Abyss Progenitor

"So, you are telling me this fake dragon egg killed two of my subordinates and crippled the rest?" an imposing old man who wore shining, blood-colored armor looked down on the nobleman, who was on his knees, looking down in fear.

"I wouldn't call it a fake dragon egg…" he mumbled, but a moment later regretted ever speaking.

A harsh slapping sound followed after his words, as the nobleman rubbed his face, which by this point was filled with red handprints.

"Of course it isn't! It is just an egg-shaped mass of metal! If it really was a dragon offspring, the moment the parent of the egg sensed you all, it would have rushed here at top speed! You bet that you would have been dead within minutes of spotting it in your field of vision! But to think those two didn't have the critical thinking of a common Ranker!" the imposing man then landed another harsh slap on the nobleman. 

The armored man then glanced over to the two women, who lay on stretchers with dried-up blood all over their faces.

"Tsk. What am I going to do with those two? They were a promising Summoner and Mage, yet their Espher Pathways are almost all crippled. The cost of nursing them back to health will be astronomical! I might as well just nurture another set of them!" the old man seemed to become more irritated as he spoke.

"Em…if you would permit me to speak…" the nobleman quietly asked.

"What is that? If it is another pointless rant, you bet I will cut off your tongue." the man threatened.

"I wouldn't dare!"

"It is just that…if a great Ranker wishes, I can buy those two from you for a pretty penny…" the nobleman said quietly as he ducked down, shielding his face.

However, the expected slap didn't come, as the nobleman looked up to see a satisfied grin on the old man's face.

"I thought you wouldn't ask! So many local lords have been complaining about a lack of product after the crackdown on the market. Those two might actually sell for a good price while showcasing my goodwill! Good job you useless crap!" the old man beamed a wide smile that creeped out the nobleman to the core.

"Of course! Of course! But what would you like to do with that egg?" the nobleman asked with evident greed in his eyes.

"If it were an actual mass of pure silver. You bet I wouldn't have even bothered to talk to you. Instead, I would have fried your tender body the moment it was confirmed to be silver." the old man chuckled innocently, as if he were talking about an everyday errand.

"Ha…Ha…" the fat nobleman couldn't help but shield his face again.

"However, I got some competent mages in my corps. So you will walk away alive and with two fine pieces of meat ready to be sold!" the man patted the fatty on the head.

"Can I perhaps inquire what it actually is?" the nobleman asked with some hope, but only received a crisp slap in return.

"That's none of your business and if word gets out. I will fry you alive like a piggy on a festival." fatty tensed up in fear as he no longer dared to speak.

"Captain, we are done here." a figure in full blood-red armor approached, with a floating pod following behind.

"Great! I couldn't have appreciated your wind element more!" the old man grinned as the group, consisting of a dozen men, got onto two-horned green horses.

The nobleman was left standing among the rubble and two unconscious women lying on the stretchers.

"Well, at least I got something out of this." he turned to look at the women, licking his lips with a nefarious light in his eyes.

Half a day later.

The group consisting of armored men of the Ironblood Corps rushed toward the distant city on their evolved beasts.

"Captain, what will we do with the egg?" one of them asked.

"Isn't it obvious? Try to open it first ourselves and if you won't be able to, just sell it at an auction." 

"But that thing survived the full combined effort of an entire party! How can we open it?" the man asked with some doubt.

"Are you a dimwit or what? You can't always solve things with violence. Especially when you are clearly weaker than the target!" the captain scoffed.

The group approached the tall and imposing walls of a grand city. Hundreds of guards were lined up on the walls and the ground, as the entire city seemed to be coated in the aura of fear and despair.

The men's throat's became dry, as they also despised the recent events.

"Damn cultists, if not for them unleashing the plague, our numbers wouldn't have diminished so much." one of them spoke, tightening their rein on the horses.

"We can't do anything about this. At most, pack up our things and take away all the money we can." the captain remarked somberly.

"Cap, why don't we just pillage the nearby towns and villages? The city has been weakened alongside the city lord's estate." 

"We can, but only after selling every immoble asset in the city."

"But Cap, who is going to buy anything in the dying city? We should just rob them all and leave while we can." the man seemed anxious to leave as fast as possible.

"You think robbing the city would be forgiven? It is okay if we kill insignificant townsfolk, but city citizens hold a special status. Don't forget we can't run amok on someone else's territory. The city lord's forces might have been weakened, but as an individual, he can wipe out all of us by himself." the captain shot a warning glare at the man.

The group eventually entered the city with much scrutiny. Streets were filled with dying people and corpses. Medics in full bodysuits tried to do their best, but the only job left for them was to bury people.

The Ironblood Corps arrived in front of a compound, as the pod floated in under the watchful eyes of the group. 

"Hey Doc, I need your help." the captain walked into the candlelit hall, letting the pod fall with a thud.

"Oh? A new toy?" the next moment, a shadowy figure with a fox-like expression appeared beside the vessel, his antique-looking glasses switched lenses as he examined the pod.

The corps observed the man warily, as the captain looked at him with evident distrust.

"Hey, don't look at me like that. You came here because you need me." the sly man remarked with a smile.

"We came here because others are dead." the captain sharply retorted.

"Well whatever, do you want to hear something about this thing?" the sly man seemed to become more lively with each word, as he brought out a folding fan, waving at himself with glee.

The captain didn't say anything further. He threw a small pouch on the ground.

The sly man didn't mind. Then the pouch reappeared in his hands, as if teleporting.

"I hate this kind of people." one of the men quietly grumbled.

The captain became more and more impatient, as the atmosphere became tense.

"Haha, I am not a monster to keep you waiting." the sly man chuckled, as he nimbly jumped on the pod.

"You see, this thing here is not from our world." the sly man slowly spoke, letting the words sink in. Many became confused and demanded an explanation.

"What is so not understandable about this? This thing here is a vehicle made out of metals that are not from our world. I traced the remnant Espher hidden deep within to not match with our world's Espher at all." the man explained in annoyance.

"Impossible! How can you be so sure? I bet you haven't left the Solaris Empire in your entire life!" another man shouted.

"That's why I don't like to talk with uneducated brutes." the sly man sighed.

"Well whatever it is, we are going to take it back." the captain could no longer stand still, the implications of the sly man's words were too profound, as his heart began to beat erratically.

"Is that so?" Doc smirked. The next moment, he swung his arm holding the fan. Blades shot out of it, piercing deep into several men.

"Bastard!" the captain's enraged voice sounded out, not expecting such a turn of events.

Blood-red energy spilled in waves, as many others started emitting such power.

"Oh my, so many berserkers, but don't you know that I specialize in a special kind of magic?" Doc smiled wryly, as dark energy enveloped him.

"What?! You are a cultist!" the Ironblood Corps erupted in collective shock. Fear grasped their hearts.

"I-I won't die to a cult dog!" one of the men screamed in terror, attempting to escape.

Yet, the next moment, his head separated from his body, as for the first and last time in his life, he could see his back in its entirety. 

"Careful! There are traps!" the captain shouted, charging at Doc with fury. 

The sly man simply smirked, as he moved the fan, the captain found himself unable to move, his limbs restricted by thin, blade-like threads.

Doc became even more cheerful, as he jerked his hand, random heads and limbs plopped on the ground, agonized screams were cut off as fast as they started.

"Y-You bastard!" the captain could only mouth one last curse before his head was sent tumbling down.