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Blacksmith of the Apocalypse

When not THE Apocalypse strikes, but all of them together, where will you be? What will you do? As Humanity faces its hardest time a playful god shows mercy(?) Follow Seth on his journey to somehow survive in whatever has become of his world. Also posting on royal road. Read up to 30 chapters ahead at https://www.patreon.com/blacksmithoftheapocalypse

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1210 Chs

729. Soul Shopping

Seth soon arrived at the familiar warehouse, where he appeared in front of the guards out of thin air. He had simply switched from the Helm of Hades to Laraweg.

"Shieldbird," Seth gave the code word, and the door to the soul emporium was opened for him.

"Tower Master, my favorite customer! It's good to see you, Seth."

Tano'Mol greeted jovially from behind the counter. The goat had become very friendly with him since he became a regular.

"What can I do for you today?" the goat asked, rubbing his hands.

"I need two souls. For one the one I had been asked for last time. The one to help with something like a charm or something similar. Did you get a fitting one? The other should improve blunt force or wielding a cudgel or mace," Seth explained.

The souls were needed for Jonah's Mask and Lydia's mace. He had already asked for one for Jonah's mask the other time but wasn't satisfied by the goat's assortment at that point.

"Right! I believe to have found the perfect soul. Look at this, It's the soul of a succubus. I had to use some of my channels to get it," the demon boasted.

The soul the goat brought out actually had a rose tinge to it, inside the sphere that allowed normal eyes to see them. Seth lifted his eyebrow in surprise when he saw that it even had a trait and an ego. Only the size was slightly lacking.

<Charmer's Soul (Medium, Epic, Ego), Crafting Material

The soul of a succubus specialized in illusion and mind magic. Trait: Natural Charm>

<Natural Charm: You are endearing to all sexes at first sight.>

The trait looked good for Jonah, although the person in question may disagree. He would have to assess the ego, but if the mask was able to cast magic independently during a fight, it would make things even better.

"This should suffice. What about one with a talent for melee blunt weapons?"

Seth didn't ask for the price or say anything more about the soul. It was his way to show his approval toward the demon, otherwise, Tano'Mol tended to become very excited and go on tangents. Especially in the current situation, Seth could go without the demon's blabbering.

"Hmm, let me see. I think I have three that come into question," the demon didn't show any displeasure at the blacksmith's attitude and quickly vanished to bring more soul spheres. Seth waited a moment and soon the demon returned with three different spheres.

"These are the souls of a Stone Monkey, a Troll Patriarch, and a Fair Ogre. All three are well known for their usage of clubs, cudgels, or maces. The ape and the ogre are epic-rated, the troll soul is only rare but massive." Tano'Mol boasted.

<Monkey Soul (Medium, Epic), Crafting Material

The soul of a Stone Monkey, known for its wine-brewing skills. The soul has talents in fighting with a cudgel or staff and some low-tier transformation magic. Trait: Handsome Monkey>

<Handsome Monkey: You grow more attractive to the opposite sex.>

What was up with that trait? More attractive by what standards? A monkey? What would happen if he made an item with that? Seth's imagination ran wild with random knowledge of monkeys from the internet. One of them being Lydia turning into an anthropomorphic wolf with bright red butt cheeks... He was tempted, just for the sake of it, but ultimately decided against this soul.

<Prolific Troll's Soul (Massive, Rare), Crafting Material

The soul of a troll who fathered many children and knew especially well how to wield his club. Trait: Sexual Tyrannosaurus>

<Sexual Tyrannosaurus: Unlimited Stamina when doing the funny business.>

Seth stared at it for some time with a deadpan expression before moving on. This definitely wasn't the soul for Lydia's bat. Now his hopes lay with the last one.

<Oni Maneater's Soul (Big, Epic), Crafting Material

The soul of an Ogre that killed so many people with his club that he evolved to a higher species. Trait: Kanabō Demon>

<Kanabō Demon: Any blunt club turns into a vicious murder weapon in your hands.>

This was the one, no questions asked. Seth didn't know what exactly a Kanabō was, but it had to be a kind of club, obviously. The description of the trait convinced him.

"Okay, pack up the succubus, the troll, and the fair ogre soul for me," Seth said with a stoic face.

"Didn't you say you only wanted two souls?" the goat asked playfully.

"Are you seriously complaining about business right now?"

Although the demon didn't say anymore as he packed up the souls, Seth imagined seeing a smug smile around the goat's lips.

"Anything else? If not, that will be 50 Gold."

Seth clicked his tongue. Good souls really weren't cheap to get unless he hunted them himself. In exchange, the chance to get a soul with a trait was a lot higher when buying from a merchant, than when hunting one himself. He had been lucky on his trip to the Holy Land, but usually, the quote of souls with a trait or useful skills was a lot lower when he personally went out to hunt them.

Although traits were a little nebulous in their effects, they were a precious effect to acquire. They offered passive improvements that could be much more powerful and overarching than most passive skills.

When making an item for his friends, using a soul with a fitting trait was preferable, although he didn't intend to let himself be bogged down by not having one on hand. He paid his dues and quickly left the shop, vanishing into the darkness of the shade district.

The Tower Master had not returned when yet another guest appeared at the doors of the embassy. He was a lot more unassuming than the suspicious hooded figures. It was an old man, wearing a slightly disheveled suit.

Life was harsh on the poor fella, as he was far from an endearing-looking old bloke. His face was hard to look at, but he still held his head high with a self-confident smile. There was an intelligent glint in his gaze that didn't fit his weathered looks.

"Stop, Sir. What is your business in the embassy?," the Oathguard at the door stopped him.

"My Name is Bartholomew Cromwel, a former researcher at Zeontech. I have important information Minas Mar will be interested in," he stated politely.

"Sir, we have to check your status first, if you wish to enter. Please cooperate."

"Well, you can try, but I am sorry. I doubt observation skills will work on me. I have a peculiar trait that blocks recognition by system skills," he acquiesced to have the skill used on him, but as he said, it didn't work.

"Since this is the case, I have to ask you to wear this bracelet if you wish to enter the embassy. It's only a magic inhibitor and poses no harm."

Cromwell observed the item for a moment before he agreed to let the man put it on him. He didn't mind, since it probably was unable to block his skills anyway. The bigger hurdle was whether he would be able to survive passing through the weird barrier that filled him with existential dread.

"Thank you, Sir.- You can enter now," the guard told him and stepped out of the way.

The researcher nodded and stepped towards the barrier. This was a do-or-die moment, an experiment so to say. He was sure the ordinary infected had no chance of surviving, but he doubted it would kill him or the recipients of the completed serum.

That he would survive it, didn't mean it would not hurt... Straightening his shoulders he stepped through the membrane and, as expected, it hurt like hell. It was like he was shot with billions of tiny lasers, or poked with needles all over his body as he stepped through it.

The surface of his body was turned dark by sudden necrosis, but the moment he emerged on the other side, it already healed. For an onlooker, it would have looked like he had been covered in a weird shadow for just a fracture of a second. Like a glitch in the matrix.

It was only thanks to his previous experience of being ripped apart tens of times during his journey when fighting the monsters of the mountain range. At this point, he had perfected splitting his mind from the pain his body perceived.

Despite feeling how his skin was turned to ashes, there was no sign on his face or stature. Only the almost invisible trails of dust he left behind bore witness to his injury.

Confidently he stepped to the counter and stated his business. After a while, he was asked to take a seat. The higher-ups were going to meet him, but they were currently occupied by another guest.