Blacksmith of the Apocalypse

After dropping Cade like a tactical warhead, the Puffles Bomber continued in a different direction. Their path was a little farther.

"That's weird. The fight ahead suddenly fell silent..." The scaled lady mumbled behind Seth.

"You mean it's already over?" the monk in the back asked worried.

"No. It simply fell silent." Senior White answered uncertainly.

When they reached the scene of the fight, a field of statues appeared from the fog. Upon closer inspection, they were not statues. The horde of Zombies below was unmoving as if it was caught in a state of stasis.

"Don't fly any lower. I can feel the traces of a divine domain. You might get caught in it."

~I know! I can feel it too. ~ Puffles answered sulkily.

The divine chilopod stayed roughly 10 meters above the ruins of the city. They followed the trail of petrified undead on the streets until they could soon hear chanting from below.

Kneeling on the ground, surrounded by three high-ranking undead was Yvette. The saintess was frantically chanting.

"Hmm, she is currently sustaining a sanctuary. However, she seems exhausted." Senior White commented.

"What do we do? We can't go down, right?" Brock asked.

"Isn't it obvious what we do?" Seth asked confused. He had already equipped the Mind Reaper.

"A bunch of unmoving targets. I will just shoot them from here."

"Do you have no honor as a warrior?" Senior White asked intrigued.

"I'm a blacksmith. I don't give two cents on a warrior's honor."

In the meantime, he had already nogged an arrow and shot without aiming, using the Life Reaper Skill. Without even looking, the arrow easily found its way and lodged itself into the head of one of the three high-ranked undead.

"See, our dear comrade is holding them down for us, so we can end them." he shot another one.

"It wouldn't be nice to let her wait."

Four more arrows, one by one, found their way into the vitals of the stuck attacker. Even with such fatal attacks hitting them, they did not move. It was like shooting mannequins. It felt just a little unfair. Nothing that would keep Seth awake at night.

<Ding! You have leveled up! You are now lv.63!>

The bard heard the notification surprised. The experience had been coming in so scarcely, that he had already given up on gaining another level any time soon. But he had to deal with the situation before he could give it a look.

The saintess was still frantically chanting, it seemed that she did not notice the arrival of reinforcements. She only stopped when a roll of rope suddenly hit her head and broke her concentration.

"Grab on! We will get you out of here!"

With her concentration also broke the spell. The sanctuary unraveled and while the ordinary zombie horde started moving again, the three attackers crumpled to the ground. Still confused, she followed the blacksmith's order and almost instinctively grabbed onto the rope.

The Ivicer did not need any further hints and rose to the sky, lifting Yevette into safety. Brock and Hubert started pulling up the rope, while the exhausted woman desperately clung to it.

"I'm glad you guys are okay." she gasped as Brock helped her onto the back of the centipede.

"Okay, let's get to the next fight and-" Seth started talking, but Senior white shook her head.

"The other fights have ended. The city has fallen silent," she explained.

Seth nodded, while the others on Puffles Back looked a little gloomy. Especially the Archeologist Megan. She was the only one of their party currently present and she only knew about Caleb other than her. She didn't want it to be true, but Senior White had no reason to lie.

"What about Caleb?" she asked hopefully.

"The one riding a dragon and the one who fought him seem fine." the snake answered, lifting a weight off the archeologist's heart.

"I see. Senior White, could you help us one last time to collect those who are left and regroup?" the blacksmith asked the deity solemnly.

The scaled lady nodded, and they followed her directions to find Cade. They found her sitting together with a dwarf and a tanned woman. The latter gave a valiant impression and with the light armor made of beast leather and fur.

Seth was an enjoyer of pretty ladies in all variations, but it was the dwarf that really caught his attention. Or rather, what the bearded fellow wore. The clean lines of his unadorned full-plate armor gave him the aura of an unstoppable tank.

He vigilantly eyes the giant nightmare in the sky. In his right hand, he held a long and vicious falchion. Probably his secondary weapon. In his left was a mighty shield that made him look even more like an impenetrable fortress.

What really surprised him, was that he could not appraise the armor. It was not because his skill was too low, but it was actually blocked. Similarly, to how there were scrolls that could appraise an item permanently, there were those that could inhibit appraisal.

It didn't matter much. The blacksmith had already learned not to depend on the system skills for everything. Judging by the dark-gray sheen of the armor he was tempted to think it could be <Adamantium>.

The armor didn't give off any elemental auras which meant that the enchantments were self-contained, without reliance on specific elements. Seth guessed that the dwarf and his armor were similar to Tekar and the armor Seth had made for him.

He really wanted to have a closer look, but he couldn't let it slip right now. If the enemy tapped into the broadcasting, they would know everything that got recorded.

"Fenny! Polter!" the archeologist called out once she saw the two.

The moment Puffles was low enough she jumped off and ran towards them. The valiant woman caught her in an embrace.

"Since when was our little archeologist so emotional?" she teased Megan grinning.

"Mou!" the girl made a sound in disagreement but hugged the bandit woman back.

Seeing their party member jump off the monster, the dwarf finally put away his weapon, but not in his inventory. He wore the falchion on his belt and the shield on his back.

"It's good to see that we aren't the only ones, girl." the dwarf Polter said gruffly. An attentive listener would be able to hear a tiny smile somewhere in that majestic beard.

The Ivicer landed and everyone got off to stretch their legs. Seth went ahead to greet Cade.

"It's good to see that everything somehow worked out on your end."

"Hmm, it seems it didn't go as well on your end?" she asked, seeing only Yvette as a new addition on Seth's side.

"We had just rescued Yvette, when Senior White told us, that the fights in the city had stopped. We came to collect you."

Cade nodded and joined the rest of the group, while Seth approached the three who were having a small reunion.

"And who are you, bub?" the dwarf stepped forward, blocking his way.

A glint flashed through Seth's eyes when he the ring on the dwarf's thick finger.

"Hello, I'm Seth," he said and offered his hand to shake.

The blacksmith knew some dwarven greetings from Ora, however, he judged them useless in this situation. Except for their inherent nature and preferences, the cultures of races could crassly differentiate based on the world they developed in.

Polter actually took his hand, only to proceed with pulling Seth very close to him and whispering in his ears. The bard had not expected it, but it was a good chance.

"I don't know you and I don't trust you. I don't know what you plan, but know this I-"

"Is this Ithildin?" Seth interrupted him.

With strength the dwarf had not expected, Seth had twisted his hand and was staring at the ring. The dwarf tried to pull back but noticed that his hand was caught in an iron grip.

"Is it Ithildin?" Seth asked again.

The dwarf's bushy eyebrows lifted when he saw the glow in the other's eyes.

"Are you a blacksmith?" he asked suspiciously.

It was Seth's turn to get even closer to the dwarf and whisper in his ear. He didn't directly answer the question. Instead, he made an offer.

"I know that little knife is not your main weapon. It's way too short to be used by a dwarf in addition to a shield. Tell me about the Ithildin and I will lend you a weapon that fits you better."

The offer was already more than enough for the dwarf to realize the answer to his question. The dwarf nodded decisively.

"We will talk more later," Seth whispered and the two separated again.

"I'm Polter Onyxheart, nice to meet you."

The dwarf's previous hostility had completely vanished. No matter what cultural differences developed depending on the world, blacksmiths always had a high standing among dwarfs. Polter's change in attitude was the best example.

"What were you two talking so intimately about?" the woman called Fenny smoothly entered the conversation. She got close to Seth and let her hands intimately wander over his shoulders.

"I'm Feanys, the great mountain queen. Why don't you talk a little more with me? Or has the mighty hero who saved our little Megan a thing for short old men?" she asked.

Her well-tanned face was so close that he could feel her soft breath on his face. Who would shove away a beautiful woman that was offering herself? He aggressively grabbed her hips and pulled her close to him. She blushed but didn't resist. He leaned forward and she closed her eyes. However, he didn't go in for the kiss.

"I have a girlfriend, but she is quite open. When we are back in Chrona, I'm sure she lets you join us if you ask her nicely," he whispered to her ears with a wolfish grin.

Then he simply let her go while laughing. Such an aggressive woman, it was better to give her a little shock.

"Scoundrel!" she exclaimed, blushing furiously.

...

"You fled?!"

She was looking at the row of undead kneeling before her.

"Explain."

"Some were stronger than expected and they managed to regroup quickly thanks to external help. I am sorry, Mistress."

She sighed. It was a fact that they lost some of their combat ability after just turning undead. Two teams at once might have been too much to ask.

"... Fine, it doesn't matter if we didn't get all of them. I will just proceed with the plan a little ahead of time. We are done here anyway."

She smiled, even if she lost a few, she still earned a lot, no matter what happened.