20demayo Chapter 105 – Three Heads.
Chapter 105 – Three Heads.
Chapter 105 – Three Heads.
The dim cavern finally fell silent, save for the faint crackling of web remnants still dissolving into nothingness. Rusty surveyed the battlefield, his glowing eyes sweeping over the fallen arachnid’s massive form. The air still reeked of decay, but as a being without a nose it didn’t bother him much. Instead, he focused on assessing the aftermath.
Pieces of the corrupted arachnid were strewn across the cavern floor, faintly steaming where the radiant energy had burned away its necrotic magic. The once formidable monster, a whole rank above him, now lay in pieces. Its grotesque abdomen was partially reduced to ash, its limbs sprawled lifelessly like shattered branches.
“Well, Rusty,”
Aburdon broke the silence, as the quartet looked over the battlefield.
“Congratulations on not dying, luckily all this noise didn’t attract the other spiders, otherwise we would be in trouble.”
The monsters outside the cave seemed too afraid to peek inside. The reason likely had something to do with the D-rank monster. Rusty assumed they were hesitant to enter its territory, similar to the group of insectoid monsters he had encountered back in the dungeon. Those monsters, too, avoided invading each other’s personal space - at least until he disrupted the balance and, with Gleam’s help, eventually killed them all.
“ ( ˶°ᄆ°) ! “@@@@
“You’ve managed to reach level ten?”
Rusty ignored Aburdon and focused on his friend Gleam. A quick glance at her status screen confirmed it - she had reached level ten. This meant she could undergo another evolution. The realization prompted him to check his own status, though killing the monster hadn’t been enough to push him to the next milestone. It had, however, rewarded him with multiple levels. Now at level thirteen, he was less than two levels away from returning to the Soul Forge.
“That’s great! I wonder what the choices will be!”
“(˶ᴖ ᴗ ᴖ˶)”
Gleam was clearly thrilled with her progress; she had been stuck in F-rank for far too long. Just as before, Rusty could review her evolutionary possibilities. This time, though, Aburdon and Alexander were also present to offer their advice. Although the battle had just ended, they appeared to be safe for the moment. Rusty turned his attention to Gleam’s display to examine the possibilities for her evolution.
Lesser Horned Myrm Ant Queen
[ Insectoid ] [ E ]
A rarer horned variant of the Lesser Queen of the Myrm Ant species. Once fully grown, it becomes immobile to focus solely on producing offspring.
Lesser Mana Myrm Ant Soldier
[ Insectoid ] [ E- ]
A larger, magical variant of the Lesser Myrm Ant Soldier. While its body is only slightly larger, its carapace shines with magical energy, and it can cast low-level spells.
Magical Gleaming Ant
[ Insectoid ] [ E + ]
A direct evolution of the rare Lesser Magical Gleaming Ant. This monster prioritizes enhanced magical attacks, featuring an increased body size to accommodate its heightened mana pool.
Small Silvery Magical Gleaming Ant
[ Insectoid ] [ E- ]
A direct evolution of the Lesser Silvery Magical Gleaming Ant. While its size remains the same, its magical abilities are further enhanced by its special mana absorbing body.
“Oh? I can see the monster ranks now?”
Rusty quickly ruled out the first option, turning Gleam into a Queen. That path was incompatible with their goals. The soldier variant also posed a challenge since neither he nor Gleam wanted her to increase in size significantly. This narrowed the choices to two: an enhanced version of her current form or a seemingly stronger evolution that could potentially push her to a rank higher than Rusty’s own.
Aburdon confirmed but Alexander was slightly more skeptical.
“You want to use these half-eaten faces? Most of them are missing their eye sockets, people will think that you’re a monster.”
“I am a monster though!”
“...”
Rusty replied with a chuckle as he picked out one of the heads. The tongue lolled awkwardly, and one side of the face was nearly caved in, revealing bone beneath patches of decayed flesh. Even for his standards, this one seemed... impractical.
“I probably can’t use this one...”
After admitting that Alexander might be right, he tossed the head aside. Once on the ground it cracked and turned into particles of dust. He moved on to another potential candidate. This one was marginally better - its face was mostly intact, though the expression was locked in a growl of horror. Rusty turned it over in his hands, considering how it might look once attached to his body.
“This one isn’t the worst but... will my face be stuck like this?”
“Potentially, the possession skill has its limits.”
Aburdon replied while Rusty continued sifting through the pile of limbs and heads. Although there were a few promising options among them, he wasn’t limited to just these choices. This entire area was the spider’s lair, and deeper within, there might be other hidden treasures waiting to be discovered. After carefully salvaging three heads, Rusty turned his attention to the wreckage of the merchant convoy. Perhaps among the scattered debris, he could find something useful to aid him on his newfound adventure.
Soon he trudged over to the remnants of the merchant caravan, his heavy footsteps clanking against the stone floor. The area was littered with broken wooden crates, splintered barrels, and various other discarded wares that bore the marks of neglect and decay. Many items were reduced to little more than debris, their value long eroded by the damp and the presence of the monstrous arachnid. Still, there was a faint hope that something of importance might remain.
The first thing Rusty noticed as he sifted through the wreckage was the unmistakable stench of death. Even though he lacked a nose, the presence of decomposing remains was tangible. More corpses lay scattered among the ruins, some mutilated beyond recognition, while others appeared to have been partially consumed. Rusty grimaced as he nudged a body aside with his boot, careful not to disturb it too much.
Amid the grim scene, he stumbled across a satchel that had been hidden beneath a partially collapsed wagon. The leather bag was soaked and rotting, but its contents appeared mostly intact. Inside, Rusty found a bundle of documents, surprisingly well preserved and only stained by dried blood.
“These look important...”
The first document appeared to be a roster, listing the names of the caravan’s crew and passengers. Several names were circled, accompanied by brief annotations: apprentice blacksmith, merchant’s heir, retired adventurer. Rusty’s gaze lingered on the entry for the blacksmith apprentice. The name was somewhat visible and there was even a small description next to it, a distinctive scar on his left cheek. Rusty’s gaze shifted to the heads he had salvaged earlier. One of them bore the same scar.
“Could that be him?”
This was exactly what he needed: an identity to blend in with the locals. The man had been an apprentice blacksmith - an occupation Rusty could relate to in a way. He had no idea how long the bodies had been lifeless, but once he activated his possession skill, it might be possible to measure it from his memories.
His guides had already warned him against possessing individuals with high-profile backgrounds or known family connections. If a sibling or relative of the deceased were to suddenly show up, his entire disguise could be compromised. Fortunately, when it came to blacksmiths and other common folk, few people paid much attention. He could always claim to be someone with a coincidentally similar name and profession if questioned.
Rusty held up the scarred head, his glowing eyes scanning its lifeless features. It was eerily intact, aside from some minor bruises If the possession skill worked as intended, he’d gain not only control of the head but perhaps snippets of its former owner’s memories - enough to convincingly mimic the apprentice blacksmith’s persona.
“Alright, this one will do for now. Let’s see what else I can find here.”
The trip into the forest had been successful; he now possessed half of the puzzle. All that remained was to find the adventurer persona he needed. However, upon examining the two remaining heads and cross-referencing them with the documents, it became clear that neither was suitable.
“A shame. One belongs to the merchant heir, and the other to a criminal. It’s better if we don’t use them, Rusty,”
Remarked Aburdon, whose quick reading skills came in handy once more. The first head belonged to a criminal slave who had been in transport. Assuming the identity of a slave was out of the question for obvious reasons. The second, that of the young merchant heir, was equally unsuitable as he was far too young and almost certainly too well-known.
With that, he placed the head into his inventory, ensuring it wouldn’t decompose further. The arachnid’s body had somehow preserved the flesh of its victims, but now that the creature was dead, the natural process of decay had resumed. After securing the head, he returned to scouring the caravan, hoping to uncover more useful items. Among the wreckage, he found a pouch containing several gold coins and a few steel weapons that had survived intact.
Toward the back of the ruins, Rusty came across a partially intact crate bearing a merchant’s emblem. Inside, he discovered an assortment of tools - likely belonging to the apprentice merchant whose head he now possessed. His search continued as he tried to gather anything he could sell later but regretfully most items had been destroyed.
After a few hours, the cavern brightened with the first light of dawn, Rusty finally stepped back, surveying his findings. Gleam’s transformation continued inside him and it seemed to have started to conclude. He had a head to blend in with, some gold for trade, and a small stash of supplies. Although he was still missing an adventurer, he was a big step closer to his goal.