Blacksmith of the Apocalypse

The ragged robes ripped, revealing a deep gash from his left shoulder, across his torso, down to the left hip. A mortal wound, this was the end for the weird shaman. Aden, the Dark Jackal Knight was sure of it.Thɪs chapter is updated by ɴovelꜰɪre.ɴet

The shaman sank to his knees, however, the deep gash in his body did not bleed. Pale flesh was revealed below the ragged robes forming a stark contrast to the gaping black wound. As he watched for several seconds, he finally saw a viscous liquid droop out from the gash.

Like seething tar, it started flowing from the gash and onto the ground. Aden stepped back as the ink-black pool grew faster and faster on the ground. Vigilantly, he took some distance and observed what was happening. He had no idea what was going on but his experience told him, that getting involved now would only endanger him.

Under his terrified eyes, the pool of tar started taking shape writhing and coagulating to the center. Right in front of the cut-down shaman it slowly formed into a pillar before taking an almost humanoid shape. It had no arms or legs, but a discernible smooth head. The head was featureless at first, but a crack quickly started forming at the front.

“I would have liked to wait a little longer, but it should suffice for the initial severing,” the crack spoke in a voice that shattered Aden's eardrums and rattled his brain, instantly causing severe headaches. The Jackal Knight almost dropped his sword at the first word.

“You did quite the number on my poor little saint,” Sol'Fiam spoke and just the words of the god forced the guild master to his knees. Terrifying visions appeared before the man's eyes and he felt darkness encroaching his very being.

His vision was blurred, but he noticed movement in the back. The rest of the black goop started pulling back into the gash on the man's chest and sewing the wound shut. Teetering as his strength left him, he also saw another figure approaching.

“Praise the Sun!” a massive man surrounded by a ball of light and fire crashed into the pool of ink, smashing the humanoid figure. It was a monk, surrounded fiery divine aura.

“Derog! Why are you just standing there?! Quick, help me up! We have to flee!” Aden called out to the Adventurer King. The Adventurer King and second in command of the Sun Knight Guild had actually come to his rescue, but after descending like a meteor, he simply stood there, striking a heroic pose!

“Sss, a sun god, I see. That hurt a little, but it doesn't seem like he put a lot of effort into blessing this champion...” the goo mumbled and took shape again. Derog showed no reaction to this. “Don't count on this numskull to save you. His mind is full of vain, greedy, and self-righteous thoughts. In a way it's interesting to see a man so honest with his own desires...” the god mumbled, causing veins in Aden's eyes to pop and his heart to ache.

…

~Ray, stand up. I have closed your wound. Although it was a little early, I will say you fulfilled your first task as my saint. You have collected enough power for me to take my own form and leave your body. Now, receive your reward.~

Sol'Fiam, the ugly Sun, spoke to Ray in his mind and the saint could feel the power of the god flow through his body. It was different from the evil powers and miasma he had absorbed up to now. It was warm like...and words came to his hazy mind. Words he had just heard...

“Praise the sun...” and he reached to the sky, bowing to the inky black shape of Sol'Fiam before him.

The power of the god flushed through his body and collected all the evil power and its residues that were stuck and stored in various parts of Ray's body. It all flowed through his body and up to his forehead, where it separated into seven spots. The dark power he had collected over the past months crystallized into seven diamond-shaped black stones that made it look like he was wearing a crown.

The time had finally come, the promise Sol'Fiam had given him. All the toxins and residues that made him look aged, crippled, and ugly were gone. Although he wouldn't be able to fully return to his old looks, he would no longer cause people to turn away because he stunk or was too ugly.

This realization was even stronger than the knowledge around the seven gems on his forehead. From now on, he would be able to store evil power and miasma in these and no longer need to harm his own body for the power. This was what it meant to be the saint of Sol'Fiam and not just a follower.

“Thank you, Lord!”, he praised and kowtowed with tears in his eyes.

~I told you, I would keep my promise.~ Sol'Fiam said touched, but also a little grumpy since it was obvious that Ray had not fully believed him. ~ Now get up and take care of these fools. If I have to stay here like this any longer, I may have to return to your body.~

These words had Ray back on his feet in a second. He had finally managed to fulfill his quest and had gotten rid of the voice in his head. Although he had gotten closer to his god, having someone else in your mind, was exhausting and a severe breach of privacy.

Ray started with the incapacitated Aden. Since the man was immune to his curses, Ray pulled out something else. Something the Jackal Knight knew just too well. What the shaman pulled from his inventory was one of the slave shackles he had taken from the people he bought in Morranto

This was the product made and distributed by Morranto's lord. It was different from the things used by the Theocracy of Chains that were able to block the influence of systems since they had no divine aura. Ray had no idea what kind of spells were behind it, but they were a little like a forced contract magic.

The guild master tried to struggle, but the presence of the god had thoroughly subjugated him and he was too weak, to stop Ray from putting the shackles onto his wrists, ankles, and neck. It was the quickest method the chosen of Sol'Fiam was able to think of, to end this situation. When he tried to do the same to Derog, the shackles instantly heated up when they got close to the chosen, hindering Ray from putting them onto him.

~Although it doesn't seem like his god cares a lot about him, he still has his divine protection. Leave him be.~ Sol'Fiam explained as the pool of ink started fading out of existence. The god was dispersing the corporeal form to save power.

Derog was still caught in Sol'Fiam's power, so Ray decided to quickly look for Lydia and the others. When he found them, Lydia was also caught up in a two-on-one battle, well not really. Her first opponent, the cultivator woman was stuck in a pile of rubble. There was no telling whether she was still alive.

Now, she was facing off against someone with a beard that made them look like a monkey and they were using a golden spear, however, it was clear that the wolf had the upper hand with it's combination of bat and bow.

Ray silently joined, throwing a slew of curses that hampered the opponent, turning the fight even more one-sided. Wisely, the monkey tried to run, but he was so bogged down that he could only take a beating until he was in the same situation as the first woman.

“Let's get the noobs and runoff,” Lydia exclaimed. The two quickly followed the group of refugees that had Hubert. Although they were surrounded, the two came in time to lay waste to another crowd of goons.

“We have to get out of this city,” Hubert exclaimed. “I have a way for us to get away, as long as we get past the barriers and locks of this place.”