Chapter 89: The Molted Hunger
The clearing fell silent for only a moment—then the undergrowth rippled, and a massive head emerged. The serpent was nothing like the crude sketch on the parchment. Its scales were darker, thicker, like molten iron cooled to a sick sheen, catching flecks of sunlight in ghostly gleam. Drool hissed from its fangs as it struck the ground with a guttural rumble.
And beside it, stretched out in brittle coils, lay the shed skin—pale, hollow, and far smaller. Ethan's stomach tightened.
"It evolved…" he muttered. "That explains it."
The serpent's body writhed in agitation, muscles coiling and uncoiling as if it hadn't fed in days. Its eyes burned with predatory hunger. Every twitch, every hiss radiated raw need: it wasn't simply defending territory—it was hunting.
Ethan's grip tightened on the hilt of his blackened longsword. The blade drank in the forest's dim light, its edge whispering with faint traces of mana.
He exhaled. "System—Inspect."
A faint glimmer swept over the serpent as a translucent screen flickered before his vision:
---
[Ironfang Serpent – Evolved Variant]
Venomfang Molter
Level: 38
Rank: Peak B
Stats:
Strength: 27
Vitality: 28
Constitution: 29
Agility: 34
Stamina: 28
Intelligence: 25
Mana: 26
Traits:
Hardened Molt: Recent shedding has toughened scales beyond typical Ironfangs, reducing most blunt and glancing damage.
Venom Mist: Expels a necrotic vapor that causes rapid numbness and paralysis on contact.
Starving Predator: Driven by hunger, aggression and attack frequency greatly increased.
---
Ethan hissed between his teeth. Peak B-rank… faster than me.
The serpent didn't give him time to dwell on the numbers. Its body snapped forward with terrifying speed, fangs wide, dripping with viscous venom. Ethan swung his blade up in a defensive arc.
Clang!
Steel met fang. The impact rattled his arms, the sheer weight of the strike forcing him back several paces, boots tearing trenches in the earth. The dark blade hummed, its edge holding, but the serpent pressed down relentlessly.
Its tail lashed around, sweeping low. Ethan vaulted back just in time, the whip-crack of impact shattering a tree trunk into splinters.
"Too damn fast," he growled, circling. His sword glowed faintly as he slashed upward, aiming for the jaw. The blade struck—but sparks erupted as steel screeched against hardened scales. Barely a scratch.
The serpent hissed, mist spilling from its maw, drifting low across the clearing. Ethan gagged as the stench of rot clawed at his lungs. Even brushing against his skin sent tingling shocks through his arm.
He slashed through the mist, forcing himself to move. A shadow loomed—its coils surged forward, wrapping around his leg, then chest. With a violent squeeze, his ribs creaked like dry wood.
"Not—today!" He roared, with a brutal downward arc, he carved through the coil. The edge bit deep this time, dark steel searing the scales and forcing the serpent to recoil with a furious screech.
It didn't retreat. If anything, its hunger burned hotter. The beast lunged again, its thirty-foot body striking from three directions at once—fangs, coils, and tail in perfect concert. Ethan's blade blurred, deflecting one strike, rolling beneath another, but a tail caught his flank and hurled him across the clearing. He slammed into the roots, breath torn from his chest.
Blood ran from his lip. His chest ached.
"This thing… isn't like the reports."
The serpent reared, mist curling once more, its shadow swallowing him whole. Its gaping jaws rushed downward—
Thwip!
An arrow sliced the air past Ethan's cheek, black fletching whistling as it punched into the serpent's eye with a sharp crack.
The beast screeched, convulsing, venom spraying across the ground.
Ethan let out a ragged laugh, his grip tightening on the longsword.
"About time…"
From above, through the trees, he didn't need to look. He knew who had arrived.
---
The serpent writhed, one eye ruined by Lirael's opening shot. Its massive coils lashed in fury, crushing roots and gouging furrows into the clearing.
Ethan pushed himself upright, dragging his longsword free of the soil. His chest burned, his arm still tingling from the venom mist. For a heartbeat, he considered summoning his soldiers—trained blades that could turn the tide. But he clenched his jaw, forcing the thought aside.
No. Not this time. If I lean on them every fight, I'll never grow on my own.
He steadied his breathing, raising the sword again. The blade gleamed with no aura, only the uncanny darkness of its metal—a color that seemed to drink the light rather than reflect it.
The serpent hissed and lunged.
Thwip! Another arrow streaked down from the treeline. This time it hammered into the serpent's scales at the crown of its skull. Instead of bouncing off, the shaft splintered the armor—hairline cracks webbed across the plate.
The beast recoiled, thrashing.
Ethan's eyes widened. She actually cracked it…
From above, Lirael's voice carried faintly, sharp and urgent.
"Ethan! The arrows work—keep it turning!"
He bared his teeth in a grin. "Gladly!"
The serpent snapped its fangs toward him. Ethan pivoted aside, dark blade whistling as he slashed across its exposed jaw. The strike didn't pierce deep, but the beast recoiled instinctively, baring its softer underside for a moment.
Thwip-thwip-thwip!
Three arrows rained down. Two shattered against its iron-gray scales, fragments scattering, but the third drove into pale flesh just behind its lower jaw. The serpent shrieked, its coils slamming the ground in pain.
Ethan didn't waste the chance. Channeling mana into his free hand, he pulled it taut like an invisible bowstring. A shimmering arrow of pure light-blue energy formed, humming with condensed force.
"Let's see how you like this!"
He released. The mana arrow streaked forward, punching into the cracks Lirael had opened along its skull. A thunderclap burst of energy rang out as scale fractured fully, shards spraying into the air.
The serpent convulsed, enraged. Its body lunged in erratic, snapping arcs, jaws dripping venom that hissed as it hit the soil. The ground smoked where droplets fell.
Ethan dodged narrowly, rolling across the dirt. His blade cut into another coil as it passed, sparks and ichor flying. From above, arrows continued to fall in steady rhythm—one striking the shoulder joint, another sinking into the thinner plating of its belly.
The clearing became a storm of movement—fangs and steel, arrows and coils, venom mist curling in the shafts of light breaking through the canopy.
For the first time since the battle began, Ethan felt the serpent falter. Its hunger-driven frenzy was still violent, but its movements slowed, weakened by each arrow finding its mark and each mana bolt striking home.
Through the haze of venom, he caught Lirael's silhouette high in the branches, her bowstring drawn, eyes sharp, unyielding. She looked almost radiant in the dappled sunlight, an anchor in the chaos.
Ethan smirked, raising his sword once more.
"Alright then, beast. Let's see if we can finally bring you down."