Chapter 859: Heh...
That idiot, Leon Merlin, discovered the corpse of a dragon and didn't even hurry to collect its remains, wasting precious time for nothing.
Look at these scales. Plenty are damaged, but most of the intact ones remain. The patterns on these scales are naturally imbued with powerful magic. If I forge them into my Battlemage Plate, it will absolutely elevate my armor by a whole tier. Beneath Sky Rank, no one will ever break through my defenses again.
And these claws—if I fuse them into my Thunderbolt Spear, even the shields of Sky Rank warriors will be pierced in one strike...
Hahaha! By then, even the Sovereign might not be my match. I could immediately become King of the Caucasus. The glory of King Wagram will be mine to continue. Let those foolish Auckland mages tremble before our Thunderbolt Spears...
That idiot Leon Merlin just handed us the opportunity for free. What right does he have to possess the precious dragon corpse? I'll collect all the most valuable parts first—would he even dare to demand them back from me?
By then, all these spoils will belong to us, the Caucasus Battlemages. If he dares to ask for them, he's trying to rob us. Just a few broken scales are enough to rally every Caucasus Battlemage against him.
And if I show off a few intact scales, even the Caucasus Sovereign might be tempted. Would Leon Merlin still dare to ask for them?
Once something enters the mouth of a Caucasus Battlemage, you think you can snatch it back? Don’t make me laugh...
I hope that damned Leon Merlin tries to take them by force. Then we’ll have an excuse to kill him—and maybe even the Caucasus Sovereign will make a move himself...
Kempes’s face twisted into a grotesque grin. He stifled his laughter, creeping cautiously to the side of the Primordial Venom Dragon, donning a pair of steel gauntlets as he reached for a dull but intact scale...
Here, only the scales and claws are truly valuable for the Caucasus Battlemages. Collecting scales first is the best move.
None of the others had a clue. The venomous mist from the Primordial Venom Dragon soared skyward, repelling all magic and making it impossible to detect anyone sneaking to the pit’s bottom from the other side.
Both of Kempes’s hands were clad in abrasion-resistant steel gauntlets. In one hand, he gripped a gleaming knife, carefully prying up a dragon scale and beginning to cut away at the intact piece.
But the instant Kempes lifted the scale, a wisp of dark green mist shot into his hand. The steel gauntlets, famed for their durability, decayed in a blink, as if aged a thousand years—reduced instantly to worthless scrap.
Kempes’s left hand turned dark green. The skin on his fingers rotted away at terrifying speed, nails dropping off one by one, flesh dissolving into greenish liquid that dripped to the ground...
Splat...
Where the liquid struck, the earth was instantly eaten away, leaving pits and holes.
In less than a second, Kempes’s left hand was stripped to bare bone—even the bone bubbled with green foam, decaying before his eyes.
Ah...
Kempes screamed in terror, forgetting all about stealth, and bolted from the pit. His face was ashen as he stared at Droy in horror.
"Seer Droy, save me, save me..."
Kempes burst out of the pit—in barely a second, his left forearm had already rotted away, the decay spreading swiftly from his hand toward his shoulder, as if his whole arm was melting bit by bit.
Droy was startled to see Kempes rushing out from the pit’s depths, but without hesitation, he swung his Thunderbolt Spear and severed Kempes’s left arm at the shoulder.
Kempes’s elbow had nearly been eaten away; the severed arm hit the ground with a sizzling hiss. In less than a second, the whole limb dissolved into dark green pus, which bubbled and ate into the earth, spawning a swarm of grotesque, bubbling pits...
Droy breathed a faint sigh of relief. Kempes collapsed to the ground, pale but grateful—he’d lost an arm, but at least his life was spared.
Leon watched Kempes with a blank expression, not even bothering to ask why he was there. A cold smirk played at his lips.
Foolish idiot. The changes in Venomfog Gorge are all because of the toxins leaking from the Primordial Venom Dragon’s corpse. To touch it—blinded by greed. The Primordial Venom Dragon rampaged even in the Age of Gods and Demons; did you really think it would be that simple?
No sooner had Leon thought this than Kempes’s left shoulder wound began to change.
The once-bright blood was now tinged with dark green. Kempes, pale-faced, suddenly widened his eyes as if they might burst—the whites filling with red veins, and those veins slowly turning dark green.
Ah...
A scream rang out—Kempes’s features twisted in agony, his mouth and nose contorted by pain as he collapsed and rolled frantically on the ground. Waves of chaotic, violent magic flared from his body.
Droy panicked, completely unprepared for this turn. He managed to restrain Kempes’s wild thrashing, but Kempes’s magic burst from him like a punctured balloon—pure mana gushed from his body into the air.
As Kempes’s mana sprayed out, his life force rapidly faded—not just his strength, but the very flame of his life dwindled at alarming speed.
It all happened so fast. Droy barely kept Kempes from thrashing for a few seconds, but already Kempes’s life flame was guttering out, and his mana erupted like a geyser—there was no stopping it.
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The mana looked just like the venomous mist from the Primordial Venom Dragon, faintly green. Anyone could see that Kempes’s magic was already tainted by the toxin, and the corruption was spreading at a terrifying rate.
In just a few seconds, Kempes’s entire magical power was completely consumed by the toxin.
In an instant, Droy’s expression shifted. He summoned a bolt of lightning into Kempes’s body, then gritted his teeth and pressed a palm-sized black iron token to Kempes’s chest.
Within two or three seconds, all of Kempes’s mana had erupted, but the black iron token now glowed softly. The light gathered into the shape of a flame, sending gentle ripples over Kempes, stabilizing his fading life force.
Leon Merlin watched the scene, a glint flashing in his eyes.
This was a unique magic artifact of the Caucasus Battlemages—the Ancestral Talisman. Forged from minerals atop Lightning Peak that have endured ten thousand years of strikes, combined with rare materials found only in the Caucasus Highlands.
Every forging demanded a terrible price—not only were the materials exceedingly rare, taking centuries to gather, but each Ancestral Talisman required the forger to burn away years of their own life force.
Only by combining the fire of life with ancestral power could it be made—and only the Seer of the Caucasus could forge one. Each attempt, success or failure, cost at least a century of the Seer's life; if their skill was lacking, even more years would be consumed.
The success rate for forging an Ancestral Talisman was abysmally low. The few remaining in the Caucasus today are almost all relics of the past.
Only the Seer and the Caucasus Sovereign were ever qualified to possess such an artifact.
Despite the difficulty, the Ancestral Talisman had one simple, terrifying power.
Survival.
As long as the user wasn't reduced to ashes in a single blow, no matter how grave the wounds, the Ancestral Talisman would stabilize them—even soul wounds could be suppressed. As long as its power lasted, death was simply not an option.
Leon Merlin hadn't expected Droy to carry an Ancestral Talisman—or to use it on Kempes.
The Ancestral Talisman's power worked quickly. Once Kempes's mana was spent and decayed, he didn't die; instead, the toxins were expelled with the lost magic, and his flickering life force steadied.
However, Kempes now looked at least twenty years older—his eyes dulled, his skin like dried bark, his body twitching as he lay on the ground, resembling someone with only a single breath left.
The Ancestral Talisman's power kept spreading, saving Kempes from death during the toxin's final surge, but it couldn't stop his magic from being completely corroded and lost.
Kempes was now utterly crippled—not only had he lost his magic, but his physical state was worse than that of an ordinary person.
After frantic treatment and various potions, Kempes's life was finally saved.
Droy hadn't even sighed with relief before Leon Merlin let out a cold laugh beside him.
Heh-heh...
Idiot. Do you even know what the Primordial Venom Dragon is? Back in the Age of Gods and Demons, even gods bitten by it needed decades or centuries to recover. Without detoxification, any method is no different from grabbing poison barehanded.
And you thought you could sneak in and collect its remains? Pathetic. Did you really think a few anti-toxin potions would let you ignore every poison in Venomfog Gorge?
Forget the Primordial Venom Dragon's corpse—even toxins from lesser venom beasts here could kill you. Every poison in this gorge comes from the dragon's corpse. Touching it... are you in a hurry to die?