Chapter 44: Treasure Hunt Time
Kurtz breathed a sigh of relief as he gazed at the dead dragon's remains, powerlessness washing over him like a tide.
He had almost completely drained his mana to maximize his magic's power, on top of what he'd consumed earlier defending against the dragon's breath.
His limbs felt like lead, and each breath came with effort.
Now, he couldn't squeeze out even a single drop of magical energy. The familiar sensation of power that usually hummed beneath his skin had vanished entirely.
Serie, standing beside him, noticed the fatigue on Kurtz's face and lowered her head, lost in thought. Her expression was unreadable, but something in her posture suggested she was calculating something.
For some reason, Kurtz felt a chill run down his spine that had nothing to do with exhaustion.
Across from them, Somo and a few others jogged over, their footsteps uneven on the debris-strewn ground.
The intense explosion's shockwave had left them even more disheveled than before. Dust and small stones still clung to their clothes and hair.
Lucky ones, like Norn, had managed to run behind a large rock the moment the beam appeared, so the blast barely harmed him. His quick thinking had saved him from the worst of it.
However, Somo and Eric weren't so fortunate.
The shock knocked them to the ground, tumbling several times, and when they got up, dust and serious bruises covered them.
Eric still had a dazed look in his eyes, as if he couldn't quite believe they'd survived.
Despite their disheveled appearance, their inner excitement couldn't be contained as they approached the dragon's corpse, examining it intently.
Victory, it seemed, had a way of washing away exhaustion.
"Ah, what a pity, it's all in pieces, and these scales are practically useless."
Somo lamented as he looked at the scattered remains, prodding at a fragment with his boot.
He had hoped to use these scales to craft a simple shield for himself. The dream of dragon-scale armor would have to wait for another day.
He didn't know advanced forging techniques; at most, he could only do some simple processing using the forging skills inherent in Dwarf genes.
But now, this plan lay in ruins; at best, he could only collect a few scales for his collection. His disappointment was palpable, his shoulders sagging as he surveyed the destruction.
"Speaking of which, with it in this state, are there any usable materials left?"
Eric asked curiously, looking at the dragon's head, which was only half-intact. The sight was both fascinating and grotesque.
"At the very least, we need to collect the dragon blood."
Norn took out a simple water skin from his backpack, intending to collect the remaining blood from the corpse, but the dragon's blood directly burned through the beast's hide water skin.
The acrid smell of burning leather filled the air.
The dragon's blood temperature was still terrifyingly high even after its death. Steam rose from the pooled crimson liquid like incense from an altar.
This was troublesome.
Norn felt distressed; without dragon blood as a material, he couldn't make ink that wouldn't fade, and the flowing dragon blood was rapidly evaporating at a visible rate, which pained him to watch.
Each lost drop represented pages of knowledge that might not survive the centuries.
"Is there any way, Serie?"
Seeing this, Kurtz asked Serie; he didn't want all their efforts to go to waste. The thought of coming so far only to fail at the final step gnawed at him.
Serie shook her head, indicating she had no good ideas, but then she seemed to remember something and said.
"We can go to its lair and check."
Her voice carried a note of anticipation that hadn't been there before.
"Dragons have a habit of collecting treasures; perhaps we can find what we need there."
Without hesitation, everyone quickly headed towards the lair deep in the valley. The entrance yawned before them like a mouth filled with promises and dangers.
Various colored ores filled the spacious lair, but what struck them most was the small mountain-like pile of gems of all colors.
The sight took their breath away; wealth beyond imagination lay scattered like children's toys.
Among them were some gold coins, which, from their style, looked very similar to the ones Amuro had given him back at the village.
The familiar design brought a pang of homesickness Kurtz hadn't expected.
"I guess that dragon just used these gems as a bed," Norn speculated after carefully observing the gem pile's appearance.
The depression in the center indeed suggested something large had been resting there regularly.
"Doesn't it feel lumpy?" Eric asked, somewhat disbelieving, running his fingers through a handful of smaller stones.
These gems varied in size, and just looking at them made them seem uncomfortable; he wondered what special preference that dragon had to use them as a mattress.
Perhaps comfort meant something different when you had scales.
"Who knows, my knowledge of dragons is limited to hearsay."
Serie, at the front of the group, bypassed the colorful ores and gems and went to an inconspicuous corner where someone had placed many armors and weapons.
Her movements were deliberate, as if she'd seen similar collections before.
However, these pieces of equipment were heavily rusted, clearly never maintained, and some were even partially damaged, making them practically unusable.
Time and neglect had reduced once-proud weapons to scrap metal.
"What are these?" Kurtz also noticed the equipment and leaned in to ask, his voice dropping to a whisper in the presence of what felt like a graveyard.
"Elven bows and arrows, Dwarf armor, Skywing Clan longswords... these are the equipment of those who died at this dragon's hands."
Serie picked up an Elven longbow, her fingers tracing the unrecognizable emblem on the bowstring; time's erosion had long since worn away the bowstring, leaving only the bow body, made of special wood, intact.
Her touch was gentle, almost reverent.
"Should we take them?"
"No," Serie put down the longbow with careful precision.
"It's meaningless, not as good as magic."
She felt a bit emotional.
"If these Elves had used powerful magic instead of these weak bows and arrows, would the outcome have been different?"
The question hung in the air like an unspoken memorial.
But unfortunately, not every Elf could use advanced magic and become a mage.
Elves who couldn't become mages either became mighty warriors like Kraft or became archers, which people considered to have some combat power.
Each path had its own dignity, even if some led to dragon hoards.
"Then let them rest here."
Kurtz also gave up the idea of sifting through this pile of equipment.
Mainly, these things looked almost entirely like junk at a glance, and there really wasn't anything worth his time to search for.
The practical part of his mind warred with a strange sense of respect for the dead.
Again, anyone who this dragon could kill probably wasn't left with equipment in excellent condition.
Kurtz felt that the kind of novel plot where an adventurer holding a legendary holy sword gets defeated by a dragon, only for someone to find the holy sword again, usually wouldn't happen to him.
Reality was disappointingly mundane, even in a fantasy world.
Besides, what use would he have for that thing!
He couldn't possibly be like some white-bearded old man, wielding a magic staff in one hand and a holy sword in the other to fight people, could he?
The image was absurd enough to make him smile despite the somber surroundings.
Just then, Somo, who was rummaging through the pile of gems, suddenly discovered a faintly glowing metal box.
"Huh? How did this thing get here?"
Theoretically, this place should have contained all gems and ores. The anomaly stood out like a beacon among the scattered wealth.
Somo had initially wanted to find some valuable materials among them, but he unexpectedly found something like a treasure chest.
It was a palm-sized silver-white box, its surface unmarked by the same corrosion that had claimed everything else.
Kurtz wanted to see what was inside, but found he couldn't open it at all. The mechanism resisted all conventional attempts.
"Magic seal?" Serie noticed the magical traces on the box, her eyes lighting up with professional interest.
"Let me try."
Serie took the metal box and directly used the most straightforward and brutal method, forcibly breaking the magic seal on it.
Her approach was characteristically direct; why finesse when raw power would suffice?
With a soft click, the box cracked open.
Inside was a small piece of ore, dark and unassuming.
Everyone looked at each other, completely confused about what charm this dark stone had that made it worth storing in such a sealed box.
The anticlimax was almost comical after their dramatic battle.
When asked, Somo also said he had never seen this kind of ore, turning it over in his calloused hands with the expertise of generations of miners.
Since that was the case, everyone decided to put the stone away for now and clear out the box to collect dragon blood.
The box, made of special metal, could withstand the dragon blood's temperature. Sometimes the most valuable treasure was the container, not its contents.
As everyone left the dragon's lair, Kurtz picked up a few beautiful gems, selecting them more for their aesthetic appeal than their value.
Somo packed a large bag full of precious ores, his eyes gleaming with the joy of a craftsman who'd found his materials.
Kurtz wondered why Somo needed so many ores when his forging skills were admittedly terrible. Perhaps hope outweighs ability in the dwarf's calculations.
Eric, meanwhile, grumbled as he carried a bag full of gems.
"So, can we exchange these gems for anything?"
Sudden wealth's weight was apparently heavier than expected.
"I don't know, we'll have to try."
Norn didn't take too much, only selecting a few gems and gold coins to put in his pocket, a stark contrast to Eric's enthusiastic hoarding.
His restraint spoke to a practical nature that valued only what could be put to use.
As for Serie, she didn't take anything.
She didn't care for anything in the dragon's lair; she simply wanted to accomplish the feat of killing the dragon.
For her, victory itself was treasure enough; everything else was merely clutter.
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