Dungeon of Niflheim

Chapter 458

458 Chapter 458: Poison

‘Poison!’ Frost screamed internally, his lips twitching and his fists tightening around his glaive as the memory of his first interaction with the dreaded stuff came to the forefront of his mind.

The pain, the paralysis, the burning in his veins, all things he never wished to experience again.

In but a fraction of a second he bashed away this poison addled barb and focused his gaze on where it originated yet saw nothing but green and shadow.

Fwoom!

Another barb shot out from behind the trees, swiftly followed by a second one flying with immense speed and fury.

Don! Don!

Frost swatted them away with difficulty, his fear of the poison allowing him to move even faster than normal but even still he was forced to take several steps backwards. His hands trembling from the residual force.

The horrid smelling and painful looking green poison that dripped from the barbs attached itself to his glaive and fought with his ice flames.

“Ssssssss” A horrid sound of the poison evaporating as it came in contact with the chilling flames rang out. The liquid poison rapidly turned into a corrosive gas that assaulted Frost’s nostrils and tingled his skin.

.....

Detesting such a feeling Frost’s ice flame chakra burst out, enveloping his entire body and forcibly extinguishing the poison from the surrounding air.

A frown was evident on his face and a cold sweat dripped down his neck yet still there was no sign of what fired these barbs, a hidden adversary that could attack from the darkness.

However, though he was wary and even fearful his mind was clear.

“Major Bullen pull everyone back now!” He roared out in desperation knowing full well that he wouldn’t be the only target. Next he started summoning his mana as a spell started to formulate.

“[Ice obey my will and form into a mighty wall separating me from thine enemy, wall of ice]” Frost spoke the aria for the 2nd circle spell [wall of ice] creating a large blue magic crest on the ground which proceeded to summon a wall of ice that separated the vanguard elites from the nearby Northrend forest.

“Tsk” Frost could hear a loud tongue clicking the moment the wall was raised and a moment later a vast swarm of lesser barbs fired from the trees, crashing into the large ice wall, cracking and even destroying parts of it. It was only a 2nd circle spell, so it didn’t provide a lot of defensive power, but it was enough to at least lessen the momentum of the barbs and allow the vanguard elites to react in time.

Dozens of barbs covered in colourful poison continued through the ice wall only to be swatted away by the elites who were experienced enough to not let the poison touch any part of skin or open wounds.

They all instantly obeyed Hamon and Frost’s orders and retreated backwards giving up all the ground they worked so hard to conquer. Remaining here served no purpose lest seeing to their deaths. This was a gruelling siege that wouldn’t be ended in the next hour or even this day. Risking their lives for ground was pointless, they were the defenders in this war.

“Frost!” Major Bullen a man riddled with an uncountable number of scars and armed with dual swords briefly glimpsed at the elites under his command before braving the danger to arrive by Frost’s side. Thanks to his quick actions a great many of the elites were protected and as the leader of the vanguard corps Bullen couldn’t allow Frost to face the highest danger alone.

A couple barbs -the same type shot at Frost- rapidly found their way before Bullen.

Ding! Ding!

Expecting to be attacked Bullen easily swatted away the barbs, losing not a single beat of momentum as he arrived by Frost’s side.

Frost smiled as he felt supported by Bullen, his fear of the poison vanishing and his grip around his glaive tightening before the two men nodded towards one another.

With that silent communication the two moved in concert, guarding each other’s blind spots as they quickly retreated, falling back towards the northern wall.

“Tsk!” Another loud tongue clicking could be heard from within the trees followed by a deep sigh and the grinding of teeth.

“He’s quick just like you said.....run them down.” A dark insidious voice filled the air before grating chittering rang amok and the owners of these dreadful barbs finally showed themselves.

Short creatures similar in size and stature to goblins, covered in dark coloured chitin and with large bug like compound eyes that could see in far more detail than the eyes of any human, dwarf or elf creeped out from the shadows. Wild insidious expressions could be seen on their rat like faces. A strange and frightening visage that screamed evil, reminding Frost of the rindars.

Sharp protruding barbs extended from their elbows, growing and dripping colourful poison, a regenerating part of their bodies that they fondly used as weapons.

Frost struggled to immediately identify these creatures but thankfully Bullen looped him in, uttering their identity with clenched teeth.

“Poison heralds.”

Creatures of the darkness that dwell in all manner of places where the sun rarely touches, despised by many species just like the rindar. Evil, insidious monsters that relish in torturing their victims. Watching them twitch in agony as their personal poison runs through their system.

A person once spoke with a poison herald and finally asked why they did such things and apparently it wasn’t just to satisfy their sadistic tendencies but like spiders their poison gradually liquefied their victims and though they could eat solid foods the taste when liquefied in their opinion was unmatched.

This person miraculously survived his run in with the poison heralds and told this story to his local guild. The [federation of knowledge], the keepers of all things known in regards to monsters, monster lairs, oddities and special realms eventually corroborated his story, adding it to the official tomes in regards to the monster species poison heralds.

Frost didn’t have time to question Bullen as swarms of the creatures rushed out from the trees holding poison covered barbs in their hands and poison splashed over their chitin carapaces making getting in close combat with these creatures risky.

A larger more menacing one with a far darker carapace and radiant green poison leaking from many pores across its body slowly revealed itself. In its hands were the deadly barbs that were flung towards Frost and Bullen it was clear this one was different from the rest. An aura of power floated around it revealing its B-rank status.

Following at its side was the eldest rindar, he was the one who ground his teeth together in disappointment, wanting so much to see Frost’s face warp in pain from the herald’s poison. He was clenching the area where one of his arms used to reside while his eyes spurted fire as he watched Frost safely retreat.

“Bastard!” He cursed through his teeth, struggling to stop himself from throwing all caution to the wind and chase after Frost but the one by his side prevented him from engaging in such foolish actions.

This poison herald was very similar to himself in nature and would like nothing more than to supplant himself into his position, raking in the glory it promised. He already had difficulty commanding the bastard with his missing arm and severe lack of progress over the past couple days. Thankfully he had his younger brothers who agreed that internal unity was better in the presence of outside influence.

The poison herald leader was just under the eldest rindar strength wise and came with a large contingent of his own lesser species but even, so his foothold was shaky at best. After hearing an abridged series of events of the past couple days and the loss of the eldest rindar’s arm he laughed chillingly and decided on their current plan. His aim, to capture Frost and severely damage the vanguard elites thus proving his superiority over the rindars.

Right now there was a fierce competition between the B-ranks for command roles, only the best would be able to avoid becoming mere pawns in the game once the big fish arrive and take over. Neither the rindars nor the poison herald wished to be at the complete beck and call of another, being treated no better than the horde of lesser monsters currently being ordered to charge to their deaths.

The B-rank poison herald sported a pronounced frown and his compound eyes analysed Frost from head to toe, taking in every slight movement gauging his strength.

Fwooom!

Suddenly another two barbs dripped in green poison were launched without warning at possible blind spot but thanks to Bullen and Frost’s teamwork they failed to reach their target, falling powerlessly to the floor, corroding the blood and flesh lain strewn across the ground.

His poison was a fast acting, highly corrosive type that literally melted whatever it touched. It was thus susceptible to antidote potions but by the time you glug one down or pour it on the infected area most the damage would have already been done.

Each poison herald would nurture their own poison resulting in a wide range of effects thus making each one unique and extra hard to deal with. In some aspects the appearance of these poison heralds was a far worse situation than the 3 rindars.

“Yes, he’s very fast and has skilled helpers. Taking him down with them around won’t be easy.” The frown on the B-rank poison herald deepened as his gaze drifted towards Hamon, the true commander of the battlefield. His arm shivered as he endured his biting gaze, a primal fear that struck to his core and sent shivers down his neck.

He then glanced at the fury consumed rindar at his side, understanding now why this person who though he would never admit it had a lot of respect for, was on the back foot in this war.

His steps that were about take him fully past the treeline and towards Frost were halted in place as Hamon’s full blown aura hammered down on him, pressuring him.

‘That bastard’s terrifying.’ The poison herald knew that he’d stand no chance if he went toe to toe with that monster, he wasn’t even a duelling type.

“Haaaaaaaaa” he let out a deep sigh before taking a step back not willing to draw the ire of that monster named Hamon so early in the game.

“You’re giving up!” The eldest rindar screamed in anger as well as complete bafflement, they had the vanguard team on the run and his lesser species kin were hounding after them but without them following, their charge would be short lived.

“Now’s not the time, besides our ambush has failed. To carry on now would only end in meaningless death. My subordinates will force them back, dishing out a few attacks before retreating. We serve best as ambushers and fighting in the shadows of others.” The poison herald sported a wild grin, proud of his talents and those of his kin.

He ignored the anger of the eldest rindar and pursed his lips, whistling in a high pitch that many who were not of his kin would struggle to hear. This was his order to retreat when necessary something the poison heralds knew well. He then turned and retreated back into the shadows waiting for his next opportunity to lash out.

Smash!

The eldest rindar smashed apart a nearby tree in his anger but that was all he could do. Though he was still technically in command the B-rank poison herald wouldn’t obey orders that didn’t serve him or his ilk well, plus the bastard was right. He couldn’t allow himself to be overcome with wrath during such tumultuous times.

He gave one last look at Hamon and the retreating Frost before joining the poison herald behind the treeline.

A thick wave of D and C-rank monsters rushed out in their place, resuming the horde’s advancement.

Frost, Bullen and the vanguard elites however had used the time to swiftly make it near the main force at the base of the northern wall and Hamon was waiting.

“Magic crops and range corps full volley, fire!” Hamon loudly ordered.

Thanks to Frost’s swift actions he didn’t need to descend from the wall putting himself at risk. The big cheese couldn’t place himself in the firing line at every little upset.

With his order a deluge of arrows and magic descended on the charging D and C-rank horde as well as the some of the less responsive poison heralds, cutting down several of their number.

After that the damaged horde met with the large main force of Furano who were braced and ready for the charge. Many monsters met their ends on the tip a spear, sword, axe or even a bo staff without even culling a single soldier or adventurer. A braced line of experienced infantry wasn’t something even heavy shock cavalry would clash against head on. They charged right into a chop shop exactly what the B-rank poison herald expected to happen.

But if anything the number of lesser monsters under their command was endless, such vast amounts of death was nothing in the grand scheme.

Dozens of additional lines of monsters charged out of the treeline, red eyed and caring little about the death of the previous lines.

And so the regular melee that everyone was used to started up again. They had survived another strategy of the leading monsters and ended up with no deaths or even injuries, Frost seemed to be a lucky star.