Chapter 23: The End of the Mad Blacksmith
"I'm not joking. I really did eat it," Tyler said with a laugh.
He wasn't lying—the Hellblade, once melted by the holy white fire, had been drawn into the soul dimension and absorbed by the nine-colored divine serpent's scale.
In other words, he had quite literally 'eaten' it.
"Fine, if you say you've swallowed my Hellblade, I'll just rip your body open and check for myself!" Aghora snarled wickedly.
No sooner had he spoken than Aghora lunged, hands like dead, twisted branches, darting for Tyler's chest. He intended to tear Tyler's belly open with his bare hands!
Of course, Tyler wasn't about to stand still and let himself be butchered. After being forged in the cauldron for so long, he felt his strength had risen to a whole new level. His body was now so tough not even a mid-grade Mortal weapon could leave a scratch! He braced his feet, bones popping and thunder crackling through the cave.
"Oxen's Thousand Fists!"
It was time to fight. Tyler was no longer the weakened victim he'd once been. He trusted in his own strength.
The cauldron's flames had made him even tougher. Even though his cultivation was only at the early Solar Core, the awakened strength of the serpent scale let Tyler face a half-Champion head-on. He couldn't allow Aghora to kill him.
And anyway, Aghora had spent nearly twenty hours burning him alive—almost an entire day and night. Tyler reasoned that after such a lengthy forging ritual, Aghora must be exhausted. This might be his only chance.
As their attacks were about to collide, Aghora suddenly twisted aside, his body contorting like a sword as he unleashed a burning-hot strike.
"Blazing Strike!"
Aghora, being a half-Champion, was a real monster. He'd combined his own spiritual flame with the attack—his claw slashed a wound into Tyler's flesh with the sharpness of a blade.
Both combatants were shocked!
Aghora was stunned to find that, even with the supernatural fire-empowered strike, he'd managed only a shallow cut. He had never seen flesh as tough as Tyler's, not even among the rare warrior tribes of the wild lands. His spiritual flame, so strong it could split iron muscle, had only managed a scratch—when his hand met Tyler's bone, it rang with the sound of colliding steel. How is his body as hard as a Mortal weapon? Aghora wondered with amazement.
Tyler was just as startled by Aghora's agility. No matter how he tried, he couldn't catch even the blacksmith's shadow. Frustration gnawed at him.
"Even with a fully awakened Solar Core, your body is like iron. No matter—it's still your death day. I'll just use your body to refine a new weapon and make up for my lost blade!" Aghora mocked. With those words, he lunged again.
"Ahhhh!"
The burning strike bit into Tyler yet again, drawing blood.
Each of Aghora's attacks left behind a fresh wound.
The situation turned desperate for Tyler. He was strong, but not as fast as Aghora. If he didn't do something soon, Aghora would inevitably kill him.
He had no choice but to take a risk.
Suddenly, Tyler closed his eyes and let his arms drop, looking for all the world as though he'd surrendered.
Seeing his foe cease to resist, Aghora sneered, "Giving up so soon, little prince?"
Not that Aghora felt any pity—seeing Tyler so thoroughly defeated, he struck even harder, his attacks blurring with speed. In an instant, he landed two more wounds on Tyler's body.
"Well, let's see how many wounds you can bear before you die!" Aghora's laughter echoed through the cave as he struck again. This time, he feinted for Tyler's front, then slipped behind with blistering speed to slash a deep gash across Tyler's back.
The sight of Tyler's injuries brought him wicked joy. He continued to attack, this time aiming for Tyler's head—intent on splitting his skull.
Now's the time! Tyler thought.
As Aghora got right in close, Tyler's eyes suddenly snapped open. He'd been waiting, holding out for this moment. Before Aghora could complete the attack, Tyler raised his arms to protect his head, but kept one palm open and ready.
The moment Aghora's hands met Tyler's arms, Tyler seized his wrists, twisted hard, and spun. With Aghora now helplessly clinging to his back, Tyler heaved him into the air and slammed him down with all his might. The hard cave floor ruptured with a thunderous boom, leaving a massive crater—Aghora lay at the center, howling in pain.
Trying to scramble free, Aghora found Tyler relentless.
He's insanely strong and fast… If I let him get up now, I may never get another opening like this again. Opportunity knocks but once! I have to finish this. Thinking this, Tyler pounced.
He descended on Aghora like a wild beast, raining down kicks and punches. Each blow landed with a force of at least a ton.
At last, Tyler stopped, panting, sweat sliding down his face. He squinted at Aghora's broken form, sprawled in the pit. Is he still breathing?
Had he just killed a foe as strong as a half-Champion? For someone at his stage, it was an incredible feat.
Aghora had already burned out his strength channeling fire into the cauldron. Even then, he'd taken Tyler to the brink. If Tyler had hesitated for even a heartbeat, Aghora would have cut him down. Only dumb luck and a single clever opening had kept Tyler alive.
Seeing Aghora motionless at last, Tyler allowed himself a moment of triumph. But then, duty called—he had to check on the eight people who'd been hanging from the ceiling.
Upon inspection, a cold realization struck him: they were already dead, their flesh and blood long since drained away.
Moving on to the iron cages, Tyler found the tormented dead—victims burned alive by Aghora's infernal fire. The sight was so ghastly he had to shut his eyes and force himself away.
Poor souls… Tyler mourned silently.
After this grim inventory, Tyler searched the cave. He scoured every nook and cranny twice, but found nothing of value—just heaps of broken copper and iron.
Then, something caught his attention. Even a typical blacksmith would be wealthy—so how could a master like Aghora be so poor? There had to be treasure here somewhere!
Then he had a thought. Tyler went to the pit and dragged out Aghora's corpse. It was now little more than a skeleton, every limb devastated.
His gaze fell on Aghora's right hand—a black iron ring encircled the middle finger.
A hunch told Tyler to pry it off. The moment he touched the ring, a cool tingle ran up his fingers.
No doubt—a storage ring!
What secrets lie inside Aghora's ring? And what is the truth behind the divine serpent lurking in Tyler's soul? Is the serpent a blessing—or just using Tyler for its own gain?
Find out in the next chapters…