Poisoning

Chapter 90 Poisoning

Thick fog clung to everyone's noses as if it were a solid substance. This ruin, hidden in the rainforest, was as mysterious and sinister as a snake-man. The crescent moon peeked out from the sky, and the night sky and stars illuminated the twisted tree canopy, which shimmered on the earth like mercury.

Despite the bizarre architecture and the snake people's traps and witchcraft around the corners, nothing could stop the rye wine from being consumed by a stressful atmosphere.

"What do you think the snake people would hide in the ruins? I think it must be the dwarves' stolen treasure. Why can't I find the Hammer of Destiny anywhere? It must have been stolen by these rainforest monsters," Bardin said.

Trissy kept a respectful distance from the dwarves, who were noisy, smelly, and generally resembled goblins in their chaotic state.

She glanced at Marcus and noticed that he, like the dwarves, had thick, short black hair stained with the stench of snake-men's blood.

Yes, Zhuoer stood beside his father and walked side by side, thinking that this was what a warrior should look like. He thought that spending all day playing cards in the tavern and chopping wood and carrying water in the yard was just like a laborer.

"The snake-man must be hiding a great beauty! She has a pair of charming eyes, flowing, misty hair, and a bear that can crush a person." Marcus bluntly stated his thoughts.

Warriors, after all, always have some unrealistic fantasies. Maybe there's a beautiful woman who's been captured by snake people, waiting for a brave warrior to come to her rescue, and then, in a moment of extreme emotion, she makes a vow to repay him with her body.

Just thinking about it makes me a little excited.

"Discussing heretical and demonic ideas is a corruption of the soul! We must end this topic!" Victor interrupted the warriors and rangers who were always talking nonsense with righteous indignation. He disliked Marcus and Bardin's frivolous attitude; this was a sacred cause.

"Sir, but if we don't know what these heretics are thinking, how can we defeat them more effectively?" Marcus suddenly stepped to the left, watching the fangs suddenly fly out of the brickwork, and let out a smug chuckle: "I knew they would set a trap here."

"Enough! That's sophistry! Swords, hammers, and faith are enough to crush the enemy." Victor retorted, his voice lower, clearly lacking confidence in his own words.

"The old stubborn man will suffer because of this; this is the wise judgment of the dwarves."

"Beards do not represent wisdom. I have seen many dwarves fall into evil ways because of their thirst for gold, and they keep saying that it is the wisdom passed down from their ancestors."

"That's the man from the foot of the mountain! Victor Waldo!" Bardin repeated, raising his voice three notches: "The man from the foot of the mountain."

Victor looked at Bardin with slight surprise. He hadn't expected the dwarf's true origins, but he would never apologize.

"Tell me, Bardin, what made you leave the mountains and come to our world? As far as I know, most of the dwarves living in the Griffin Kingdom have chosen to worship the human gods. Some dwarves who have lived in human communities for a long time cannot even speak fluent dwarven language."

Bardin turned his head away, not wanting to speak, gripping his battle axe and shield tightly, his beard trembling, as if he really wanted to give the foul-mouthed Victor a good whack on the knee.

Viktor fell silent, offering no defense of his earlier statement, and walked at the head of the group.

Drow was overjoyed. Those damned priests were a bunch of annoying guys, whether in the Underdark or on the surface. With the priests' divine magic, dealing with a group of snake people who were clearly not the main force was not difficult.

Marcus's constant worry was the four-armed serpent monster that appeared in the Temple of Light and Shadow. If it was just one, there might still be a chance to deal with it, but if there was another one, then he would have no choice but to call upon the feathered serpent god who had recognized him as his son.

Fortunately, the basilisk did not appear. Apart from the black mist that occasionally floated between the gaps in the high walls, everything seemed to be normal.

"There's something wrong with the fog," Trish suddenly said, reaching out from under her cloak and spreading her long, slender fingers.

Beneath the smooth, pearly nails, a dark gray tinge is slowly eroding the fingertips, a sign of poisoning.

"Elf, as long as you hold faith in your heart, you fear nothing—" Viktor suddenly released his grip on the sword hilt, clutching his own throat. His internal organs and muscles emitted a near-tearing scream, yet he still stubbornly declared, "Poison!"

Not only Trish and Victor, but even Bardin, who was extremely robust and like a rock, began to walk unsteadily.

He leaned against the wall, mumbling, "I need a cold beer to cool me down. I'm so itchy all over, it's really uncomfortable—"

Toxins? Why am I fine?

Marcus had just begun to have doubts when he saw Trissy's body suddenly fall forward. He quickly reached out to catch the poisoned drow, pulled back the hood of her cloak, and found that her delicate, flawless oval face was now covered with a visible layer of gloom.

"Hey, Hakis, what's wrong with you?"

Trissy pushed away her father, who was trying to help her up, and, with great determination, steadied herself by leaning against the wall. She coughed violently a few times, her voice hoarse and seemingly tinged with blood: "Damn poison—"

Marcus took a few deep breaths of the murky, damp air. He showed no signs of poisoning. Could it be—

He roughly ripped open the straps of his studded leather armor and discovered that the feathered serpent tattoo on his right arm glowed with a faint green light in the darkness.

Well, Quetzalcoatl is really reliable. He not only gave me extraordinary insight, but also made me immune to toxins.

But I'm not a pastor, so how can I share this ability with everyone?

He gritted his teeth, looked at the three who were stubbornly resisting the poison, and with the wisdom shared by the feathered serpent, he instantly thought of a solution.

The poison was released by the snake-man, so they must have the antidote. As long as I beat the snake-man who released the poison to a pulp and make him afraid, he will hand over the antidote!

The soldier growled, "Wait for me here! Don't go far!"

They plunged headlong into the ruins of unknown depth, leaving only three people suffering from the poison, staring at each other in bewilderment.

Viktor clutched his throat, straining to pray to his god, shouting, "An antidote!"

A glimmer of light descended from the sky, and he felt better. He bent down to pick up the sword that had fallen to the ground, but instead plunged headfirst into the lichen covering the bricks and stones, getting a mouthful of moss.

His comical actions made Zhuo Er, even in his extremely uncomfortable state, leaning against the high wall and nearly suffocating, still laugh: "Cough~, is this the power of faith? How ridiculous. You should pray to Marcus now, cough cough, that he can cure the snake people's poison."

"No!" Viktor's cold, numb fingers gripped the hilt of his sword tightly. With unwavering will and spirit, he refused to yield to his body and leaned against his sword to stand up.

He took one step at a time, panting heavily, his body moving forward through the black mist.

"Faith—will never yield!"

Stubbornness is a quality that can be despised at times and admired at others. Trish looked at Victor's struggling back and then glanced at Bardin.

"Dwarf, I hope you don't complain when you die. I hate how you and Marcus always have such silly expressions."

"A tough guy can do it, trust him." Bardin grabbed the lichen beside his feet and rubbed it for a while. His fingers were almost numb and he couldn't feel the slipperiness.

"Don't always have such a sour face, Elf. You've already left that awful place. Sometimes tough guys say silly things to cheer you up. He cares about you a lot."

"—"

Trish turned her head away, no longer speaking, and a strange expectation appeared in her eyes as she stared into the darkness ahead.