Re:Crafting in Another World

Chapter 165: Infamous Shennong


The tolling of the warning bells had roused the city into a frenzy, with citizens scurrying to the safety of their homes while soldiers scrambled to the outer walls. King Soris strode through the palace courtyard, his armor clinking with each determined step. The weight of his enchanted sword at his side was a grim reminder of battles long past, and now, it seemed, another loomed.

"Captain!" Soris barked, his voice cutting through the clamour. The new captain of Order One, a brave man named Oliver, hurried to his side, still pale from his earlier report.

"Yes, Your Majesty?" Oliver asked, his voice trembling slightly.

"Assemble the First and Second Orders at the old gate," Soris commanded. "No delays. And send word to Commander Lira—she's to lead the archers on the western ramparts. We'll hold the line there."

Oliver nodded vigorously. "At once, sire. But… these monsters, they're not just orcs. Their blue skin, their coordination—it's unnatural. Some of the men are saying it's sorcery."

Soris's eyes narrowed. "Sorcery or not, they'll bleed like any other foe. Go!"

As Oliver scurried off, Soris's gaze drifted to the glowing stone slab that had appeared at the city's old gate. The words etched in Lunamarite burned in his mind: The Sword of Juno awaits on the second floor of the dungeon. Come and claim it, if you dare. —Shennong, maker of the dungeon.

The audacity of it set his blood boiling. This Shennong was toying with him, dangling Juno's sword like bait and claiming he owned the new dangerous dungeon that appeared. But why? And how did he know of the sword's significance? He must be backed by some traitorous noble lord or some other nation that wants to destroy Sturgon.

Soris climbed the stone steps to the top of the outer wall, his boots thudding against the ancient masonry. From the high vantage point, he surveyed the fields beyond the city.

The sight that greeted him tightened his jaw. The monsters were no chaotic stampede, as he had initially been told. Their movements were deliberate, organized—an attack, not a mindless surge. Rows of blue-skinned creatures, taller and more muscular than any orc he'd faced, stood in disciplined ranks. Their eyes glowed faintly in the dusk, and their weapons, crude but menacing, gleamed with an unnatural sheen.

In the distance, a single human figure stood apart from the monstrous horde, flanked by a succubus whose wings twitched with barely restrained energy. The human's silhouette was cloaked by the darkness, but his posture exuded confidence, as if he commanded the very air around him.

The succubus, with her sharp features seemed to be whispering something to him. Soris's gut churned. This was no simple raid. The presence of a human and a succubus together hinted at deeper machinations because of his own contact with demons.

Were there factions among the demons, each vying for their own goals? The thought unsettled him. If demons were divided, what did this human stand to gain by allying with them?

Soris's hand tightened on the hilt of his sword. He had fought demons before, but this was different. The coordination, the presence of a human leader—it suggested a purpose beyond mere destruction.

His mind raced back to the stone slab's message. The Sword of Juno, a relic that everyone wanted and the ability of that sword. If this Shennong knew of it, he was no ordinary foe.

Below, the human figure—Shennong, Soris presumed—stepped forward, his cloak billowing in the evening breeze. Beside him, the succubus seemed agitated, her eyes darting between Shennong and the city walls. Shennong raised a hand, and the monsters grew still, their eerie silence amplifying the tension. He tilted his head, as if sensing Soris's gaze, and a slow, deliberate smile spread across his face.

"King Soris!" Shennong's voice boomed across the field, amplified by some unseen magic. It carried a mocking edge, yet there was an undeniable authority in it. "You stand atop your walls, proud and defiant, but you trespass on my domain! This dungeon, this land near dungeon—it is mine! Your men have invaded my home, plundered its depths, and I will tolerate it no longer!"

Soris's eyes widened. The dungeon, a labyrinth of twisting corridors and deadly traps, had appeared only weeks ago, its entrance yawning open near the old gate. Adventurers had ventured inside, seeking treasures, but few returned. Those who did spoke of horrors—creatures that defied nature, puzzles that broke the mind, and a presence that watched their every move. Was Shennong truly its creator?

Shennong continued, pointing to the glowing slab. "The Sword of Juno lies on the second floor of my dungeon. Take it, if you dare, and leave my home in peace! My kin—" he gestured to the blue-skinned monsters, "—are not here to slaughter your people today. They come to deliver a warning: disturb us no further, or face the consequences!"

The soldiers on the wall murmured, their fear palpable. Soris felt the weight of their eyes on him. He stepped to the edge of the rampart, his voice steady and commanding as he shouted back, "You speak of peace, yet you bring an army to my gates! Sturgon bows to no monster, no sorcerer, no traitor! If it's war you want, war you shall have!"

A ripple of cheers erupted from the soldiers, their resolve bolstered by their king's defiance. But Shennong's smile only widened, as if he had anticipated this response. "So be it," he called, his tone almost amused. "Try, King Soris. Try to claim what is mine."

With a theatrical flourish, Shennong raised his hand, and a wave of dust rippled through the air. In an instant, he vanished, leaving only the dust where he had stood. The monsters, as if obeying an unspoken command, began to retreat, their ranks dissolving into the shadowed forest beyond the field. The succubus, Rilith, lingered a moment longer, her eyes locked on the city walls before she too disappeared into the trees.

Soris stood frozen, confusion gnawing at him. Why had they come, only to leave? The display of power, the taunting message—it felt like a game, a challenge designed to lure him into the dungeon. But why? Was the sword truly there, or was it a trap? And who was this Shennong, to command such forces and speak with such boldness?

As the last of the monsters vanished into the forest, Soris turned to his advisors, who had gathered behind him. "Prepare the Orders," he said, his voice low but firm. "We march for the dungeon at dawn. If this Shennong wants to play games, we'll meet him on his own ground."

Unseen in the shadows of the forest, another group watched the exchange with keen interest. Mirelle, a succubus with jet-black wings and a calculating gaze, crouched among her kin, her eyes fixed on the spot where Shennong had stood. Her companions, a small band of demons loyal to her cause, whispered among themselves.

"He's bold and stupid," one of them, a horned succubus muttered. "To taunt his own king so openly… and to dangle the himselfas bait."

Mirelle's lips curled into a smirk. "That human is playing a dangerous game, but it's working. The king's pride won't let him ignore the challenge. He'll enter the dungeon, and when he does, we'll follow. We finish this in the dungeon."

Other succubus tilted her head. "And Yenissa? If she's truly behind this, what does she gain?"

Mirelle's eyes gleamed with ambition. "The Sword that we speak of is no mere trinket. Its power could shift the balance—between humans, demons, and whatever this young man is. Yenissa wants is doing something with it, and so do we. We follow this human Shennong, we find the sword, and we uncover what Yenissa's planning. This is our chance."

The demons nodded, their resolve hardening. As the city's bells fell silent and the night deepened, they slipped deeper into the forest, their movements silent and purposeful. The dungeon awaited, and with it, answers to questions that could reshape the world.

At dawn, King Soris stood before the dungeon's entrance, the glowing entrace casting an eerie light across the gathered soldiers. The First, Second, Third and so on all the orders, clad in gleaming armor, stood ready, their faces a mix of determination and unease. Commander Lira, her bow slung across her back, approached her king.

"Your Majesty," she said, her voice steady, "the men are ready, but this dungeon… it's unlike anything we've faced. The reports from the adventurers—traps, illusions, creatures that defy reason. Are you certain this is wise after everything you experinced here in your last visit?"

Soris's gaze was fixed on the dark maw of the dungeon. "Wise or not, Lira, we have no choice. If the Sword of Juno is truly there, we cannot let it fall into Shennong's hands—or worse, whoever backs him. We go in, we take the sword, and we end this. We avoid that dangerous area and we try to capture Shennong with the sword we want."

Lira nodded, though her eyes betrayed her doubt. "And if it's a trap?"

"Then we spring it," Soris said, his voice hard. "And we show this Shennong that Sturgon does not yield."

With a signal, the Orders marched forward, their torches casting flickering shadows on the dungeon's walls. The air grew colder as they descended, the weight of the unknown pressing against them. Soris's hand rested on his sword, its familiar weight a comfort against the growing sense of dread.

Behind them, unnoticed, Mirelle and her demons slipped into the dungeon's entrance, their eyes gleaming with purpose. The game had begun, and the Sword of Juno was the prize.

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