Knucker.
A creature resembling a dragon—
but with fins instead of wings, and brimming with lethal venom.
Under normal circumstances, such a monster would have been far beyond Fernand's ability to handle.
Even with all his artifacts, the best he could have done was run.
But this time, things were different.
He had Wooden, the ego-golem he had poured his soul into crafting.
A being that had once pushed even the demon Andromalius to the brink—
and slain the beast that demon had raised.
No matter how powerful the Knucker was, it could not compare to that.
So Fernand didn't fear defeat.
His only worry was that the Knucker's corrosive venom might destroy the precious ores—
and the Itarium.
"Wooden! Don't let it open its mouth!"
If the cavern collapsed from the battle, that was fine. He could reinforce it with magic.
If the adamant, orichalcum, or mithril shattered, that too could be managed.
As long as the substance remained intact, it could be refined again.
But venom—venom corrupted the very essence of things.
If the minerals were tainted, they'd be worth less than dirt.
'I can't trust Wooden with that.'
The golem obeyed orders… until it got caught up in battle. Then, it forgot everything.
Fernand hurriedly began chanting spells, lifting his staff and drinking potions.
He activated every artifact that could amplify his mana.
Rumble—
His mana drained rapidly—tens, hundreds of units at a time.
Thick slabs of stone rose to encase the walls lined with legendary ores, sealing them from harm.
'Not a single fragment can be lost!'
Even a pebble of this stuff was worth a gold bar.
He couldn't afford to lose anything.
If it broke, he'd restore it. If it broke again, he'd restore it again.
'I'd rather collapse from mana exhaustion than let a single grain be ruined!'
With that grim resolve, Fernand set to work.
Thunk.
Wooden smiled, flooded with exhilaration.
Then realized, belatedly, that it didn't actually have a mouth—
and found that hilarious.
Koom-koom-koom!
"Wooden! Don't let it open its mouth!"
Understood. Reason unclear. Doesn't matter.
Wooden nodded.
"Be careful!"
That moment of distraction—was all the Knucker needed.
Its enormous body shot forward like an arrow.
BOOM!
The golem's massive frame was hurled through the air, crashing into the wall Fernand had just raised.
The wall crumbled like sand.
Even with his senses linked to the golem, Fernand only felt a dull jolt—not pain.
Koom!
"Don't worry about pain! Look ahead!"
Right—fighting. Focus.
Wooden gathered itself and faced forward.
Another headbutt attack—but it wouldn't fall for the same move twice.
The golem rolled aside.
BOOM!
Another of Fernand's stone barriers shattered.
A few chunks of purple ore tumbled to the ground.
From somewhere behind came a scream:
"My ore!"
Koom!
Don't worry, Master. I'll avenge you!
Wooden gripped its sword—a massive greatsword that carved a long scar through the ground as it swung.
Slash—
The blade, forged from controlled alloy smelting and refined by Fernand himself, was sharp enough to slice through Andromalius's demonic beasts.
The Knucker's scales didn't stand a chance.
SHRIEEEK!
Dark red blood sprayed through the air.
Hissss—
Even its blood was venomous, releasing acrid smoke where it hit the floor.
"Damn it! Don't let that blood touch the ore!"
Koom?
Blood… ore… bad?
Cutting makes blood.
Blood bad.
So… no cutting?
That can't be right.
BOOM!
The Knucker thrashed in pain, its tail smashing against the walls.
"What are you doing?! Finish it off—quickly!"
Koom-koom!
Blood bad. Ore bad. Quickly.
Ah.
A new thought clicked into place.
He didn't mean don't wound it—
he meant kill it quickly, before too much blood spills.
A little disappointing, since Wooden wanted to enjoy the fight,
but orders were orders. A contract was a contract.
Kwoo…
Quickly. Where?
Vital spot. Where?
Wooden thought of itself.
If its arm broke—it didn't die.
If its leg shattered—it didn't die.
Even if its head was crushed—it didn't die.
Only one place mattered.
Koom.
The heart.
The source of its mana—the vessel of its soul.
That would be the weak point. Every living thing had one.
Wooden's eyes gleamed.
Through its elemental senses and internal sensors, it detected where the Knucker's mana converged most densely.
It gathered power—then launched forward.
The greatsword shot straight like a beam of light.
CLANG!
The Knucker twisted its long body.
The blade grazed its scales, leaving not even a scratch.
Slippery. Not cutting well.
Its scales were slick with viscous fluid, thick with venom.
Smoke rose faintly from Wooden's blade.
—BOOM!
—BOOM!
Several more attempts—all missed or deflected.
The Knucker's size belied its speed; it darted and coiled with serpentine agility, snapping at the golem's limbs.
CRUNCH—!
SHRIEEEK!
Its jaws met unyielding metal; the Knucker howled and recoiled in pain.
Koom-koom!
Scratch! Scratch! Strong!
"Just—focus on the fight, Wooden!"
Then, a heavy impact slammed into the golem—
the Knucker again.
The two titans crashed together, rolling across the cavern floor.
SHRIEEEEEK!
The Knucker roared from above.
Kwoo!
The stench was unbearable. Wooden winced.
Weird—no nose, yet it could smell!
Kwooo?
A surge of mana gathered in the Knucker's throat.
Fernand felt the flow immediately—dense, ominous, and overwhelming.
He flared his magic output instinctively, but—
he was too late.
─────!
A torrent of acid-laced venom—an Acid Breath—erupted from the Knucker's jaws, engulfing Wooden.
Shhhhhh—!
The world spun white.
Hundreds of magic sigils etched into the golem's shell all ignited at once, activating their defensive enchantments.
Crackle—! Snap! Pop!
Sparks burst violently across Wooden's frame.
The Knucker faltered, realizing its deadly breath had done nothing.
By then, Wooden had already boosted its power output.
Crrrk—!
Its massive fingers clamped down on the Knucker's scales, crushing them like paper.
The beast screamed, thrashing backward.
Wooden didn't miss its chance.
It scooped its fallen sword from the ground and charged.
A faint, shimmering aura flickered to life along the blade's edge.
It was weak—barely enough to qualify as aura—but for now, it was sufficient.
────!
The Knucker twisted, trying to coat its scales in its own bodily fluids again.
But aura pierced through such tricks.
The blade ignored laws of matter and magic alike, plunging deep.
A spray of dark crimson blood erupted like a fountain.
KRWAAAARGH!
The Knucker's blood splashed across Wooden's body.
Less corrosive than its breath, but thicker—sticky, tar-like.
It clung to the golem's joints, slowing its movements.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
And then—
a flurry of blows.
The Knucker's tail and claws rained down on Wooden, dozens of strikes in seconds.
But Wooden didn't only take the hits—
it struck back.
The sword was gone again, but fists would do just fine.
Huge, solid fists.
Wooden cocked its arm and slammed a punch straight into the monster's skull.
Boom! Boom!
He wasn't skilled enough to dodge everything and land every hit perfectly.
He didn't need to be.
He trusted his body.
He fought head-on.
One hit taken, one returned.
Two hits taken, two returned.
It hurt—but the weight of his punches felt good.
With every blow, Wooden felt more alive.
For the first time, he truly understood what it meant to have a body.
He was enjoying it.
He almost wanted the fight to go on forever.
And it might have, if not for what came next.
Maybe…?
Kwoing!
Oops.
He'd let out an involuntary cheer—
and quickly covered his nonexistent mouth.
Thankfully, his master hadn't heard—
"Did you just laugh?! I said finish it, not play patty-cake!"
…Never mind. He heard.
Kwooiing…
Wooden drooped in shame—
and then found someone to blame.
Kwooo…!
You. Your fault. Master angry!
Rage surged.
And rage became movement.
He grabbed his sword again.
Power surged through him.
He didn't just run—he launched.
His mana core pulsed violently.
Faster.
Stronger.
He gathered all of his power at a single point.
The aura flaring at the sword's tip thickened—
solidified—into the shape of a blade of light.
In a blink, Wooden was before the Knucker.
The beast's eyes widened, unprepared—
"Wait—! Not the heart, the neck—!"
Fernand's shout came too late.
Wooden's sword pierced straight toward the Knucker's chest.
Through torn scales, shattered bone—
and deep into its heart and mana core.
Grrk…!
The Knucker vomited blood.
Kwoo! Kwoo…?
Got it! Got—?
Then, the creature's upper body began to swell.
Mana from its entire form rushed into the core, trembling violently.
No.
Wooden's instincts screamed.
And then—
───────!
The explosion hit.
A storm of magic ripped through the cavern, venom fusing into it, corroding everything it touched.
The blast didn't kill Wooden—
its body, crafted with the full might of the Pellernburg family, was too strong.
Nor did it kill Fernand—
he had sensed the self-destruction and activated a layered defensive barrier just in time.
But—
"…Ah."
The ores did not survive.
Fernand dropped to his knees.
The venom coated the walls, seeping into everything.
No matter how legendary the metals were, they couldn't endure the self-sacrifice of a beast-class creature.
Even the reinforced stone layers Fernand had conjured couldn't stop it.
The ores melted, half-corroded, dripping from the walls.
And Fernand's heart sank with them.
"Ha… ha…"
Do you know how much that was worth?
How many gold bars? How many fortunes?
It wasn't just the ores, either.
The Knucker itself—
even tainted with venom—had been a priceless being.
Its core, its scales, fangs, claws, bones—
all precious materials.
All gone in a single blast.
Kwoom?
"Quiet. And don't put your hand down."
Wooden froze, half-raised hand stiff in the air.
"…At least the Itarium's intact."
That, at least, had survived—because Fernand had prioritized its protection over everything else.
'I'll refine it, then pass it on to Aint and the others.'
Painful to part with? Absolutely.
But when investing in the future, sometimes sacrifice was necessary.
If Aint, Luina, and the other prophesied figures grew stronger and could stop the demons—
that was profit enough.
'As for the ores…'
The exposed surfaces were ruined—unusable.
Even the tough adamant had been damaged.
Proof of how devastating a spirit-beast's self-destruction could be.
He sighed deeply.
Still, the cavern was vast—
and even if the surface layers were destroyed, perhaps some deeper material could be salvaged.
'The family might find a way to purify it.'
At the very least, he could extract whatever hadn't completely corroded.
So Fernand began mining with magic once more.
Unfortunately, the mineral veins didn't run deep.
Even so, he gathered enough—just enough—to potentially forge the Bell.
That was something.
"Still… what is this place?"
Even for the First Emperor, how could such a collection exist?
After storing the ores in his sub-space, Fernand finally reached for the Itarium.
"Hm?"
Beneath it lay a small, hidden box.
"…What's this?"
A faint emblem was carved into its surface—
the crest of Saintbird.
And beneath it, engraved words:
"Kalinos Armian."
The name of the last king of the Armian Kingdom.
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