Chapter 396

Chapter 396: Harvest

"Seven Ring Blood Python," Zaknavan stated matter-of-factly.

This formidable yet rare magical beast had teeth, tongue, venom, eyeballs, scales, and even flesh that could fetch high prices in dark elf markets.

The most valuable part was the snake pearl—the core organ enabling the python to wield magic.

Zaknavan estimated this single specimen could bring at least eight hundred black gold coins.

In the Shaded Realm, black gold coins served as common currency. For Wolfspider tribe’s slave warriors, one coin equaled one contribution point—meaning eight hundred points total.

Since the spoils would be split equally, Midi received four hundred points. Even this reduced amount represented astonishingly fast accumulation for any ordinary slave warrior.

But there was more.

The python hadn’t chosen its resting place randomly. It guarded something in the Dark Mushroom Forest, attacking Midi’s group for this reason.

Tracking its path, Midi discovered a dark-red flower in a shadowy hollow. The blossom bore a distorted human face frozen in silent scream—a chilling Ghost Face Blood Sunflower.

The serpent had been guarding this plant until maturity, after which consuming it would trigger molting and evolution to an Eight Ring state. Now, that chance was forever lost.

"Ghost Face Blood Sunflower! Let me claim this." Zaknavan’s eyes gleamed.

Though sword souls fought through peerless technique, demon god power remained crucial. This plant greatly benefited Zaknavan’s patron deity, cracking his usual composure.

Midi simply nodded. As an Awakened One of Extraordinary Awakening, the flower held little value for him. Better to owe a favor—when Midi found treasures he desired, Zaknavan would reciprocate.

Shared knowledge, safer travel, efficient combat, and optimal spoils distribution—these defined teamwork’s advantages.

After processing their haul, the pair pressed onward with Midi leading. His vision from the Mushroom King had revealed multiple targets.

They soon reached mushroom trees growing thickly together. Hundreds of blood-sucking bats hung beneath fungal caps, waiting silently.

These weren’t ordinary bats but glass bats—creatures that consumed earth to extract glass components for reinforcing fangs. Each adult’s glass-made venomous fangs made perfect arrowheads, commanding high prices.

More importantly, their colony nurtured Midi’s coveted Mirage Grass.

Bat swarms proved far deadlier than lone pythons. Using guerrilla warfare, the pair alternated between luring bats into traps and launching ambushes, whittling down numbers.

Their final challenge came against a Level 61 peak Great Bat King. After fierce combat, they cleared the area completely.

After processing the glass bats’ remains, the day was nearly done.

"These teeth should fetch nearly a thousand black gold coins," Zaknavan remarked with contentment.

Alone, he’d never dare enter the perilous Dark Mushroom Forest. Even if he did, slaying a Seven Ring Blood Python would take days, let alone scouting the entire area.

But with Midi as his partner, they could execute tactics like luring, ambushing, and flanking with ease, boosting both efficiency and safety.

Midi felt even more satisfied.

While Zaknavan handled corpse disposal for their shared contribution points, Midi scavenged the bat nest’s surroundings, gathering ample Mirage Grass.

Rost estimated the Radiance of Darkness extracted from these plants might surpass the quantity from Blood Hand’s poison vial.

Refining them would push Midi from level 60 master to peak level 60, possibly even Level 61.

He’d only reached level 60 three weeks prior during battles against the demon viscount in the Sea of Clouds.

Such was the Radiance of Darkness’ power.

Impatience gnawed at Midi.

That night, they retreated to a nearby cavern.

Zaknavan slept early for tomorrow’s battles, but Midi stayed awake refining Mirage Grass.

With Death’s Pursuit Order’s sulfurous aura haunting him, he craved power desperately.

By dawn, he’d refined all the grass, reaching peak level 60.

More Mirage Grass might propel him to Level 61!

Midi mused.

Subsequent days proved less fruitful.

They’d devoured the metaphorical cake’s cherries first – Midi had initially targeted the richest zones.

After repeated hunts, they’d cleared most high-value areas of the Dark Mushroom Forest.

Remaining zones offered diminished returns.

Radiance of Darkness-rich materials like Mirage Grass grew scarcer, dashing Midi’s Level 61 hopes.

Still, their haul remained impressive.

Excluding personal consumption, their spoils totaled over 8,000 contribution points – 4,000+ each!

Zaknavan’s previous four weeks of solo missions had yielded under 1,000 points.

Their efficiency spoke volumes.

Another week like this meant freedom neared.

Time flew, reaching the week’s final day.

Guided by Zaknavan’s intelligence, they’d fully mapped the forest’s outskirts. After packing, they prepared to return.

Another option existed: lingering longer.

The Wolfspider tribe only forbade escaping, not extended missions. Exploration often took weeks.

As long as the black dragon priestess sensed the magical iron chain around their necks in authorized zones, no penalties applied.

Delaying return by seven days wouldn’t affect ranking matches or future missions.

But they dismissed this choice.

Two weeks for one mission meant fewer contribution points.

To gain freedom faster and cement their Status, swift mission turnover proved essential.

Moreover, they’d stripped the outskirts bare.

Better resources lay deeper, requiring preparation beyond current means.

They turned homeward without hesitation.

As they approached Glow River, a thunderous explosion rocked the area.

Firelight pierced the gloom.

In the blast’s glare, Midi saw a Mushroom Cloud rising – unmistakable signature of an Asura’s Explosive Flame Wave Sword.

Demon Swordman Midi never erred about such things.

Exchanging nods, they adopted Formation positions and sped silently toward the commotion.

They found a raging battle.

One side: dark elves unrelated to Wolfspider tribe.

Opponent: eight-meter magical beast with metallic carapace.

A Terrorclaw Scorpion.

Three claws – two frontal pincers, one venomous stinger on its arched tail.

Despite bulk, it moved swiftly. Tail strikes whipped hurricane-fast, defenses crumbling before them.

Though armor-plated joints hindered motion, paralyzing mist seeped from crevices, barring melee professions from exploiting weaknesses.

This living siege engine rampaged unchecked.

Most dark elves fled. Only a Level 62 Asura and peak Level 61 gunner withstood the assault. Six lower-level comrades stood helpless.