Ch. 7
Chapter 7: [Nether-Copper Sword and Shield, and the Tree of Hanging Corpses]
Sunlight shone down upon the Karna Wasteland like ten thousand golden rays, yet the heat only stirred up more dust from its parched surface.
The wasteland under daylight differed greatly from the night—under the blazing sun, a faint layer of ochre haze lingered above the ground.
It dimmed the sunlight somewhat, yet visibility was also lowered, blurring most landmarks.
Adventurers without experience could easily lose their way.
Fortunately, the mixed-blood demonkind possessed an excellent sense of direction. Their innate perception came from geomagnetic instincts, unaffected by sunlight or dust.
Whoosh!
Samael clanked forward beside Thaleia, swinging an ancient bronze knight’s longsword with great enthusiasm.
Each sweep of the blade sliced the air with a piercing whistle.
【Remaining Energy: 97.3% (Detected ambient thermal energy — absorbing heat for auto-recharge)】
As the sword swung, the stamina bar on the UI dropped from 【100%】to【99%】, then instantly refilled to【100%】as he paused—just like the green stamina bar in Dark Souls.
【Remaining Energy: 97.1% (Detected ambient thermal energy — absorbing heat for auto-recharge)】
This armored body could absorb stray heat from the environment to restore both stamina and energy at an astonishing rate.
Samael studied the UI interface and text descriptions intently.
Perhaps because of that, the armor’s surface remained cool even under the sun, always exuding a faint, bone-chilling aura.
Maybe I’m just a magical air conditioner, Samael thought to himself, amused.
“Thaleia, look at me! Look, I can do this too!” He stretched out his bronze-plated gauntlet and grasped the blade.
In an instant, the coppery sword glowed cyan-green, then heated red-hot, melting and reshaping into serrated, shark-tooth hooks before rapidly cooling down again—becoming a viciously curved Sharkfang Sword.
“And look at this one!” Samael raised his other hand, where molten red metal flowed from his palm, shaping itself midair before hardening into a broad kite-shaped shield. “Now I can play my favorite move—Shield Bash!”
He held the shield in one hand and swung the sword twice with exaggerated precision.
Clang!
A heavy crash followed—the sword accidentally slammed into the shield.
The impact jarred the hilt from his grasp, sending the weapon spinning through the air.
The flying sword was caught neatly by Thaleia’s black gauntlet.
“All right, I understand—you’re a mighty Ghost Knight who can summon bizarre nether-copper tools and weapons. But could you please stop playing with that sword like a child seeing one for the first time?” Thaleia sighed, reversing the grip and handing it back to him.
“I’m just studying how many functions my body has—it’s filled with all sorts of strange abilities, but the list and data are a total mess. It’s like a library; figuring out what each entry means, what it does, and how to use it takes time and experimentation.” Samael scratched his head, taking the sword back.
He slung the kite shield over his back and restored the Sharkfang Sword into a simple, elegant knight’s longsword.
“At least now I know how to forge weapons from the same material as my armor.”
The armor’s system contained a vast database that required immense time and effort to decipher.
Samael spent nearly every waking moment studying its functions, analyzing the labyrinth of UI data as they traveled. After days of effort, he finally understood one key technology available for use.
It was the third entry under Basic Material Science, Level 0 Technology — 【Nether-Copper Printer】—a function that could forge objects made from Nether-Copper at will.
Nether-Copper was the same alloy that made up Samael’s armored body—a dark bronze metal streaked with deep blue-green patina, giving off a dim, ghostly sheen.
Samael had initially thought his armor was once bright brass, corroded over time in the underground ruins. Yet the freshly printed sword already bore that same bluish patina.
Perhaps those stains weren’t corrosion at all, but the inherent texture of Nether-Copper itself.
Unfortunately, the printer’s remaining Nether-Copper supply was limited—enough for only a few sets of swords, shields, or polearms.
To forge more, he would need to find additional Nether-Copper to replenish the material storage—or unlock the Level 1 Material Science entry, 【Nether-Copper Generator】, which was currently inaccessible.
Samael felt a pang of regret.
In the underground ruins where he had awakened, there had been dozens of identical armors, each likely containing their own Nether-Copper storage.
He had left the ruins without looting those storages—had he done so, he could have stocked an entire armory by now.
Of course, back then he hadn’t known what Nether-Copper was, nor how to operate the printer.
Come to think of it, he still didn’t know how to activate the other armors or extract their materials.
At the very least, he now had a set of modifiable weapons. If danger came, he wouldn’t have to rely on his fists.
“Samael, Spiritual Energy magic can’t create physical matter out of nothing. Nether-Copper is a rare, magic-infused alloy—an ancient metal corroded by spiritual energy. It’s tied to a high-tier necromantic branch of Void Magic, the 【Ghost Knight Forging】technique, a spell from the Age of the Gods. The method of its creation has long been lost. So remember—never use your 【Nether-Copper Summoning Technique】in front of others.” Thaleia watched the ecstatic Samael hugging his sword, sighing with worry. “Some demons proficient in Void Magic or scholars studying Relics of the Gods in the tower academies may know of Nether-Copper’s existence, but ordinary humans do not. Don’t attract unwanted attention.”
“Relax, relax—I’m not stupid.” Samael hung the longsword at his waist and adjusted the kite shield on his back. “I’ll just print the weapons ahead of time when no one’s watching. That way, I won’t need to craft them on the spot later.”
The two trudged onward through the desolate land, heading toward the nearest Adventurers’ Guild outpost.
Luckily, one was a mixed-blood demon and the other an undead knight—ordinary humans would have collapsed long ago carrying such heavy armor on foot.
“All right, let’s repeat our cover identities,” Thaleia took a deep breath. “I’m Talan, a War Knight seeking to register as a new adventurer. I come from the southern Holy Light Theocracy, from an ancient and secluded martial monastery. According to our vows, I have offered my mortal visage to the divine, and thus may not remove my helmet before others.”
“I’m Samo, from the same cold, heartless, cruel, and remote monastery as Talan. We’re super idols—our agency forbids us from showing our faces because… um, because we’re War Knights who wish to become new adventurers. According to our vows, I too have offered my face to the gods, so I can’t remove my helmet.” Samael crossed himself devoutly and bowed his head.
“Be serious. Not so exaggerated—and remember, the heavy armor is part of our ascetic training. If they ask, say we’re practicing physical endurance under our vows.” Thaleia added, “If they ask about food… just say it’s against our ascetic rules to dine with others. If they insist, tell them you’re fasting or not hungry—anything to stall them. Ugh, the more I think about it, the harder it seems! How are we supposed to pull this off?”
She smacked her helmet and sighed deeply.
“Let’s just try. Maybe adventurers won’t care that much?” Samael shrugged—well, his pauldrons did.
“All right, continuing on—our pilgrimage as War Knights is part of our ascetic training. Our next goal is to pass through the Edric Empire toward the central continent. If the adventurer’s party we meet has a caravan, we’ll ask to join. If not, we can earn enough money for the journey. Worst case, we’ll sneak through the Edric border in a cargo wagon.” Thaleia rehearsed her lines. “Got it?”
“Oh, I get it—we’re monks! Like The Lord of the Rings version of Tang Sanzang and the Monkey King! ‘I, the humble monk, hail from the southwestern Holy Light Theocracy, journeying to the continent’s center for enlightenment!’” Samael nodded eagerly.
“Tang Sanzang clad in black tortoise-gold armor, wearing a twin-horned demon-warding helm, draped in crimson robes, wielding an iron staff weighing one hundred and eight thousand catties—every swing cracks bone and crushes flesh!”
“And Wukong, the Ghost Knight Demon King of another world, clad in Nether-Copper Cyan Armor, wearing the Rusted Gold Faceless Helm, wielding the Ghost-Slaying Cyan Sword and the Demon-Binding Shield! Though empty of flesh and bone, his soul burns with divine madness! The Buddha said: If one seeks me through form or sound, one cannot see the True Self—for all flesh is but bone beneath, and only the soul achieves wholeness!”
Thaleia couldn’t help but laugh, coughing twice afterward.
“I’m glad you’re still able to joke around even now,” she smiled softly. “Still, we’ll need to act convincingly if we join other adventurers—serious, taciturn, perhaps a bit devout.”
“Not playful monks, huh? Fine. Got it, master.” Samael nodded. “Don’t worry—I’m a veteran of Dark Souls 1. I know all about the Chosen Undead and the pilgrims of Anor Londo.”
Talking as they walked, the pair crossed the wasteland.
The further they went, the fewer thorny plants they saw.
Animal bones grew sparse, and the lurking Rootrot Spheres and slimes had nearly vanished.
On the distant horizon, a structure came into view—the outer walls of an Adventurers’ Guild outpost.
Thaleia suddenly halted.
“What is that…?” Samael, distracted by his UI analysis, bumped into her back. He peered over her shoulder.
Caw! Caw!
A massive, gnarled tree loomed ahead, its roots twisted deep into the soil. Its bloated branches stretched out like the ribs of a colossal umbrella.
From them hung countless half-dried corpses, strung by coarse hemp ropes like autumn’s grim harvest.
The bodies were dressed in tattered, crude adventuring gear, swaying gently in the wind.
Above them circled flocks of carrion crows.
Demon crows perched thickly upon the branches, like black notes on a warped staff of the eerie classical tune In the Hall of the Mountain King.
They pecked at the corpses while tilting their blood-red eyes toward the two travelers.
On the charred, corrupted bark, pale letters had been carved with a dagger:
“The fate of bandits and criminals!!!”
“—Erected by the Adventurers’ Guild of Karna Wastes, Thornfall Outpost.”
“Well… okay?” Samael muttered, circling the hanging tree and daring to inspect the bodies closer.
Thankfully, he had no sense of smell—no stench of decay reached him.
Had it been Xia Mo’an of his past life, he might have been terrified. But now, with an undead armor body, he felt little fear.
Perhaps his necrotic shell dulled emotions, or perhaps death itself had numbed him—after all, to the dead, corpses were merely kin.
“Few wounds on these corpses,” he noted. “Most were killed with a single strike. Whoever did this—skilled professionals.”
“Likely Guild guards,” Thaleia observed. “They’re mostly former soldiers. Though inexperienced in survival or exploration, they excel at swiftly killing unarmored humanoid targets. Guild guards uphold order and execute criminals.”
“Long ago, the first adventurers were a chaotic lot. With no laws in the Wasteland, many behaved little better than bandits—murder, theft, betrayal. So, when the Guild was founded, their first act was to establish the Explorers’ Codex, and to create the Guild Guard—an order specialized in eliminating human outlaws. It was this that redefined ‘explorer’ from bandit to hero, and slowly earned them respect.”
“Many with criminal pasts fled into the Wasteland to avoid execution, becoming bandits. Even now, fugitives still form gangs to survive.”
“Oh, new rules and swift justice! They knew what they were doing,” Samael remarked, poking at a wound. “Looks like it’s from a polearm… maybe a spear, a lance—or a Lancer, huh…”
“The Wasteland hides many bandits and fugitives. They prey upon merchant caravans, sometimes hunt magical beasts or harvest rare materials to sell on the black market,” Thaleia said, gazing at the corpses. “Guild outposts often clash with them—the Guild’s missions aren’t just exploration, collection, or escort jobs. There are also bounties for exterminating bandit groups.”
Caw! Caw!
The demon crows screamed in the branches.
One, larger than the rest, folded its wings and stared directly at Thaleia with eerie amusement.
Thaleia narrowed her eyes behind the visor.
“Wait—the demonkin can control low-tier corrupted beasts… this crow…” She raised her hand, trying to command it.
Caw! Caw-caw!
The crowned demon crow burst into harsh laughter.
“Ah, did you think I wouldn’t recognize you, Lady Ronowe of the northern Londoran mountains?” The crow’s rough voice carried a mocking elegance. “Of course, much has changed in these two years since the fall of your demonic kingdom.”
Thaleia stepped back slightly—but Samael was already behind her. Her back brushed against his chestplate, steadying her stance.
“The Dungeon Lord of the Karna Wasteland Plains—Varak,” she said quietly.