Blacksmith of the Apocalypse

A vast plain of burned soil. Carbonized remnants of bushes reaching to the sky like dried-up limps and weirdly colored flames of burning gas characterized the view of the first Abyss world Al and Seth entered.

The blacksmith sighed as he couldn't quite get used to calling the demon worlds the abyss. he had gotten too used to calling the dungeon-infested caves of the Adventurer Guild's Holy Land the abyss. The name fit much better than describing a bunch of worlds ruled by an alliance of demons...

“You don't have to worry about the little snake. This is a sign that he will jump over the dragon gate in the near future,” Al'Zalsar reassured him.

He and the sorceress had engaged in idle talk as they passed through the branch of the Guardian tree and exited to this world, through the sapling on this side. Somehow their conversation landed on Tatzel after Seth lamented that the little quasi-dragon had suddenly fallen into a deep slumber and had not woken up in the past four days.

Seeing how the little Imugi had also consumed over two-thirds of the giant dragon skeleton had almost caused him a heart attack. he couldn't help but worry, after all the bones were so cursed that he had doubts about ever being able to use them as crafting material. If Tatzel got sick because of it...

“This is a great opportunity for him and as long as he manages to overcome it, he will be able to grow past the confines of his story. It was not much different for me,” Al'zalsar harped on. Seth looked at the sorceress surprised. This was the first time she talked about her own background.

“What do you mean?” Seth asked curious, especially since she mentioned something about the story. Since he had finally stepped on the path to legend, Al'Zalsar was able to speak to him freely about her own experiences and the way to become a legend.

“Sometimes, based on heritage or special circumstances, there will be hurdles on the path, that we need to overcome before we can succeed,” Al said something that sounded very generic. “I see that you don't really get it. hmm, well, in my case, it was that I was killed by a dragon.”

“What?” Seth asked her stumped. Of course, he knew that she was killed by a dragon at some point, hence her hatred for dragons, but what had that to do with anything?

“When on the path of legend, your losses and victories become part of your legend, at the same time they also become part of the legend of the one who beat you or lost to you. So when I was killed by a dragon before accomplishing my ascension, my loss became part of his legend and hindered me from becoming one on my own.

So, to become a legend, I had to kill the dragon that murdered me. That's a special condition created based on our actions and circumstances. For your dragon, it's the definition of his existence. An Imugi can grow incredibly strong and dragon-like, but they need a catalyst to make the jump to become a true dragon.

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

What that catalyst is, if obviously not defined but I would guess the ancient dragon core would be one. So your Tatzel is probably in the middle of turning into an actual dragon,” the sorceress explained to kill time.

Currently, they had no destination. The whole area was empty and they were wandering aimlessly to see if they could find someone or something that could guide them. Not even Al’Zalsars spell couldn’t detect a living being in the vicinity.

“This seems like the time to use the cloak,” the blacksmith finally said, after they walked aimlessly across the landscape. This was no system world, so the didn’t really help. Even if it worked, it wouldn’t have conveniently pointed toward a settlement or something like that.

“Follow me,” Seth told the sorceress as he put the hood of the slightly see-through Cloak of Hekate on his head. Trusting his items, the blacksmith was not overly concerned. The cloak could point him in the right direction, while the Alniyat cuisses would help him with safe travels.

Taking advantage of the massive agility and movement speed boost the Scorpion armor gave him; Seth began sprinting across the burning steppe. As a Kin of Fire, he was even less concerned about the flames he passed, than the possibility of running into wild monsters or unfriendly strangers.

“Wow, you are really quite fast with that armor,” Al commented, floating right beside him, keeping up with his speed. Flying in a laid-back posture, made it clear that the sorceress had no problem keeping up with his speed, using her flying spell.

At some point, Seth suddenly felt a soft weight on his shoulders as a slender pair of long legs crossed in front of his chest. Al’Zalsar had taken a seat on his shoulder. The smooth legs stimulated the imagination and the blacksmith began to regret having opted for plate armor.

“Carry me for a while, I will save my mana in case something unexpected appears,” the sorceress spoke softly. Seth could hear the silent, cheeky laughter in her voice. She knew exactly what she was doing. Sorceress? More like a temptress.

How did Seth know she was doing it on purpose? He was the one who created the base of the vessel she inhabited. Seth knew exactly how heavy the frame was supposed to be. The sorceress was using magic to lighten herself to just the right weight, as she rode his shoulders.

Fighting his intrusive thought for another hour, Al’s magic finally picked up something in the direction he was running. They soon approached a giant structure that looked like organically grown stone.

It was a table mountain that would strike fear in the hearts of those with trypophobia. The several steps and terraces of the structure were covered in irregular holes and pools, filled with bubbling fluids of various colors. He called it a structure, because it clearly stuck out from the surrounding landscape, like something man-made.

They were still quite far away, but thanks to he was able to clearly see the details. As he was watching, he managed to observe a claw punching out from the surface of a venomous moss-green pool. The hairy claw clung to the rugged ridge of the hole and a demonic beast emerged from the waters.

Looking like the mix of a bear and a monkey, its face had no other features except the three maws that made up the front of the skull. The remnant fluid gave its reddish fur an ugly tint as it began orienting itself in this new world.

Although didn't function, still seemed to work. Its perceived level was tremendous for something that seemed to be a newborn. But who knew what was actually beyond those pools?

“I think this is the place they use to spawn the beasts for the hell gates,” Al'Zalsar made an educated guess, as more monsters of similar makeup kept emerging from the moist pores of the mountain. All of them were around lv.90, according to the system skill, but their attributes and danger level were probably even higher.

“Yes, these are one of the birthing pools of Athrometa,” a foreign voice suddenly spoke. Although it sounded like it was right beside them, they were projecting their voice. The figure speaking was actually a demon standing among the beasts.

This was technically the archetype of a demon. They had smooth, amphibian-looking red skin, a muscular humanoid body, a pair of bat wings, a pair of black, straight goat horns, and a long, forked tail. They wore a loose robes, like a bath robe, that didn't leave much to the imagination.

“I did not expect visitors, much less humans. Pray, tell, what brings you here?”

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