CHAPTER 58: THE BUTTER KNIFE BLUNDER

Quest Update: "Vythrax’s Trial of Bread and Bravery"

Objective: Defeat the Shadow Wyrm with a butter knife. Yes, really.

Reward: Passage to the Heart of Glimmerfen, maybe a shred of respect.

Failure: You become a very sad ghost with a very sad knife.

The rune circle in Vythrax’s lair glowed like a disco floor designed by a sadistic wizard, casting flickering shadows across the cavern. The Shadow Wyrm loomed before me—a smoky, half-sized clone of Vythrax, its form swirling like a storm cloud with anger issues. Its eyes burned like cursed coals, and its claws scraped the stone with a SKRITCH that made my spine shiver. I stood in the circle, gripping a dull butter knife in one hand and the Wyrm’s Quill in the other, its faint glow my only hint I wasn’t doomed to be dragon chow. My crew stood outside the runes, their faces a mix of pity and popcorn-munching anticipation. My coat was a disaster—torn, singed, dusted with festival glitter—but I squared my shoulders. I was Cecil Dreggs, the guy who’d once lost a staring contest to a muffin and lived. If I could bake a loaf to impress a dragon, I could stab a shadow. Maybe.

Lilith leaned on her scythe, her red eyes glinting like she was already planning my funeral. "Cecil, if you die to a butter knife, I’m carving ’Moron’ on your grave."

Vorren sharpened his knife, the scritch-scritch cutting through my nerves. "Don’t embarrass us more than usual." His massive frame blocked half the torchlight, making him look like a grumpy mountain.

Jex clutched his apple, eyes wide as saucers. "That thing’s gonna eat you! And I’m not ready to be an orphan!" His voice cracked, echoing like a dropped glass.

Yvra stood tall, her princess dress untouched by the cavern’s grime. "Fail this, Cecil, and I’ll erase your name from every royal archive." Her voice was cold, but her dagger twitched, ready for action.

Mister Fog floated above, sipping tea that smelled like burnt dreams and existential dread. "The quill’s power hinges on your intent, Cecil. Focus, or the knife spreads only chaos."

Sir Thrain, coated in flour from the last trial, raised his lance. "For the crown’s honor!" He swung it, knocking over a pile of bones with a CLATTER, then tripped into the rune circle’s edge. The runes zapped him with a ZZT, and he yelped, helmet wobbling. "Dishonorable sparks!"

Sir Gorrim, his mustache a mess of ribbon and yeast, waved his broken sword hilt. "By valor’s grace!" He charged to help Thrain, slipped on a gold coin, and crashed into a skull pile with a WHUMP. "Cursed relics!" he wheezed, flailing.

I twirled the butter knife, forcing a grin despite the crew’s groans. "Laugh it up, but this knife and I are gonna make history. Shadow Wyrm, meet Cecil Dreggs, Butterer of Doom!" My bravado was mostly hot air, but the quill’s glow pulsed, sparking a flicker of hope in my chest.

Vythrax loomed above, its laugh shaking coins loose with a JANGLE. "Wield the Blade of Banality, worm! Slay my shadow, or join my hoard as ash!" Its tail flicked, sending a skull skittering with a CLACK.

The Shadow Wyrm lunged, claws swiping with a WHOOSH that nearly parted my hair. I dove, rolling across the rune circle, my coat flapping like a sad cape. The butter knife glinted, uselessly blunt, but the quill buzzed, its glow spreading to the blade. The knife shimmered, its edge sharpening faintly, like it had decided to graduate from spreading butter to slicing shadows.

"Whoa!" I yelped, dodging another claw swipe that tore my sleeve with a RIP. "Quill, you’re my hero!" I slashed, the knife leaving a glowing trail. It nicked the shadow’s flank, and it hissed, part of its form dissolving like smoke in a breeze.

Lilith’s eyes widened, just a smidge. "Not entirely useless. Shocking."

Vorren grunted, sharpening faster. "Still mostly useless."

Jex peeked out, apple trembling. "Did you just... cut a ghost?"

Yvra’s dagger glinted as she shifted her stance. "Don’t get cocky, Cecil. You’re still a walking liability."

Mister Fog sipped his tea, unfazed. "The quill channels your will. Intriguing, but unstable."

Thrain scrambled up, flour falling like snow. "A strike for valor!" He swung his lance, hitting a stalactite with a CRACK, showering us with dust. Gorrim waved his hilt, shouting, "By the crown’s grace!" before slipping on coins and landing in bones with a THUD. "Dishonorable hoard!" he gasped.

The Shadow Wyrm roared, its form flickering as it lunged again. I ducked, the quill buzzing louder, like it was cheering me on. My old Loafbearer instincts kicked in—a faint spark of power I hadn’t felt since my powers vanished. I slashed, the knife slicing a chunk of shadow that dissolved with a HISS. "Take that, Smokey!" I shouted, dodging a tail whip that cracked the floor with a BOOM.

Vythrax’s eyes narrowed, sparks flying from its nostrils. "Bold, worm. But boldness is not victory."

I grinned, sweat stinging my eyes. "Bold’s all I’ve got!" I lunged, the knife glowing brighter as the quill’s power surged. The blade hit the shadow’s shoulder, dispersing a cloud of smoke. But the shadow reformed, faster, angrier, its eyes promising a very bad day.

"Cecil!" Lilith snapped, scythe poised. "Stop dancing and kill it!"

"Trying!" I yelled, dodging claws that smashed a bone pile with a CRUNCH

. The quill’s glow spread, making the knife hum like it was ready to carve a roast. I slashed wildly, each hit dissolving bits of the shadow, but it kept coming, its roars shaking my bones.

Jex, panicking, threw his apple. It hit the shadow’s snout with a SPLAT, doing exactly nothing. "Take that!" he squeaked, then hid behind Vorren, trembling.

Vorren snorted. "Useless fruit." He tossed his knife, the blade spinning with a WHIR and slicing a shadow tendril, which vanished with a POOF. "Do better, Cecil."

Yvra sighed, tossing her dagger with deadly precision. It hit the shadow’s eye, dispersing it briefly with a HISS. "Finish this, Cecil, or I’ll finish you."

Mister Fog’s tea steamed as he floated closer. "The quill responds to resolve. Find yours, or we’re ash."

Thrain charged, lance raised. "For the crown!" He tripped over a skull, rolling into the runes with another ZZT. "Curse these sparks!" he groaned, helmet askew. Gorrim followed, waving his hilt, only to slip on gold with a WHUMP. "Dishonorable currency!" he wheezed.

I panted, knife trembling as the Shadow Wyrm lunged, jaws wide. I raised the quill, its glow flaring like a spotlight. "Eat this!" I shouted, slashing with both knife and quill. The blade glowed white-hot, slicing the shadow’s chest. It screamed, a SHRIEK that rattled coins, and half its form dissolved.

But Vythrax wasn’t impressed. "Adequate, worm. But the trial is not over." The runes flared, and the Shadow Wyrm reformed, now with two heads, each uglier than the last. Its twin roars shook the cavern, and my stomach dropped like I’d eaten bad stew.

New Quest Objective: Survive the Double Shadow Wyrm.

Reward: Not being a ghost yet.

Failure: Ghosthood, with extra embarrassment.

"Two heads?" I yelped, dodging a double claw swipe that cracked the floor with a BOOM. "That’s cheating!" The quill buzzed, and I felt that spark again, stronger now. I slashed, dispersing one head with a POOF, but the other snapped, grazing my arm with a SHRRK

. Pain flared, but the quill’s glow kept me moving.

"Cecil!" Lilith yelled, slashing her scythe at the rune circle’s edge, sending sparks flying with a CRACKLE. "Move faster, or I’ll drag you out!"

Vorren threw a skull, hitting the shadow with a THUNK. "Stab harder, idiot!"

Jex, out of apples, threw a coin. It bounced off with a PING. "I’m so useless!" he wailed, ducking behind Yvra.

Yvra’s second dagger flew, pinning a shadow tendril with a THWACK. "End this, Cecil, or I’ll carve a better hero from stone."

Mister Fog sipped his tea, calm as ever. "The quill’s power grows with your will. Find it."

Thrain, zapped again, raised his lance. "For valor!" He tripped, knocking over a gold pile with a JANGLE. Gorrim waved his hilt, slipping again with a SPLAT. "By the crown’s grace!" he gasped.

I slashed, the knife cutting through smoke like it was born for it. The Shadow Wyrm’s heads lunged, and I ducked, the quill flaring brighter. I stabbed upward, hitting both heads with a glowing slash. They dissolved with a HISS, leaving a smoky puddle that sizzled on the floor.

Vythrax snorted, sparks flying. "Adequate, worm. You pass... barely."

Quest Update: Trial 2 Cleared!

Reward: You’re still alive, somehow.

I panted, knife and quill glowing like a budget light show. "Told you I’m the Butterer of Doom!" My arm throbbed, but I grinned, feeling the quill’s buzz like a pat on the back.

Lilith rolled her eyes. "You’re a walking disaster."

Vorren grunted, retrieving his knife. "Lucky disaster."

Jex clapped, then stopped. "Wait, we’re not done?"

Yvra sheathed her dagger, glaring. "Don’t celebrate yet, Cecil."

Mister Fog sipped his tea. "The quill’s power grows. Be wary."

Thrain and Gorrim, tangled in bones, shouted, "Victory!" and promptly fell again with a CLUNK. "Dishonorable piles!" Gorrim wheezed.

Vythrax’s tail slammed the ground with a BOOM. "One trial remains. Prepare, worm." Its eyes glowed, promising something worse than shadows.

I gulped, quill warm in my hand. Two trials down, one to go. I wasn’t just a failure anymore. I was... something. Maybe.