Blacksmith of the Apocalypse

Chapter 330: Rolling in the Mud

He had looted roughly 40 small souls from the riff-raff but nothing else of use or worth. This was not what he had expected.

When he came to the city, he expected it to be swarmed with juveniles at this point. Or maybe even adults. It had been a whole year; one would expect the population to boom or grow stronger at least.

Seth had even low-key expected to find draconic materials. He remembered that weird stone from the Juvenile’s brain. The huntress Yudrid had told him about the Karfunkel. The juvenile having one meant these snakes had the potential to rank up into a draconic race.

If this was true then he could have gotten his hand on a whole bunch of epic or at least rare materials. He didn’t even worry about most of it being leather. He had Wedan and Cerberus now.

The latter could do anything he could and the other was actually an Armorer, a blacksmith specialized in making armors. He could shove the whole thing about leather armor for the shop on Wedan now.

The dwarf did not yet know of his luck, but Seth was sure he would agree to stay with Minas Mar. What dwarf could resist the lure of unlimited materials and creative freedom?

But no snakes came. This would escalate to actual work if he had to hunt them down. Even when they were huge creatures, they could easily hide in the murky waters below.

“But why isn’t the title working to draw them in?”

~ Maybe they are occupied? ~ Puffles threw in.

“What would they be so occupied with that they ignore their brood being killed?”

~ Making a fresh one? ~ Al commented dryly

“You mean they…?” Seth shuddered at the thought of what the sorceress was suggesting.

He had seen documentaries about this. How constrictor snakes would create huge breeding balls with loads of males and one female in the middle.

~Stop thinking that, we can read your thoughts! ~ Puffles cried out.

~ Hmmm. ~ Al only gave a weird ambiguous moan that could mean anything.

~Yes, if this is right, it should be enough of a distraction for them to notice you. ~ she said as a distraction.

“It could also be a chance to get a bunch of them at once.”

A big ball of snakes doing steamy business couldn’t be that hard to find! He only felt slightly bad to interrupt their intercourse. On the other hand, he was planning to curb their species anyways. Turning mating into decimating didn’t change much in the overall outcome.

Seth mounted the Ivicer and pointed in the direction of the city center. It was the direction he had seen the field boss matriarch move to the last time he saw it.

“Let’s go in that direction.”

The nightmare centipede did not fly to save mana. Instead, it jumped from building to building. Puffles jumped from roof to roof or sometimes he would jump at the wall of a higher building and climb up before jumping to the next.

They came to the edge of a wide lake. The buildings in the area were destroyed with the rubble forming a ring of cliffs surrounding the almost circular clearing. The water inside the lake was raving with giant bodies that incessantly kept winding and coiling around each other.

Horrifying.

It was all Seth could think at this moment. The sight was simply horrifying. The whole lake, with a depth of several tens of meters, was completely filled with titanic snakes. He could barely make out where one started and the other ended, but each and every one of them was thick like a train and probably double the length of Puffles.

Before he could stop himself, he had used <Observe> on the turmoil. His sight was filled with so many overlays that he could barely see anything else! The fact, that it didn’t seem like the snakes had noticed, did not alleviate his shock.

<Titanoboa Juvenile lv. 47>

<Titanoboa Juvenile lv. 54>

<Titanoboa Patriarch lv. –>

<Titanoboa Adult lv. 65>

<Titanoboa Juvenile lv. 53>

<Titanoboa Adult lv. 59>

The list kept going and the patriarch with the inaccessible level was not the worst.

<Pseudo-Swamp Dragon Matriarch lv. –>

A dragon. Not a drake or a wyvern. Not a “draconic species” or a far-off relative. It was a Dragon.

Even if it was “just” a pseudo-dragon if there was one thing Seth had learned one thing during his time and Ora and the interaction with foreigners then it was what Dragon meant.

Dragons were a legendary existence at the absolute apex. There were only a few existences like this.

A true Dragon could even rival a lower god.

~ Calm down, Idiot. It’s not as bad as you think. Pseudo-Dragon means that it could grow into a real dragon with time. Right now, it is far from being a full dragon or becoming a legendary existence. That angel, Luluphone or whatever, was stronger than that worm. ~ Al’Salzar scoffed at the existence of the pseudo-dragon.

“So, you think I can take it on?”

~ If you wear my ring… you have a 65% chance in a direct confrontation. Not counting her minions.~

“I see, then let’s not directly confront it.”

Had it been just a mating ball of giant snakes, Seth might have just attacked them by spamming the fire rain until the whole lake became snake soup. With the existence of the matriarch, that became a really dumb idea.

For now, they decided to retreat and prepare for the battle.

————————–

The hum of a tranquil tune broke through the morning mist that lay over the lake in the middle of Delta. Unlike other demonic ballads, it would have been very pleasing to hear if there was anyone to listen besides the wreathing ball of giant snakes.

It calmed his heart and silenced his mind. A profound sense of mourning accompanied his song. It was like a funeral march for the restless souls.

A short twang drowned out the song for just a moment before life got into the heap of snakes.

A song to soothe the victims of his bow, for they would be dead once the song was heard.

Over and over the bowstring resounded and as more movement came into the lake, so did some quiet down again.

The Trail of Mourning was a sonnet that sounded compassionate at first, but actually, it explained to the victim that it was simply unfortunate to cross his way, to accept its fate because it stood no chance, to begin with. In the same breath, it praised the skill of a demon known for its powerful archery.

It sounded sweet but was technically just gloating.

Seth was no archer and lacked any specific skills to strengthen his attacks. He could only compensate it by buffing himself with a song.

The adamantine tips of his arrows easily penetrated the thick scales of the gigantic beasts. Guided by the bow’s will they would find the way to a vital spot of the reptilian bodies.

Once inside their bodies the arrow tip’s enchantment and the bow’s effects brought rapid decay and terrible pain to the scaley fiends. Some directly lost consciousness and very few among them were assured to never wake up again as they were hit Mind Decay.

Those hit by the arrows were furious from the pain and tried to emerge from the knot and look for the enemy. The few that managed to escape the chaotic bodies had done so in vain. There was nothing to be seen.

Seth stood on one of the cliffs at the edge of the lake. Wearing the helm of Hades, his tune and arrows never ceased.

Puffles observed the lake from a distance in a stupor. He was not the only one who had grown. The firestorm in the forest had already been strong, but this seemed simply like cheating.

The blacksmith simply stood there, sang a song, and shot arrows without a care in the world as he stayed unseen. Despite the huge difference in level and physical prowess, the number of arrows made sure that optional effects would trigger at least once in a while.

One party was completely safe, while the other was being slowly killed. Sometimes an arrow would even find its way through the eye and end the life of a reptile, bigger than the Ivicer, in a heartbeat.

Puffles, the divine being and nightmare centipede understood the glory of being overgeared and made a decision.

He would pester Seth for his own set of equipment! The world would shudder in fear before Puffles, the Great.

Even more, than it did already!