The lead rwoman spat, her pale green tail lashing the water hard enough to send a spray hissing into the air. "What are you talking about, blood sucker? Why would we be on the sa side?"
Damon’s lips curled into a faint smile. "Because you’re not human," he replied casually. "And neither am I. You’ve fought their kind before, haven’t you? The ones who wear light like armor, who call themselves holy." His crimson eyes glowed, cutting through the surf. "They’re your real enemies. Not ."
To make sure that his words were properly conveyed, he even took out many holy and divine attuned armor, weapons, and trinkets and dumped them all into the sea right in front of them. "Look for yourself." He showed off proudly. "My kill count is in the thousands now. How many of you can say that?"
The rfolk froze. Dozens of glowing eyes darted between one another, uncertainty breaking through their united front. A low ripple of whispers carried across the ring. "Holy steel..." "So many..." "Thousands?"
Damon used this chance to boast so more.
"I am sort of a hero, by the way. It is very hurtful to see that my own kind would treat like this. I was expecting a little more respect," Damon finished, his tone dripping with mock offense as he spread his arms wide, standing tall on Erin’s coils like a monarch claiming his throne.
"After all, who else has cut down more holy dogs than ? Who else has stained the ground with their sanctified blood?"
The rfolk murmurs grew louder now. A burly rman with jagged coral armor lifted his trident high, water cascading from its prongs as he barked, "He’s not lying. I can feel it. The stink of the holy still clings to their weapons. This one has slain many."
The lead rwoman’s lips curled, sharp teeth flashing, though her tail no longer lashed in outright hostility. "Hero, you call yourself? You’re arrogant, bloodsucker. But arrogance is not always empty. If what you say is true..." She paused, narrowing her eyes and looking towards the distance.
Damon instantly recognized the tell tale signs of a quest. This was precisely why he did not kill these guys. It did not matter that they were level 100. It also did not matter that they were currently be their strongest.
Not only they were in their elent but they were also together, united as the whole clan. They were in a position to be able to cast so insanely strong magic. Damon had never personally experienced their attacks but he had heard of it.
Encountering a group of rn and rwon together was pretty much a death sentence.
However, things were different for Damon. Because of his special constitution, their strength beca their weakness. If he started with his poison, then the entire fight would be over within seconds. Because of the water, his poison would affect them the most.
He can slaughter them all if he wanted to. Erin was definitely ready and waiting to do just that. Even without his poison he would be able to pick them off and deal with them.
But that would definitely be the wrong approach.
He was no longer in the light faction continent!
He was in the dark faction continent!
Over here, these guys were the NPCs and not monsters.
And unlike mobs, NPCs ca with quests, reputation systems, and long-term gains. If he played this right, he’d gain sothing far more valuable than experience points. If he simply went around slaughtering willy nilly he would probably gain so experience points and water elent skills but he would also lose out a lot.
There was a specific reason why Damon was dealing with these guys so patiently. rwon’s tears!
This was an extrely valuable crafting item. Rare, crystalline drops harvested only when trust was won. Priceless for potions, runes, and especially alchemy involving water or blood elents.
But rn and rwon were already rare to find and they don’t part with this stuff so easily. He had dread of getting his hands on even one vial in his last life. Entire guilds had started wars for a handful of those tears.
This was why he was holding his hand. Why he hadn’t unleashed poison. This was why he was playing along. He did not know the exact thod to get these tears just yet but gaining enough reputation with them should be a start.
"Is there sothing bothering you?" Damon calmly asked the lead rwoman. She didn’t answer right away. Her glowing eyes lingered on the horizon, past the crimson surf, past the rolling tide, toward a jagged stretch of coast where a dense, black-green forest lood.
Finally, the rwoman spoke, her voice low, but carrying enough weight that the surrounding warriors silenced themselves. "That forest. Sothing festers there. A demon who has no right to be here. He sullies our waters and feasts on our brethren. He uses a cheap trick to get in and out of the water before we can drag him down. Dozens of our kin have been lost to his maw."
The other rfolk hissed at her words, tails thrashing in agitation. One of the rn slamd his trident into the surf, sending a plu of scarlet spray skyward. "We call him the Shorebreaker. Half-beast, half-shadow. He waits until dusk, then drags our young into the trees. His laughter poisons the waves."
Damon’s crimson eyes glead with sudden interest. Bingo! He had hit the nail straight on the head!
A nad creature. A demon that had infiltrated territory not its own. And, if the rfolk were this furious, that ant the system was dangling sothing rare behind the threat.
Damon’s gaze lingered on the misted treeline. He could almost feel the malicious presence waiting there. "A demon clever enough to harass a whole tribe of water mages and warriors without being killed... won’t be simple prey." He smirked, crimson eyes narrowing. "Which ans he’ll be worth my ti."
The lead rwoman’s frown deepened, but a flicker of hope entered her expression. "Prove it, bloodsucker. Slay the Shorebreaker, and the Tides will rember your na."
***
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