80 Black Blade

Name:Headed by a Snake Author:
The vault hidden in the underground lake held rows and rows of treasures, stacked on shelves 3 high. There were weapon racks, boxes of herbs, cultivation manuals, ornate chests, and various decrepit items displayed in various states of care. And of course, there were neatly arranged piles of "spirit stones", the high-density mana rocks that cultivators enjoyed... to eat?

Tycon glanced back to Old Fool. The flood dragon had adopted a gloating expression but was at least intelligent enough not to say anything...

"Ohohoho!! Behold, the treasure vault of the White Scale sect! A collection of epochs and centuries of artifacts!!" The old fool cackled.

Tycon glared, but the gesture was lost upon the ignorant creep.

"Little White!! You may take one treasure! Choose wisely!" Old Fool warned.

After a cursory inspection, Tycon picked up a weighty two-handed hammer. It was lighter than it looked, but it was still too heavy for him to wield with any proper amount of skill.

« This looks promising. System, identify. »

[Bloodtree Stump. Second-Circle Magical Warhammer. Greatly increases the user's strength. Greatly ignores enemy target's armor and resilience. Soul bind poss--]

« --Ah, right. Disable soul-binding prompts for 30 minutes. »

[Setting change complete.]

"Korr, what do you think of this?"

Korr was staring intently at one of the treasures. After another prodding, she turned and examined the warhammer. She picked it up easily enough and swung it around, making a worrisome wooshing sound.

"Don't like it."

Tycon furrowed his brows, "May I ask... why?"

"Looks ugly."

Tycon did not understand the woman's criticism, but he didn't care to argue as he took back the weapon and set it aside. His eyes followed Korr's gaze and found the object of her adoration.

It was a very fat, white, snake-looking plush.

« System... Inquiry... Please tell me that thing's enchanted. »

[Stuffed Plush White Flood Dragon Doll, High Quality. If the user likes snakes or serpents, their enjoyment is greatly increased.]

« System, inquiry: Is it... magical? »

[Negative.]

"Korr... Do you... Want... that thing?"

It was certainly a nice thing. However, Tycon didn't quite deem it worthwhile as a single pick in a vault literally filled with magical treasure.

The woman nodded shyly, sweeping her bangs to reveal her good eye, wide, watery, and pleading.

"Old Fool, I want that," Tycon declared.

"Ohoho! Certainly, Little White, I-- eh? That?" Even the old eel was surprised.

Tycon crossed his arms, "I'm taking it. And I'll take something else, too."

The old man was taken aback, "Little White! I told you *one* treasure!?!"

"Why do you even keep something like that, anyway, you weird pervert?!!" Tycon snapped, "Stop being so stingy!"

"Bah! You can't take advantage of me! I gave BIRTH to you!!"

"Like hell you did, you old bastard! We're not even the same species! You can try that crap on your sect, but not on me!"

Old Fool turned to Korr, "Little Korr, don't mind Little White. He's at a rebellious age."

The woman nodded. She had already embraced the white plush and claimed it as her own. Tycon thought it looked more like his snake form than it did Old Fool.

"Tss. Shut it, you rotten, old, miser," Tycon growled.

The old man stroked his luxurious white beard, "This humble one prefers the term: venerable."

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"Treat that one as a gift to Korr, then. I'll choose another item for myself."

"Hmm," The wrinkled old man took a long moment of consideration, "Very well. This humble one is most magnanimous. Thou art the savior of my White Scale sect, after all."

"Right, most magnanimous." Tycon waved flippantly as he went back to searching the treasure vault.

He needed a magical weapon more attractive than the warhammer. Korr's powerful attacks greatly wore down the durability of her weapons, so he was looking for a weapon enchanted to at least Second-Circle.

...And he was not at all interested in a resulting conversation from returning the stolen Shatterspike longsword to her.

Tycon quickly glossed over a series of weapons, identifying each of them with the System. He wanted something weighty, something vicious-- something that would match Korr's class as a high-strength Berserk Knight. Finally, Tycon's eye caught a pair of axes that seemed to emit a dark and icy aura.

« How about these, then? ...System, identify. »

[Wraithbite Hackers. Paired Second-Circle Magical Battleaxes. Dealing damage to living creatures restores the user's health and stamina.]

Perfect. Korr's fighting style bordered on reckless, a demeanor that was probably lent from her class. The paired Hackers would greatly alleviate the risks and ensured her longevity in drawn-out combat.

Tycon held the axes in his hands. The weapons looked sharp, vicious, and quite intimidating. He brought them over to Korr.

"Nope," she flatly rejected them.

Tycon wanted to bash his head against the smoothed vault brick, "And why not??"

Instead of answering, Korr pointed to an unsheathed dark-metal single-edged blade about 4 fulms in length, middling between a full blade and a longsword. A bastard sword.

Upon further scrutiny, Tycon frowned. Red infernal script flashed on the metal's surface when Korr's held lantern light shone upon it at a certain angle.

« What a worrisome looking blade. System, identify. »

[Blackblade of Shahram. Third-Circle Magical Bastard Sword. Warning. The weapon is inhabited by the infernal spirit of Shahram. The weapon spirit may possess the user.]

Tycon turned, "Hey, Old Fool. Is that sword over there cursed?"

"That blade... Yes. For over two centu-- bwuuuuh?" Old Fool's mouth hung open, staring behind Tycon.

Tycon frowned. He placed his hand on his sword hilt as he slowly turned his body to once again face Korr.

She was holding the sword in both hands, staring at its upright blade only ilms away from her face.

Tycon sighed and began to explain, "Sword's cursed, Korr. If you lose in a battle of wills to the weapon spirit, I'll have to--"

In a bright flash, a raging flame twice Korr's size erupted in the vault. A creature emerged from the blaze, with the torso of a nude, four-armed, red-haired woman and the lower body of a red-scaled serpent. As the summoning fire died down, flames still coated and licked the creature's scales. The Salamander woman towered over Tycon and glowered while crossing her two sets of arms.

"This is Shahram," Korr introduced. Her own dark red hair had brightened considerably into a fiery orange-red, matching that of her weapon spirit.

Korr had subdued the sentient weapon spirit in mere seconds. What a terrifying woman.

"Charmed," Tycon said impassively.

"Is she single?" the old man inquired.

Tycon shook his head in defeat, "I'll be taking the sword as my chosen treasure, Old Fool."