could really leave an impression, she teleported out.

“You just can’t help it, can’t you?” Father. Alpha. Zarian Sainte-Darkrun. He was sitting on a branch that Foodie had landed on. He still looked the same from thirty years ago, with one arm missing and a lion tail swaying lazily behind him, but Foodie knew he’d changed plenty enough.

A few miles away, her old place went kablooey, hurling tons of rock, wood, and dirt upward into the misty clouds and sky branches. It came raining down with a soft pitter-patter of rain.

“It’s fun,” Foodie said.

“Have fun telling your mother about your finger snapping.” He flashed her a devilish smile.

Foodie wanted to argue, but a shiver crawling along her spine stopped her.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to finger snap? It’s going to become an unconscious habit and cost you!” Mother. The Genocider. Empress Ruvaria.

The scarier parent of the two. She teleported behind Foodie and flicked the back of the goblin’s ear before she could flee. When the elf hovered around to glare eye to eye with her, it was easy to see how much Ruvaria had changed outwardly while the Darkruns had seemed more ageless.

Granted, Ruvaria hadn’t aged either. She’d blossomed. It must’ve been the food. Or the constant love-making with Father. Probably both.

She was a few inches taller and far more filled out, no longer petite, more like a shapely woman in all the ways that counted. Maybe she would’ve filled out further if she and Father had children, but they were still waiting for some reason.

Foodie had done all she could to encourage them. It was weird being an only goblin child in her forties. It wasn’t proper. Who was she supposed to bully around without a gaggle of idiot siblings?

“You guys ready?” Foodie asked, moving on quickly, ignoring the rumbling destruction left in her wake.

Father and Mother shared a glance with multiple meanings. It was easy to translate after all these years, but Foodie gave them a moment. She was better at hiding her nervousness, so she didn’t blame her parents for showing a bit of lameness.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

“Yeah, we are. It’s just been a while for me,” Zarian said openly. “I’ve been living here longer than I’ve been alive outside of here. But to everyone else, it would’ve only been a few days and…”

Foodie nodded. It was going to be a trip to see everyone again.

“It felt short to me. I’ve felt nothing but bliss here. I don’t want it to end.” Ruvaria smiled wanly. “But we are out of time, and the show must go on. Let’s meet in New Florida when you two are done.”

Foodie saw the naked angst and terror in Mother’s eyes and inwardly smirked. Foodie was aware of Ruvaria’s issues and how she was finally going to face them, her family.

They all had their goals. Foodie’s goal was the most time sensitive.

Before they finally departed, Zarian crashed into her with a one-arm hug. Ruvaria came from the other side to hug her as well. Once the lion tail curled around all three of them, it was a complete embrace, and Foodie allowed herself to feel the love instead of being moody.

Thirty years of having the best parents a goblin could ask for was more than anyone could hope for. Like any good natured hypocrite, Foodie figured it was good that there was nobody else but them, giving her all the attention and love she could crave. It also helped that her parents were gods pretending to be mortals and effectively uplifted Foodie.

Well, she was a goddess too, ultra at that, her soul having crossed into true apotheosis five years ago. But she still felt small compared to Zarian and less capable compared to Ruvaria.

The happy embrace ended, and the two godly mages brought an end to the mini pocket world. Foodie watched it unravel and fade, left to be consumed by the void beyond, like a quiet and quick apocalypse. They could always make a better one later. Foodie could even help as long as it was one simple part of the world creation.

Father and Mother left. They weren’t needed any longer in Jack’s dungeon. With a flick of her arm and a defiant finger snap, Foodie summoned one of her special cleavers. It wasn’t that large. Only two and a half feet long from hilt to tip. Against the monsters here, it might as well be a toothpick if size was anything to go off alone.

Obviously, it was far above anything the monsters could appreciate.

Eternal enchantments activated, runes flashed bright blue on the blade. Scintillating aura particles gathered into the cleaver like water chugged down a pipe before going straight up Foodie’s hand. With a sharp and pleasurable breath, the Level 182 Abomination Cook felt invigorated as she overcharged herself with aura, keeping most of it in the core of her body with a clenched gut.

The dungeon rumbled angrily.

Jack wasn’t pleased.

“I don’t give a fuck, asshole,” Foodie grouched. Father’s way of speaking had rubbed off on her after enough exposure.

The wards were done. The white forest and architecture looked ghoulish and weird to her after years in the merry rain forest. There was too much silence. Too much stillness. Then, an affront to Gilbert’s God appeared from around some rubble, half-rolling, half-crawling, like an eldritch knock off. The angelic monster broke through a wall of fog and revealed itself. Foodie knew its type.

Scornful Assaulter, a cherub monster. When Foodie had first entered the Supernova Hater Dungeon, that creature had been the bane of her existence during the beginning of her crawl. It wasn’t the strongest, but it was the most persistent. It had always tried to catch her when she was her most vulnerable.

It was a ball of flesh and plucked wings with a dozen multi-jointed arms reaching out with talon-tipped fingers. It had given her nightmares and made her shake with worry while hiding from them during her weakest moments. That was over thirty years ago. Things had changed by leaps and bounds since then.

The creature lunged at her with an explosive launch that shook the dungeon earth. Foodie stood defiantly until the last split second. Then she took one step forward, flicked out a simple jab, and the entire cherub exploded so violently its parts scattered for miles. None of the blood touched her except for a speck on the knuckles of her free hand.

“Weak,” Foodie muttered. “Don’t make this boring, Jack-o-boy. I was actually feeling nervous before I came back out.”

She was strolling toward the end until she realized she was short on time. Cursing under her breath, Foodie moved with a hustle even though that made her look uncool. What was the point of dressing up as a big biker goth goblin if she wasn’t looking cool?

She wasn’t going to rush though. She wasn’t a fool. Far from it now. But when more cherub monsters rolled from behind more blocky ruins and clouds of fog, Foodie leaned further into her quickness. A pulse of sorcery rippled out. Everything became slower, at least in her perception. She flipped gracefully into the middle of the mob and went to town.

She kicked one and made it pop like a crushed frog. She snapped the spine of a second, tore off the head of a third, and shoved half a dozen into a wall, crushing them along with many more walls and trees in her way. When time seemed to resume at its usual pace, Foodie’s jacket glowed hot red, exuding excess heat, having absorbed some magical consequences for her.

With a twist of sorcery, she gathered the heat into her free hand and turned to thrust her burning palm into another cherub, flash-frying it and a few others behind it. Ruvaria had made a point not to waste anything, and Foodie took that to heart because of her low Mysticism.

Reaching behind her, Foodie summoned her one and only Bibliotheca of the Errant Aberration Chef. She cast one of her favorite spells: Living Box Meal. It turned one of the burned monsters into a fleshy cube that she ate quickly in a few bites. The potent life energy surged through her, though it would go to waste if she hadn’t another spell in mind, Barbecue Blood Flames.

She burned the excess life energy, rounded a corner, and thrust out a torrent of bloody flames that cooked the next wave of monsters until they were only lightly charred. The physical damage was negligible. The real damage was applied to their life energy, killing them far faster while leaving each barbecued monster corpse as containers of extra vitality.

Switching to sorcery again, Foodie smiled and gathered the barbecued corpses into a gravity ball. She remembered how happy her father was when she finally figured out the most basic gravity tricks. It took twenty-six years, but progress was progress, and being showered with Zarian’s joy was like sipping on ambrosia. No wonder Ruvaria and so many others were addicted to him. He was the god of gods and fun as hell.

Foodie frowned. She was missing him already. I’ll see him soon on the outside.