Chapter 52: Chapter 52: Ice and Fire Two Realms
Louis entered the Magic Marrow Factory with the company, and an acrid alchemist smell immediately assaulted his nostrils.
He raised his hand in a greeting: "Good morning."
In the corner, Hillco, with heavy dark circles under his eyes, glanced listlessly at the odious Slave Master.
"Good morning, sir," his voice carried a hint of complaint, as he casually handed over a fist-sized crude clay pot.
Louis took the heavy pot, which appeared unadorned, with a strip of linen inserted in the mouth, looking roughly made as if casually molded.
He frowned: "Is this it?"
Hillco explained lazily, "Don’t be fooled by its plain appearance; it’s filled with dangerous items.
Demon Marrow, Ice Armor Bear Crystal Residue, Fire Floss Grass, all packed inside.
The power is not small, and of course, if given more time, I can make it more delicate and even stronger."
"Since you say so, let’s try one out," Louis raised an eyebrow, looking towards the already prepared experimental field.
Several Magical Beasts were tied at various places in the field, struggling and making uneasy growls.
The Knights donned specially made protective masks, lit the fuse, and threw out the Magic Flame Bullet.
The clay pot spun in the air, tracing an arc, and accurately smashed into the center of the experimental field.
Boom!!
First Phase: Cold Blast!
The moment the Magic Flame Bullet exploded, a blue light flashed, the Ice Armor Bear Crystal shattered, releasing an extremely cold air current!
The air abruptly contracted, as if the entire space was violently pulled tight by an invisible hand.
The fur of several Magical Beasts frosted instantly, their limbs twitchingly curling up.
Then they were forcibly dragged toward the core of the explosion by a strong suction!
They emitted shrill wails, hooves clawing at the ground frantically, unable to break free.
Second Phase: Fiery Blast!
Just as they were about to break free from the cold current’s grip, the next disaster struck.
The Demon Marrow spontaneously ignited, and fierce flames burst forth.
Fire Floss Grass fluff, as if catalyzed by some invisible force, madly devoured the oxygen in the air!
Flames like a layer of flowing liquid adhered tightly to the Magical Beasts, spreading along their fur.
Like bloodthirsty snakes boring into every skin seam, frantically gnawing at flesh.
"Awooo—!!"
The eyes of one Magical Beast were burned by flames, exploding in an instant, body fluids evaporating into a wisp of white smoke, the hot air expelled from its mouth and nose rapidly transforming into dry dust.
The air was filled with the nauseating stench of charring and burning, making one want to retch.
Third Phase: Poisonous Corrosion!
Black smoke slowly rose.
This was not ordinary embers, but the toxic gas released after the Demon Marrow burned!
The affected Magical Beast first convulsed violently, limbs twitching wildly, screams from throats being squeezed out.
The flesh on the wounds began to quickly fester, as if torn by invisible hands, revealing ghastly bones.
They struggled, howled, rolled, and finally—
Silence.
Ashes scattered, the air imbued with a strong sulfur and burnt decay odor, lingering.
The scene was in complete disarray, charred remains embedded in the soil.
Even the earth had been burned a deep brown, faintly shimmering, this land seemed to be tainted by death.
Louis stood silently, gazing at the scene of desolation for a long time without speaking.
Sif, pale-faced, couldn’t help but clench her fists.
She had seen slaughter, seen bloodshed, and even been on the battlefield personally.
But she had never seen killing like this.
Silent, yet utterly stripping away all life.
Hillco, however, showed a strange expression, part pride, part heartache.
He blinked his bloodshot eyes, rubbing his sore neck from staying up, and sighed:
"The power is indeed impressive...but sir, the material cost for this one alone is a full four hundred Gold Coins."
He looked at the scorched earth as if staring at a pile of burning, golden coins, heartbroken as if it was his money spent.
Hearing this, Louis finally snapped back to reality, turned, and asked, "How many do we have left?"
"Seven," Hillco sighed, "Any more and we’ll be out of materials. After all, the Ice Armor Bear Crystals you brought were only so much."
"A name?"
"Haven’t thought of one."
Louis surveyed the lifeless land, his gaze passing over the still-burning black embers, a slight smile on his lips.
"Let’s call it ’Ice and Fire Two Realms.’"
Hillco nodded, thinking the name quite fitting.
Louis reached out to lightly tap the rough clay pot of the bomb.
This was his ultimate trump card.
......
Count Fos sat on the luxurious chair of the Count’s Mansion, his fingers unconsciously rubbing his chubby chin, his face full of anxiety.
"Damn rubbish! Commanding bandit suppression... What do I know about these things!"
It was clear that this sudden task had frightened him.
Inherited the title from his father less than two years, now tasked to eradicate the Snow Swearer, a joke?
The name Snow Swearer was something he’d often heard, notoriously fierce.
His father, the previous Count Fos.
A war-heroic Northern Territory general, ruled Snow Peak County for decades, making the Northern Tribe tremble.
But himself?
Only a fatty forced to inherit the title, unable to even sit firmly on a horse, let alone leading troops into battle!
"My Lord Count, this isn’t necessarily a bad opportunity."
It was his counselor speaking, a man with a face full of schemes.
"Think about it, eradicating Snow Swearers is Duke Edmund’s order. All Northern Lords must respond, especially those Pioneer Nobles from the South."
Count Fos frowned: "What do you mean?"
The counselor leaned closer and whispered: "You can send them to their deaths directly.
These Southern Nobles are inherently weak, their foundations unstable.
And with this high-risk mission to weed out the Snow Swearers, if arranged appropriately, and they handle the most dangerous tasks, their forces will be depleted.
Once they suffer heavy losses, you can then as Count absorb their lands and resources; why not?"
Count Fos’s eyes widened; such a possibility didn’t occur to him.
The counselor continued emboldening his plot: "Besides, you know, the old Nobility of the Northern Territory have little favorable views on these Southerners.
If they all perish, the Northern Territory will fully return to the hands of true Northerners.
And those who look down on you, thinking you got the County due to your father’s shadow, unable to govern Snow Peak County properly, what would they say?
They would have to confess they misjudged you, that you are the true ruler of Snow Peak County!"
Count Fos paused for a few seconds.
Then a sinister smile grew on his face.
"Makes sense."
He raised his goblet, gently swirling the liquid inside.
Already envisioning the scene of the Southern Nobles being swallowed by snow and ice, himself being revered by thousands.
"Alright, let’s do it as you say."