As the realization dawned on Thorian, his pupils widened with apprehension. With an urgent command, he bellowed, “Close your eyes, now!” Without hesitation, his companions obeyed. The fear in Thorian's voice conveyed a singular, unspoken truth: they were facing a formidable adversary.
With his own eyes sealed shut, Thorian honed his other senses. His already acute hearing and smell, gifts of his race, intensified, slicing through the tension like blades. The air was thick with the scent of impending danger.
Ventus, cloaked in confusion, stammered, “Wha… What should we do?” The rapid shift in circumstances left him reeling, unprepared.
“Utter not a word. Just listen,” Thorian commanded with unwavering resolve. This was no time for idle talk; their very lives hung in the balance.
“Godammit!”
Suddenly, a clash of steel and a heavy thud echoed from Forlune's direction. Thorian, despite turning towards the sound, knew better than to cast his spells recklessly. His magic was more likely to harm his allies than strike the elusive Thri-kreen they faced.
I need to draw its attention, Thorian thought, a plan forming rapidly in his mind. Without a second's delay, he dashed away from his companions, creating a safe distance. Then, with the skill of a seasoned mage, he conjured fire spells, his hands dancing with flames.
“Come and fight me, you cowardly beast!” Thorian roared, hurling his spells indiscriminately, taunting the unseen enemy to engage him directly.
Despite the cacophony of his own spellcasting, Thorian’s ears remained razor-sharp. He meticulously dissected every sound, every subtle vibration in the air, alert for any hint of the abnormal.
Abruptly, a thud to his right seized his attention. In a mere heartbeat, he sensed a presence towering over him. Foolish creature, Thorian thought, a smirk curling his lips.
Summoning his Emberstrike’s unique power, he mentally commanded, Flare Burst! Instantaneously, a searing inferno erupted from within him, engulfing the immediate vicinity in a ravenous blaze.
A piercing shriek rent the air as the Thri-kreen collapsed to the ground. The distinct sound of its fall told Thorian all he needed to know about its location.
“Water Prison,” he murmured, channeling his magic into the spell. The ensuing shrieks and screams confirmed its successful cast. With a triumphant smile, Thorian raised his Emberstrike Cane, aiming precisely at the trapped enemy.
Lord’s Fury: Elemental Embodiment. Flames, he mentally intoned. Fire surged around him, converging at the tip of his staff. Fire Stream, he concluded, releasing the spell with lethal precision.
The resulting explosion was marked by a final, agonized scream. The formidable Thri-kreen lay vanquished. Notifications flickered before Thorian’s closed eyes, piercing the darkness with their luminescence.
Congratulations, You have slain the special Instance Boss: The Psion Thri-kreen.
You shall now receive rewards worthy of your accomplishments.
Upon reading these messages, Thorian cautiously opened his eyes. Before him, flames danced triumphantly, casting light upon the scattered remnants of the Thri-kreen's charred remains.
The defeated corpse of the instance boss disintegrated into a myriad of glittering lights, scattering and vanishing with the wind like ethereal dust. In its place materialized a treasure chest, enigmatic and inviting.
"King, is it done?" Forlune's voice cut through Thorian's contemplation, redirecting his attention to his companions. They stood tense, weapons still drawn, their eyes shut tightly, their postures radiating unease.
"You may all open your eyes; the threat has been neutralized," Thorian declared, his tone steady and reassuring.
At his assurance, a wave of relief swept through the group. They exhaled collectively, eyes blinking open, as they sheathed their weapons.
Drawing closer, still tinged with bewilderment, Zogarth inquired, "My lord, what nature of creature was that?"
"A Psion Thri-kreen," Thorian explained. "A being whose gaze ensnares you in an unbreakable illusion, filled with your deepest fears. Only a high-tier purification spell or the creature's death can shatter the illusion."
"How in the seven hells…" Zogarth's voice trailed off, choked with dread. The idea of such a being's existence in their world was almost too terrifying to comprehend.
The group's gaze lingered on the scene of the battle, each of them grappling with the gravity of what might have happened. Had Thorian not been so swift and decisive, or had they hesitated even for a moment, the outcome could have been catastrophic.
The weight of their narrow escape lingered in the air as Thorian sighed, “There are indeed terrifying beings in this world, yet a balance exists. For all its fearsome illusionary powers, this creature's offensive and defensive capabilities were notably limited.”
“Even so, such a being could dramatically alter the course of a battle,” Aqua pondered aloud. A spark of intrigue lit his eyes, and a sly grin crept across his face. “Imagine if we could somehow subjugate such a creature. It would be a formidable asset.”
Thorian, taken aback by the suggestion, couldn’t help but chuckle. “An ambitious thought, but fraught with challenges. For starters, Psions are a rarity among Thri-kreens. Our encounter was due to this being an instance boss, summoned by my quest and the activation of a territory altar.” He paused, exhaling deeply. “Moreover, communicating with Thri-kreens is no simple task; it would require a specialist.”
“You’re reaching too far, Aqua,” Forlune interjected with a laugh. “Wasn’t this ordeal terrifying enough for you? Now you wish to seek more?”
His jest cut through the lingering tension, prompting laughter and light-hearted banter among the group. The immediate danger had passed, and none were keen to court further dealings with Thri-kreens.
“Is that a treasure chest I see, king?” Ventus, less engrossed in the discussion, directed their attention to a more thrilling prospect. “I'm curious about its contents.”
“We shall find out,” Thorian replied, a smile playing on his lips. He lifted the lid of the chest, and a golden glow bathed their faces.
Inside laid three items: two orbs and a parchment, each hinting at secrets yet to be uncovered.
As Thorian examined the two orbs, he couldn't help but feel pleased. The magma and lightning orbs, both of high purity, were indeed valuable. These will be excellent for my collection, he thought. Once our blacksmith attains the necessary level, he'll be able to harness their full potential.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Turning to Ifrit and Ventus, Thorian proposed, “I’d like to claim these orbs. In return, the next magma and lightning skills we come across will be yours.”
“Fair enough,” Ventus replied with a nonchalant shrug. “I prefer skills anyway.”
Ifrit added, “Agreed. And as our king, your needs take precedence.”
Satisfied with their agreement, Thorian then shifted his attention to the parchment.
Automatic Mana Crossbow Blueprint Skill Requirements Blacksmith II Material Black Iron, Thunder Strings, Elder Wood, Mana Stones. Equipment Type Watchtower Description The Automatic Mana Crossbow is a village-item for watchtowers, designed to target and shoot at enemies within a 200-meter radius automatically. It fires bolts of mana, with the shot capacity before recharge dependent on the product's quality. Mana stones, which need regular replacement, power its ammunition.
“Well, this is a delightful find,” Thorian remarked with a light chuckle, passing the blueprint to Zogarth.
As Zogarth and Forlune scrutinized the blueprint, amazement dawned in their eyes. “This is exceptional,” Zogarth exclaimed. “With these, our wall guards' burden would be significantly lessened.”
Forlune, while impressed, voiced a critical concern, “It’s a remarkable item, but do we have a blacksmith skilled enough to construct it?”
Thorian's expression softened with a knowing smile. "Indeed, we have someone capable," he responded, his thoughts drifting to the blacksmith, Faber. "I'll discuss it with him upon our return to the village."
Zogarth, handing back the parchment, couldn’t help but express his admiration. “You always think several steps ahead, my lord.”
Securing the blueprint in his pouch, Thorian led the group back towards Wolvendale. En route, he diligently collected herbs for his magus quest and honed his skills in body enhancement and elemental control. Despite these additional tasks, their remarkable speed ensured that the journey to Wolvendale took no more than half an hour.
Upon entering the village, Thorian's primary objective was to complete his magus quests, followed by a visit to the Village Hall to collect additional rewards.
Inside the Village Hall, Thorian promptly submitted his outstanding daily quests. He then claimed his reward for Sovereign’s Dominion:
Territory Attribute Unlocked All existing and future houses within your territory, as well as those of your vassals, shall now grant a timed boost in experience gain. The duration of this boost correlates with the amount of time spent within the house, while the percentage increase in experience depends on the house's tier and quality.
As Thorian perused the notification, a satisfied smile played upon his lips. Yet, just when he believed he had received all the rewards, another notification flickered into existence:
Hidden Reward Unlocked In accordance with the karmic shift pact, an additional reward is bestowed. Each time Wolvendale ascends in rank, a new territory attribute will be unlocked.
Thorian’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. I had nearly forgotten about that. But who could have imagined the hidden reward would be this impressive? Should the forthcoming attributes be remotely similar to the Ether Line Nexus, our territory might very well become the most coveted in the world. People from all corners would flock here, eager to reap its benefits.
Lost in his musings, Thorian chuckled and shook his head, grounding himself back in reality. Still, we have a considerable journey ahead before our rank escalates to that of a full town. It’s premature to revel in such fantasies.
Regaining his composure, Thorian turned to leave the Village Hall when a familiar figure near the gate caught his attention. Approaching the silver assassin, Alacritas, Thorian noted the complex interplay of emotions on his face. “It seems you've made a swift recovery, Alacritas,” he remarked, observing the assassin's markedly improved aura.
Alacritas immediately bowed, his voice tinged with remorse. “I am so terribly sorry, my lord. I have failed you.”
Thorian dismissed his apology with a shake of his head. “Don't dwell on that. What I need to know is what exactly transpired. Explain to me the cause of this mishap.”
Alacritas took a moment to collect his thoughts before he began. “My lord, upon making eye contact with that green lady, I felt utterly incapacitated. My thoughts were ensnared, and I couldn’t act of my own volition.”
Thorian's expression shifted to one of understanding, tinged with irony. As I suspected, it was the eyes of deception, he mused silently. “But how did you come to encounter her? I was explicit about avoiding the Strongheart’s manor.”
“I would never intentionally disobey your orders, my lord,” Alacritas hastened to clarify. “We encountered her while monitoring William Ravenwood, the lord of Locksley, not at the Strongheart’s manor.”
The mention of William Ravenwood sent a ripple of disquiet through Thorian. What is her connection to William? Is she merely observing him, or is she planning something more insidious? The situation in Locksley seemed increasingly convoluted, and Thorian felt a tightness in his chest.
Dismissing his rising concerns for the moment, Thorian focused back on Alacritas. “What matters now is that you and your team are safe and have recovered.”
Alacritas bowed slightly, gratitude evident in his voice. “Thank you for your concern, my lord.”
“We will discuss this in more detail tomorrow,” Thorian said, placing a reassuring hand on Alacritas’s shoulder. “For tonight, rest is your priority.”
Upon leaving the Village Hall, Thorian had one more destination in mind before returning home. In a swift movement, he found himself outside the Blacksmith’s Workshop. The sight of smoke still billowing from the chimney at this late hour reassured him.
Good, he's still working, Thorian thought, stepping confidently into the forge.
Inside, he found Faber engrossed in his craft, putting the final touches on a magnificent blade. The hilt was fashioned from elderwood, and the blade shimmered with the lightning-infused metal they had acquired from the Thunderous Citadel.
Faber, startled by Thorian's sudden appearance, greeted him warmly. "Oh, my lord, I hadn't noticed your arrival."
Thorian, drawn to the craftsmanship of the blade, approached. “This sword looks remarkable. May I inspect it?”
“Certainly, my lord,” Faber replied, offering the sword to Thorian with a hint of pride. “It is the pinnacle of my work thus far.”
As Thorian scrutinized the sword, he was taken aback by its rarity – a Yellow Storm. Handing it back to Faber, he couldn't hide his amazement. “You’ve truly excelled as a blacksmith. Have you advanced your class?”
Faber nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, my lord. I am now a magic blacksmith. Additionally, I've evolved into a kobold blacksmith, gaining a skill that enhances my chances of crafting items of higher rarity.”
Thorian chuckled, genuinely pleased. “That’s excellent news. Your progress will undoubtedly be a tremendous asset to us all.”
Presenting the two orbs he had recently acquired, Thorian placed them in Faber's hands. “I've come with a specific request. I need you to forge a weapon for me, utilizing these and all the high-purity orbs we have.”
Faber looked staggered by the enormity of the task. “But my lord, that might be premature. I haven't yet mastered working with such high-quality materials.”
“That’s why you will undergo training,” Thorian replied with unwavering certainty. “I will provide you with all the medium and low-quality orbs we possess for practice. The results will still benefit our magi, so nothing will go to waste.”
Faber stood speechless, absorbing the weight of Thorian's words. After a moment, he found his voice. “To entrust me with such resources... Why, my lord?”
“Because I need a weapon,” Thorian said, a confident smile playing on his lips. “The most formidable and powerful weapon you can create.”
Faber straightened up, a newfound determination in his eyes. “Your trust honors me, my lord. I will not let you down.” He then asked in a softer tone, “When do you require this weapon, my lord?”
Thorian's expression grew solemn. “I need it within three days.”