Chapter 285: Abyss Corsair
Silas walked into the foundry, rolling his golden-ringed eyes with a dry exasperated breath.
"You really are an unredeemable pervert, Thora..." Silas stated flatly.
One of these days... perhaps right after they officially crushed Lord Sky in the upcoming war, Silas was genuinely tempted to test whether Thora would still be able to spout all of those crude, nasty, and shameless jokes once she was actually forced to face his boner right in front of her face.
"Hehehehe~"
Silas let out a low evil chuckle in his throat.
The second that quiet dark chuckle escaped Silas’s lips—
Every single hair on the back of Thora’s neck instantly stood up on end.
A sudden, unexplainable, and terrifying chill ran straight down her spine, making her dwarven instincts scream that her Lord was secretly plotting something extraordinarily dangerous for her rear end.
Thora blinked her dark eyes, looking at him nervously.
"W-What the hell are you laughing like that for, My Lord...?"
Silas didn’t answer her.
He simply offered a calm innocent smile and swiped his hand through the air over the storage racks.
FWOOSH... BOOM!
Four massive reinforced iron crates... filled to the brim with the high-grade elemental ores and metallic alloys Silas had procured from Sky’s trade inventory materialized out of his spatial storage, landing heavily against the stone floorboards.
Thora’s nervous confusion instantly vanished, completely replaced by pure dwarven greed.
She scrambled across the foundry floor, throwing her heavy hammer aside, and popped open the heavy iron lid of the first crate.
Inside were rows of shimmering high-density metallic ingots pulsing with raw energy.
Thora pressed her face directly against the cool surface of the metallic ingots, taking a deep greedy breath of the raw ore fragrance.
"Ahhhh~! Smells like raw metallic progress!" Thora cackled happily, rubbing her hands together. "It’s not quite as high-grade as the pristine ores we mine ourselves from the deep Basin veins... but this will do nicely! Hehehe!"
Silas watched her inspect the shipment, letting out a quiet sigh through his nose.
’Once this war with Sky is over...’ Silas reflected in his mind, ’...we definitely need to resume our deep mining operations in the Basin.’
Raw metal ores were the lifeblood of his territory’s infrastructure.
High-tier alloys allowed Thora to forge better armor for the girls, reinforce their siege weapons, and supply their casters with mana-conductive conduits.
’And on the bright side...’ Silas added in his thoughts, ’...I’m going to be receiving a massive influx of new women from this entire situation.’
Once the Lord War concluded and Sky was officially eliminated, Silas intended to dump his accumulated rewards directly into purchasing a massive batch of Troop Summoning Cards.
Expanding his Vanguard legion with fresh female units would give his territory the manpower needed to establish permanent mining outposts across the Umbral Basin as well as the 70 women he was receiving.
’And wait... right,’ Silas remembered, his golden eyes glinting. ’After the war, I’m also scheduled to meet the official World Council.’
When that meeting with the World Council eventually took place, Silas intended to leverage his Gold Core standing and roster to make a series of absurd, uncompromising, and downright crazy demands from the global governing body.
He couldn’t wait to see the looks on those arrogant council diplomats’ faces when he laid his demands on the table.
...But first, he had to crush Lord Sky’s mobile fortress.
"Hey, Lord!" Thora called out suddenly, snapping him out of his internal monologue.
Silas looked over at the dwarf. "Yeah?"
Thora walked over to a velvet-lined display rack situated near her primary workbench... a rack reserved exclusively for custom master-work items stamped with the official crest of the Blessed Land.
She reached out, picking up a sleek shimmering metallic item wrapped in protective silk, and walked back over to Silas.
"I crafted something special for you," Thora announced proudly, her dwarven voice taking on a rare serious craftsman pitch. "Or rather... for your Vespera form."
Silas raised an eyebrow. "For Vespera?"
Thora carefully unrolled the silk wrapping, revealing a breathtaking piece of master-work armor.
It was a sleek silver-and-gold metallic Arm-Gauntlet... crafted from hyper-dense fluid-sculpted metal plates that swept from the fingertips all the way up to the shoulder joint.
The metal glistered with an indestructible, mirror-like sheen, etched with fine glowing arrays that hummed with passive defensive mana.
"Listen to me, My Lord," Thora explained seriously, pointing her calloused finger at the gauntlet. "In an official Lord War against a guy like Sky, those bastards will try every single dirty, underhanded trick in the book to win. And if you go out there fighting in your single-armed Vespera disguise... those enemy snipers and artillery casters are going to target your only good arm to try and disarm you."
Silas’s golden-ringed eyes widened slightly.
Thora was 100% correct...
In his single-armed Vespera persona, his right arm was his primary weapon conduit.
If an enemy sniper managed to sever or disable his right hand during combat, his combat efficiency in that form would drop significantly.
"So I forged this," Thora continued proudly, tapping the metallic sleeve. "I made it using our specialized indestructible Sil-Grave Alloy. It automatically deploys an instantaneous high-yield defense barrier whenever it senses an incoming strike! With this on, no sniper in the Basin will ever be able to touch your hand."
Silas took the silver gauntlet into his hands, feeling its incredible light-weight balance and dense material structure.
A wave of genuine deep appreciation washed over Silas’s chest.
Thora might be a crude pervert 90% of the time... but as a Master Smith, her loyalty, foresight, and care for her Lord were absolute.
"Thank you, Thora," Silas said sincerely. "This is genuinely brilliant work."
Silas leaned down, pressing a soft kiss directly onto the center of her dwarven forehead.
Thora froze dead in her tracks.
Her dark eyes widened, her pale cheeks exploding into a bright burning crimson flush as her dwarven brain completely short-circuited.
"A-Ah... W-Well...!" Thora stammered out, her voice squeaking in total embarrassment.
In a fit of sudden madness...
Thora violently leaped backward two paces, bent her upper body completely forward, and stuck her large and curvaceous rear straight out into the air directly toward Silas’s face.
"I-IF YOU’RE THAT GRATEFUL, MY LORD..." Thora yelled out frantically, her face burning red. "...YOU CAN SHOVE YOUR MEMBER STRAIGHT INTO MY ASS RIGHT NOW! I’M ALREADY SOAKING WET ANYWAY!"
Silas stood there in the foundry, looking at the bent-over dwarf presenting her rear to him.
His golden-ringed eyes narrowed into a cold, flat, and thoroughly deadpan line.
Silas calmly raised his boot and delivered a swift, firm, and thoroughly unimpressed kick right to her exposed butt cheek.
BANG!
"OWWWWW!" Thora shrieked out, clutching her rear as she stumbled forward, pouting angrily at him over her shoulder. "YOU’RE NO FUN, LORD!"
Silas simply shook his head with a dry amused chuckle, turning on his heel as he walked out of the foundry into the morning air.
"Later Thora!"
...
"HAARGH!"
Oona screamed at the absolute top of her lungs, stepping forward on the damp, moss-slicked stone ridge and thrusting her mythril-tipped catalyst staff forward with violent explosive force.
KRA-BOOM!
A scorching compressed torrent of crimson fire erupted from the crystal tip of her staff with a deafening thunderous roar.
The high-density jet of elemental flame tore clean through the humid morning mist of the Umbral Basin, illuminating the dark towering Ironwood canopy in a blinding flash of orange and crimson light before colliding directly with the broad chest of a sprawling six-foot shadow-bat monster that had plummeted from the upper branches.
"EEEEEEEEEE!"
The winged beast let out a brief agonizing shriek as the high-yield flame instantly incinerated its leathery wings, carbonized its demonic flesh, and burned its monster core into falling, glowing ash.
Oona slammed the heavy wooden butt of her staff onto the damp earth with a heavy thud with her teeth clenching so hard her jaw muscles throbbed beneath her skin.
She stood there panting heavily, her chest heaving beneath her leather chest-piece, thoroughly and deeply pissed off at herself.
Ever since the Mage Royale had taken place in the Keep’s central courtyard days ago, Oona hadn’t been able to sleep properly.
Because she and several other apprentice casters had been assigned to peripheral perimeter scouting and routine resource gathering at the time, they had completely missed their chance to compete in the main bracket.
’And it was like everybody forgot us...’
’I thought My Lord was just joking when he talked about promotions...’ Oona grumbled bitterly in her own head, wiping a thick line of sweat from her forehead with the back of her leather glove. ’I didn’t think the winner was actually going to get personal training, direct favor, and a massive jump straight into his inner circle!’
...Though, deep down inside her soul, Oona knew the cold hard truth.
Even if she had managed to enter the bracket that day, she knew that she couldn’t have won against Kadi even if she tried.
That woman was simply too strong.
Kadi’s control over Earth was far too oppressive, her mana reserves were too thick, and her execution was far too sharp for any of them to handle in a direct duel.
"Take this, you ugly, overgrown winged rat!" Valeria screamed from twenty paces to Oona’s left!
Valeria... the fierce short-fused Pyromancer with fiery red hair tied back in a messy swinging ponytail swung her bare arms in a rapid, violent circular arc.
FWOOSH! FWOOSH! FWOOSH!
Three basketball-sized, white-hot fireballs materialized around her broad shoulders and shot forward like mortar shells through the dense foliage.
They slammed straight into a cluster of screeching shadow-bats diving from the upper branches, detonating upon impact in a magnificent shower of blinding sparks, cooked flesh, and exploding ash.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
"Die! Die! DIE!" Seraina shouted boisterously, her loud, cheerful voice ringing out over the roaring forest!
Seraina... the boisterous cheerful Lightning Caster stretching her bare arms near the edge of the defensive barrier channeled raw voltage through the polished copper catalyst rings fitted over her thumbs.
KRA-TATATATA!
Jagged, violent tendrils of blinding purple lightning branched out from her fingertips in a massive, wide-area fan.
The high-voltage arcana leaped wildly from beast to beast, frying the diving bat monsters mid-air, snapping their wing bones with shockwaves, and blasting the rest of the bat monsters with lightning.
"Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck YOU!" Seraina yelled at the top of her lungs with every jagged discharge, laughing wildly as the pungent, electric smell of ozone filled the clearing!
Standing in a tight, disciplined defensive formation around the clearing’s perimeter, the rest of the specialized magic battalion held their ground, casting continuously to keep the swarm suppressed.
Directly beside Valeria stood Lia... the calm Wind Mage holding a sleek wooden focus staff in both of her hands.
She swept her staff in smooth, fluid, and rhythmic motions, generating razor-sharp wind blades that cleanly bisected any shadow-bat attempting to flank their left wing before the beasts could even screech.
Positioned directly behind her was Thalia... the quiet Earth Shaper who kept her eyes fixed firmly on the dirt beneath her boots.
She didn’t shout, curse, or cast flashy spells as she simply stomped her heavy leather boot against the earth with powerful force, raising jagged stone spikes from the ground to impale falling beasts or constructing instant earth-ramparts to deflect incoming sonic screeches.
Over on the right flank stood Calia... the soft-spoken Water Specialist fidgeting nervously with her long sleeves between casts.
"Fuu..."
Despite her timid shy nature, her liquid whips were lethal... slicing cleanly through monster hides and instantly dousing any stray forest fires sparked by Valeria’s wild pyromancy.
Standing silently within the dark, shadowy recess of a massive ancient oak tree was Morrigan... a sharp-eyed Shadow Weaver standing quietly in the corner shadows.
’Miss Tasmin doesn’t want to take me as her student.’
She didn’t utter a single sound.
She merely merged her dark frame with the surrounding trunk shadows, extending dark ethereal shadow-tendrils from the mud to snap the necks of stray beasts before they could land.
Further along the perimeter stood Eliora... the stern Ice Sculptor clutching a crystal orb in her hands, freezing shadow-bats solid mid-air so they shattered like delicate glass upon hitting the hard ground.
Beside her was Venma... the Arcane Blaster twirling a bronze catalyst ring on her thumb, firing precise, high-velocity raw mana bolts that punched clean, fist-sized holes through monster skulls with precision then there was Aurelia, the elegant Light Weaver stretching her fingers to project blinding disorienting flashes that grounded the flying swarms.
Together with Sybil, Oona, Ysolde, and Maeve... all thirteen mages were present here in the clearing, working like a well-oiled artillery unit to completely obliterate the high-tier monster nest in seconds.
SWISH... SLICE!
Suddenly, from the far edge of the tree line, a massive twelve-foot Shadow-Bat Alpha... a monstrous beast that had managed to slip past the frontline barrage using its superior stealth camouflage plummeted down toward Lia’s blind spot with its razor-sharp claws extended.