Blacksmith of the Apocalypse

There were also humans among them, men and women taking part in... unsavory acts with the beasts. Their eyes were glazed as if they were not aware of the present.

"keke, do you see those girls? They believe they are having the best night of their life with their boyfriend right now. Isn't it funny how easy these bottom feeders fall for even the simplest illusion?"

"Say, my good friend. Are these all the weasels in Y-city?" the young asked friendly as they got a drink at the bar. His smooth voice sunk into the weasel's ears and it wanted to brag.

"What? Pff, no. We are way more. This is merely the business I belong to. Our immigration is even government-subsidized. There are a lot more here and waiting to come over to enjoy this place. Our council sees this place as a great business opportunity."

"I see..." Seth said quietly with a slow nod. The next things happened very fast. Flames climbed the walls. Flames blocked the doors. An armored hand was pressing down on the weasel's face.

It heard his new friend's calm and amicable voice talking in a slow almost lighthearted manner.

"Did you know that in the past ages the people believed that fire could purify the soul? I can guarantee you that's not what will happen today."

When the weasel looked through the gaps in the fingers it saw a figure clad in precious armor. Its face was calm, almost emotionless. As the words ended the color of the flames changed to a pale, almost white, blue. The bouncers jumped away as the whole building was encased in a wall of fire, making escape impossible.

"Let me test this, I will start with you," Seth said and stabbed the weasel with a blooddrinker dagger. With a slash, its guts spilled from its huge belly, but its muffled screams could not escape its throat as the hand pressed down on its face with an iron grip.

"Don't worry, you won't die. But I bet you will wish for it soon enough. I need you close to death, to try something out."

The club around them was in complete panic. Nobody had the time to care about the scenes between the two. All the weasels that just had a great time were running around in hysteria trying to find a way to escape. Their playthings on the other hand just stood there like dolls, trapped in the illusion of a happy time.

The weasel could only stare at that armored figure as it felt its life slowly leaving, enduring the pain of the wound. And just when it thought it was finally over it felt a great suction from the hand on his head. It felt its life waning but death was retreating...

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Seth had used his 5 Free SP on <Soul Capture>. He would not give these beasts the chance to enter the afterlife. With the level up he was now able to sever the connection between a body and the soul, as long as it was weak. This included the living close to death and lesser undead.

He had encased the building in spirit flame to make sure nobody could escape, but he was not planning to burn them. They were not worth it. The bandits were strong, so they needed a strategy. These beasts were weak compared to those ruffians.

His hammer was enough. Charon's Obol was going to collect some wages. Seth was not a thunder god but the roaring of flames followed him and the swings of his hammer. He was a reaper among the hysteric crowd and the weasels fell to his hammer like wheat to a scythe.

Heads were crushed, spines smashed, bones broken, and vitals exploded. Under the impact of his hammer swings, nobody could flee. Without empathy or mercy, the souls were either harvested by the hammer or by Seth's hand.

Seth could almost feel the hammer's joy as it filled with the power of souls. He collected some souls, but most were eaten by the hammer. It had sampled and gorged on many good materials since the time he made it. It must have been close to evolving again.

At some point, the weasels finally started resisting. They were not stupid and grouped together to take down the guy that kept slaughtering them. But the resistance was short-lived. In a rolling barrage of flames, their fur and skin burned away any ability to resist.

Some weasels were still running around or hiding in the building, but the group before him had turned into half-dead crispy corpses on the ground. They were like vegetables, he just needed to pick them up.

It was a shame they didn't give much experience, but he probably would not have had such an easy time if they did. They were mostly merchants and illusionists and the only remarkable thing about them was their racial skills and cunning. Not their level or strength.

These souls he harvested directly were at least medium size and some were even big. It was the difference between collecting a residue and harvesting the whole thing.

<Harvested Soul, Crafting material, Uncommon

These souls retain a large number of memories>

Seth had hoped he could harvest souls with their egos if he increased the level. In that case, he could have kept torturing them and turn them into something hilarious. What effect would a huge number of memories have? He would have to text.

Seth had no need to hurry. Nobody would be able to leave, and nobody would be able to help from outside. Slowly and thoroughly, he took his time to check every nook and cranny of the building, so nobody would escape his little shopping spree.

<Clear Sight>, the ability granted by Argo's Eye was a great help as he could easily see through the makeshift illusion of the witty creatures. It also helped find quite many hidden safes and rooms the weasels had used to store their dirty money.

Although he was a... hero of justice, he was no ascetic who said no to the loot of his enemies. He deliberately picked up every little item box the beasts dropped.

Only when he was sure that no weasel had survived, he canceled the fire barrier outside. Even with all his buffs, keeping that going for several hours had cost him a lot more than fighting the weasel people.

The humans stood around in a daze, still trapped in illusions. After seeing what had happened here, Seth thought this was for the best. If he could bring them out and they would never remember or even know what happened here, everyone would be better off.

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Once the curtain of fire had fallen masked troops entered the building, finding the scene of horror and disgust. In the second row was Mark Baker who entered after the shock troops. His eyes wandered over the scene of crushed furry beasts and the men and women barely wearing a speck of cloth.

Anger distorted his face when he saw the dazed look in the people's eyes. As an illusionist himself he could guess what state they were in. Among them stood a man in armor holding a malevolent hammer. He was covered in blood and breathing roughly.

The officers were pointing the modernized muskets at the suspect who didn't seem to care about it at all. He wiped the blood from his face and Baker recognized Seth. In the same moment, the other called out.

"Mark! You are finally here! Really, look at what I had to do because you suck in your job."

Baker signaled the officers to lower their weapons and take care of the people. The dazed victims were enveloped in a thick blanket and were carefully led out of the building. Baker approached the blood-covered blacksmith.

"What is going on here?" he asked Seth, forcing his voice to stay calm.

"Oh, you know..."

Seth recounted what had happened and what the weasel had told him and what he did in exchange. Baker was shocked hearing his suspicions confirmed. He looked outside where the officers took care of the victims. It would take a long time to release all of them from their illusions.

"it's a shame you didn't leave one of them alive for tort- interrogation. If we knew more about their structure it would be easier to stop them..."

"Oh, you can have this," Seth said and held up an empty hand.

"What? Are you mocking me now?" Maker asked staring at the empty hand.

"Oh, you can't see it? My fault, sorry. I will put it in this box. God find a Necromancer or something like that. This is the soul of their leader or a high-ranking member. At least it was giving orders."

"How did you-?"

"Not telling. I'm leaving now. I did more than enough of your work today."

With that he left, leaving Mark standing with a box in his hands.