892 Dealing With The Dens Of Bones
In the middle of all this beautiful world, two things appeared out of order. One was looking like a dark branch of an old tree, curled and filled with wrinkles, stabbing the ground, staining it with a dark circle of decay and death.
If I was right, it was that den of bones. Was this its original form? Didn’t I get all the bones out of it?
I went closer to inspect it. Once there, a faint layer of transparent shield flashed under the rays of light coming from behind the clouds.
“Protecting yourself? From me? Hahahaha!” I looked at this pathetic attempt from this artefact.
*Splash!* binding anything required my blood, and my blood just covered up that shield, making it clearer to the eye.
Then my path inside came by a fierce hit from my glaive and that shield.
“Fire!” I didn’t plan to counter such artefact with only my glaive. In the next moment, torrents of attacks landed over this shield from my boys. I didn’t recall them, and then they just answered my call and started showering this shield with my attack.
One minute… One hour… Ten hours… One day… Five days… Ten days… This damn shield kept resisting my attacks for ten days straight.
Starting from the third day that shield started to fiercely vibrate under such an attack.
Each day I spent one hour reviving my bonus strength. I only cared about it for now, to allow me to use my beloved glaive without any hindrance.
By the fifth day, this shield started to show faint cracks. Yet like my chariot, it got healed upon itself in a flash. Yet by the eighth day, these cracks started to deepen, expanded beyond what this artefact could heal, and started to emit cracking sounds.
By the tenth day, this shield finally smashed into pieces, releasing a fierce gale of wind. I inserted my glaive as fiercely as well into the ground, resisting this brutal shockwave.
I didn’t suffer all these days, all this time to just let my trophy slip away from my hands. As I was assaulted by this heavy stinky air coming from that artefact, I started to crawl my way towards it.
Each step taken was done by the help of my glaive. I slammed it fiercely at the ground and pulled my body a few inches to the front, just like I was climbing a straight up side of a mountain.
No matter what, I kept moving forward. I ignored the pain, the horrible stench, and kept moving until my arms grew dull, and my muscles ached from such pain.
“Get in here, motherf*cker!!!” And with the last few inches left, I let go of my glaive and touched that damn artefact.
And like a broken kite, my body was sent flying for thousands of metres away before finally rolling for hundreds more.
Dammit! Why the heck was it so hard to get this artefact? Who the f*cking sick bastard built this entire pocket world?
pan-da-n0vel.com I raised my head and watched the place where that artefact was at. It was empty, it was gone, it was inside my inventory.
For now at least I was spared from its threat. Just to make sure, I opened my inventory and there I found it.
“Damn stubbornly fierce little jerk you are, ain’t you?” I couldn’t help but shake my head in helplessness before breaking out in laughter.
That jerk was lying in my inventory, unsettled, seeming enraged by me taking it inside.
It kept moving, slamming fiercely against the walls of that small space it was stored at. I even saw faint sparkles of dark grey fire emitted from time to time.
“Keep resisting, in the end you and I follow the supreme rule of the system,” I closed my inventory while taking a deep and long breath.
This war… This damn f*cking war was over, almost over.
Everything was looking good from the surface, but that weapon was still there.
I saw it. It was the second anomaly here in such a bright and green prosperous world. In such peace, the presence of all dark curtains of black purple fog was enough evidence that whatever was inside didn’t belong to this world.
It was the weapon, the last remaining thing of the past pocket hellish world. It was the thing I came here to destroy… And I would do it now.
I stood up, went to grab my glaive before walking towards that fog in steady steps. All the brutal crimes committed here were done in honour of this weapon.
It might not be the one who did all this, but it was the one responsible for it.
A king over its throne was held responsible for all the atrocities done by his minions. Even if his hands were clean and clear, he was still responsible for all the blood shed under his name.
I stood in front of this thick fog, just ten metres away. Standing here made me feel that thing wasn’t present at all.
It didn’t emit anything, no air, no vibe, not even a smell… It stood there, all in silence, without stirring up anything at the world it was inside.
“Let’s see what you hold inside,” I held my glaive, raised it in the air a couple of times, before walking towards that fog.
I expected fierce resistance from it, yet when I went inside, I didn’t find anything abnormal about it. It was just like passing through a thick cloud, with nothing to stop me from going inside.
But when I walked in, I found myself not walking in the middle of a fog. I found myself inside a small hall, one that extended for a hundred metre radius.
It was a circular hall, all filled with golden purple decorations, statues of a man who looked just like humans, yet a bit larger.
I looked at these statues, they all gave me a sad impression of a man tortured and living a hellish life.