False Hydras are a pain in the ass.
They're strong as far as the average person is confirmed, no dragon, and lesser than hydras for sure, but false hydras are not weak by any means, easily an A-rank in the eyes of the guild.
Their strength is arguably dragon level in regards to their physical strength, but their agility and magic are ultimately limited, thus limiting the monster as a whole, one of the many reasons why the false hydra is considered inferior to the hydra.
One of the greatest dangers of the false hydra was the hypnotic song it sang, not only lulling it's prey into a hypnotic state, but also its ability to erase the memories of a person ever existing.
Their physical traces may remain, but the memory of such a person disappears.
And this one seemed quite strong, bearing 25 heads. Unlike normal hydras which regrow heads, and sometimes two heads from one, but false hydras do not have such an ability.
A false hydra would have to be a variant produced through unique conditions, and in this case, the condition would be the direct interference of the dungeon.
This false hydra was likely a pure dungeon creation, created abnormally to be stronger than the false hydra. It's main form of attack was its heads, so having more than the average 8 clearly increased its own strength.
In fact, it's likely more around s rank than anything else thanks to the increase in physical strength.
There's no way Ursa is clearing this one.
... Wouldn't this be the perfect time to test out my progenitors?
I mean, if we're going to try one asset, why not try the other?
They could use a unique left field opponent.
Grant, upon thinking these thoughts, promptly opens the divine realm, and the wicked smile the false hydra has forcibly twists as the false hydra reacts to the force emanating from the realm. It's unnatural smile transforms into an even more unnatural frown as it looks on apprehensive, no longer as eager as before.
The goblins weren't strong enough to recognize the true horror of the divine realm, but even as stupid as the false hydra was, it could recognize danger. What emanated from the realm, what caused it to shiver, to tense up...
... Divine might
A giant hand emerges from the divine realm, followed shortly by dozens of more hands, all of them made of a coarse mycelium-derived material, and with each appendage that claws out of the divine real, the hopeless situation merely deepens. Soon, the progenitor of shrooms emerges in its entirety, easily towering over the false hydra, looking upon the false hydra with those calm unblinking eyes. The false hydra nothing but an insect before it's eyes.
The shroom father had come for judgement.
The false hydra began singing its alluring song, singing desperately as its heads swayed. The shroom father continued watching unmoving, unblinking.
Did the false hydra realize that the song wasn't working? Was it perhaps attempting to follow it's normal method when it lunged forward to take a bite out of the shroom father?
Sadly, even as a not-quite true progenitor, the shroom father was already gaining in power, with its own kind starting to see a rise across the world. And as a not quite progenitor, something like a false hydra is nothing but an unfortunate stepping stone to it.
Whatever the case was, the first head would be met with nothing but pain when the shroom's abdomen opened up, lunging forward and biting down on the first head, as an audible crunch rang out throughout the room.
As the many heads squealed the shroom father wasted no time, advancing as it extended its dozens of arms and began grabbing, tearing at the false hydras flesh.
It was a vicious sight, watching as the innocent looking shroom tore apart the hopeless thing, seemingly stuffing its orifices with all the flesh it tore off the false hydra.
Oh, the shroom father had begun developing miniature mouths on the miniature heads it had developed. Fun, quite different from Briares, who had used his arms to be a great warrior of many strengths and weapons, whereas the heckawonkatonchires simply chose to rip into his victims, feeding upon them mid-combat.
How gruesome.
Oh, and Grant was thinking about calling the shroom father a heckawonkatonchires, in honor of the hecatoncheires, the great hundred handed ones. He was thinking of a chocolate factory at the time.
The shroom father had a simple response.
'No'
That was fine. He would just call him that in his mind.
The false hydra fought desperately, attempting to chew on the progenitor, only for the pseudo heads to fight back, using this opportunity to grab onto the heads, and to begin eating in turn.
Unfortunately for the false hydra, it was discovering it's white flabby flesh was nothing in comparison to the sponge like body of the shroom father, which not only resisted greatly, but grew back quickly and greater than before as it feasted upon the false hydra.
Perhaps if the beast had been a dragon or some other particularly intelligent and multi-talented creature, than it could stand a better chance.
Unfortunately for the false hydra, its strength and hypnotism were poorly matched against another creature of pure strength with immunity to hypnotism.
With just a few heads left the false hydra began dragging itself away in fear and desperation.
Before it had attacked in the hopes its flailing could drive the being away, but now it merely wanted to escape.
"Fascinating." said Grant.
"So you have some semblance of free will. I wonder if you were brought in or created here."
All that remained was the main body and but one head, staring terrified as it was dropped into the abyss that was the mouth of the shroom father.
After sending shroom father back to the divine realm, Richard continued along.
The hallway was now adorned with traps, all of them laced with poison.
Just so much poison and herbs in this dungeon. At this point Grant was sure this was some type of herbal or poisonous dungeon, with the only thing to the contrary being the false hydra.
The course was set back to the theme of poison though with the next monster he encountered.
A giant beast, bearing the shape of a dragon, but far from being a dragon. The body made of a multitude of rotting bodies as miasma pours out of the wretched thing, as it leered at him mindlessly. The bodies of flesh are wrapped around a larger set of bones, which were likely a set of dragon bones, reanimated and merged with the rotting bodies to make the beast.
A flesh golem dragon.
Can't fly of course, but that wasn't the problem. The thing reeked of poison, and would likely kill the enemy before it even touches the enemy.
The beast unhinges it's jaw, blasting forth a vortex of miasma and acid, blasting full impact at Grant.
A sizzling and a burning smell arises, but the dragon shows no satisfaction and instead becomes more alert.
Grant walks out unscathed, holding a torch that could hardly be called a torch being a mere branch lit on fire, and yet the flesh golem eyed it warily.
Grant spoke suddenly.
"What do you think the most powerful type of relics are?"
The monster did not respond, spreading it's wings and shaking them fervently as decaying and rotting pieces of flesh spread everywhere, yet Grant continued walking forward, waving the "torch" around, managing to burn every piece that approached.
"People often confuse divine relics as the strongest, and there's no doubt that they are some of the strongest, but they've mistakenly connected correlation with causation."
The monster swiped at Grant, hoping to kill the man approaching, only to scream when it's hand touched the torch.
"You see, divine relics aren't strong relics, they're strong weapons. Divine weapons are strong because they're made fit to a god, not because they're strong relics; sure, a relic can be both, but as a result, many assume the most powerful relics are the ones connected to gods." Grant shook his head.
"How foolish."
Foooosh!
Another breath of miasma surges forth, only this time to be countered by a column of flames, enveloping the monsters head, and utterly melting it, leaving nothing but the bare skull of the beast to scream silently.
"You see, the most powerful kind of relics are the infamous ones, the ones that will hold an eternal spot in the minds of men; and there's no doubt a god's weapon fulfills this criterion. Everyone thinks of the trident when they think Poseidon, and everyone thinks hammer when they think Thor."
By now Grant stands in front of the monster torch in hand as the monster trembles, resigned to its fate.
"But there are things that will never be quite forgotten by people, things that far outstrip some random weapons. The first tools, the first clothes to cover our naked skin, the first paintings..." He pauses, before lighting the whole monster ablaze, leaving nothing but bones as he desired, before putting those away for further use.
"The first time man ever conquered fire."
Arriving at the final chamber, Grant finds the relic sitting in the center of the room, making him click his tongue.
"Aww. I already have this one. Oh well, hope this one has better stats."
As he picks up the mask, he hears hums of protest emanating from the mask, but he ignores them as he goes over the abilities of the mask, finding himself pleasantly surprised by the mask.
"System, provide me this world's record of the bubonic plague and the place of plague doctor's"
[Very well. Give me a minute to gather the info.]
Grant was quite curious why the mask of a plague doctor provided him the ability to heal and great insight.
Everyone knows what a plague doctor is. And everyone knows that plague doctors often were followed by death, rarely capable of actually healing, mostly there to record death and to falsely heal.
Thus legends came that plague doctors were bad omens, and that when they arrived, death was sure to follow.
And thus, the relic the plague doctor's mask was a relic that brought plague upon the users will, if not straight up death, depending on the will and quantity of mana a user had.
Grant had to confiscate it due to a mildly insane preacher who had used it to punish those who he viewed as sinful.
However, the fact that the mask in this parallel universe actually healed and brought great insight implied a very different history.
And when the knowledge was straight inputted, Grant could not help but chuckle.
"Whoah, that really is a difference in history. Raven sages huh."
Yes, the mask that Grant held was not meant to be a relic of plague doctors.
Rather, it was a relic of the raven sages.
According to the systems gatherings, the bubonic plague appeared around the same time, and was set to do the same amount of damage.
Instead of plague doctors arising, instead, a group known as the raven sages arose, led by the great one eyed sage who led the raven sages.
This man who led the raven sages seemed to practice the common practices of medicine, as well as an understanding of quarantining and good health practices.
Through the raven sages medicine was distributed to the masses, and helped the people, cutting the death toll by tens of millions.
It's no wonder raven sages, who were seen in such great light, produced such a helpful relic, and the fact that it was in a dungeon of poison was likely meant to test those seeking wisdom and the way to help others.
Apparently, raven sages still existed, though the one eyed man had long since faded into obscurity.
Of course, Grant already had a suspect for who it was, but that sounded like a fun mystery for later.
For now, Grant pulled out his old plague mask relic.
The plague mask relic was a relic that essentially allowed one to control plagues and bring death on a greater scale, and there is a degree of control over the health of others.
Two bird masks...
Similar relevance in history...
"I can mix you." He whispered in glee.
He'd never gotten to mix relics before.
How fun.
False Hydras are a pain in the ass.
They're strong as far as the average person is confirmed, no dragon, and lesser than hydras for sure, but false hydras are not weak by any means, easily an A-rank in the eyes of the guild.
Their strength is arguably dragon level in regards to their physical strength, but their agility and magic are ultimately limited, thus limiting the monster as a whole, one of the many reasons why the false hydra is considered inferior to the hydra.
One of the greatest dangers of the false hydra was the hypnotic song it sang, not only lulling it's prey into a hypnotic state, but also its ability to erase the memories of a person ever existing.
Their physical traces may remain, but the memory of such a person disappears.
And this one seemed quite strong, bearing 25 heads. Unlike normal hydras which regrow heads, and sometimes two heads from one, but false hydras do not have such an ability.
A false hydra would have to be a variant produced through unique conditions, and in this case, the condition would be the direct interference of the dungeon.
This false hydra was likely a pure dungeon creation, created abnormally to be stronger than the false hydra. It's main form of attack was its heads, so having more than the average 8 clearly increased its own strength.
In fact, it's likely more around s rank than anything else thanks to the increase in physical strength.
There's no way Ursa is clearing this one.
... Wouldn't this be the perfect time to test out my progenitors?
I mean, if we're going to try one asset, why not try the other?
They could use a unique left field opponent.
Grant, upon thinking these thoughts, promptly opens the divine realm, and the wicked smile the false hydra has forcibly twists as the false hydra reacts to the force emanating from the realm. It's unnatural smile transforms into an even more unnatural frown as it looks on apprehensive, no longer as eager as before.
The goblins weren't strong enough to recognize the true horror of the divine realm, but even as stupid as the false hydra was, it could recognize danger. What emanated from the realm, what caused it to shiver, to tense up...
... Divine might
A giant hand emerges from the divine realm, followed shortly by dozens of more hands, all of them made of a coarse mycelium-derived material, and with each appendage that claws out of the divine real, the hopeless situation merely deepens. Soon, the progenitor of shrooms emerges in its entirety, easily towering over the false hydra, looking upon the false hydra with those calm unblinking eyes. The false hydra nothing but an insect before it's eyes.
The shroom father had come for judgement.
The false hydra began singing its alluring song, singing desperately as its heads swayed. The shroom father continued watching unmoving, unblinking.
Did the false hydra realize that the song wasn't working? Was it perhaps attempting to follow it's normal method when it lunged forward to take a bite out of the shroom father?
Sadly, even as a not-quite true progenitor, the shroom father was already gaining in power, with its own kind starting to see a rise across the world. And as a not quite progenitor, something like a false hydra is nothing but an unfortunate stepping stone to it.
Whatever the case was, the first head would be met with nothing but pain when the shroom's abdomen opened up, lunging forward and biting down on the first head, as an audible crunch rang out throughout the room.
As the many heads squealed the shroom father wasted no time, advancing as it extended its dozens of arms and began grabbing, tearing at the false hydras flesh.
It was a vicious sight, watching as the innocent looking shroom tore apart the hopeless thing, seemingly stuffing its orifices with all the flesh it tore off the false hydra.
Oh, the shroom father had begun developing miniature mouths on the miniature heads it had developed. Fun, quite different from Briares, who had used his arms to be a great warrior of many strengths and weapons, whereas the heckawonkatonchires simply chose to rip into his victims, feeding upon them mid-combat.
How gruesome.
Oh, and Grant was thinking about calling the shroom father a heckawonkatonchires, in honor of the hecatoncheires, the great hundred handed ones. He was thinking of a chocolate factory at the time.
The shroom father had a simple response.
'No'
That was fine. He would just call him that in his mind.
The false hydra fought desperately, attempting to chew on the progenitor, only for the pseudo heads to fight back, using this opportunity to grab onto the heads, and to begin eating in turn.
Unfortunately for the false hydra, it was discovering it's white flabby flesh was nothing in comparison to the sponge like body of the shroom father, which not only resisted greatly, but grew back quickly and greater than before as it feasted upon the false hydra.
Perhaps if the beast had been a dragon or some other particularly intelligent and multi-talented creature, than it could stand a better chance.
Unfortunately for the false hydra, its strength and hypnotism were poorly matched against another creature of pure strength with immunity to hypnotism.
With just a few heads left the false hydra began dragging itself away in fear and desperation.
Before it had attacked in the hopes its flailing could drive the being away, but now it merely wanted to escape.
"Fascinating." said Grant.
"So you have some semblance of free will. I wonder if you were brought in or created here."
All that remained was the main body and but one head, staring terrified as it was dropped into the abyss that was the mouth of the shroom father.
After sending shroom father back to the divine realm, Richard continued along.
The hallway was now adorned with traps, all of them laced with poison.
Just so much poison and herbs in this dungeon. At this point Grant was sure this was some type of herbal or poisonous dungeon, with the only thing to the contrary being the false hydra.
The course was set back to the theme of poison though with the next monster he encountered.
A giant beast, bearing the shape of a dragon, but far from being a dragon. The body made of a multitude of rotting bodies as miasma pours out of the wretched thing, as it leered at him mindlessly. The bodies of flesh are wrapped around a larger set of bones, which were likely a set of dragon bones, reanimated and merged with the rotting bodies to make the beast.
A flesh golem dragon.
Can't fly of course, but that wasn't the problem. The thing reeked of poison, and would likely kill the enemy before it even touches the enemy.
The beast unhinges it's jaw, blasting forth a vortex of miasma and acid, blasting full impact at Grant.
A sizzling and a burning smell arises, but the dragon shows no satisfaction and instead becomes more alert.
Grant walks out unscathed, holding a torch that could hardly be called a torch being a mere branch lit on fire, and yet the flesh golem eyed it warily.
Grant spoke suddenly.
"What do you think the most powerful type of relics are?"
The monster did not respond, spreading it's wings and shaking them fervently as decaying and rotting pieces of flesh spread everywhere, yet Grant continued walking forward, waving the "torch" around, managing to burn every piece that approached.
"People often confuse divine relics as the strongest, and there's no doubt that they are some of the strongest, but they've mistakenly connected correlation with causation."
The monster swiped at Grant, hoping to kill the man approaching, only to scream when it's hand touched the torch.
"You see, divine relics aren't strong relics, they're strong weapons. Divine weapons are strong because they're made fit to a god, not because they're strong relics; sure, a relic can be both, but as a result, many assume the most powerful relics are the ones connected to gods." Grant shook his head.
"How foolish."
Foooosh!
Another breath of miasma surges forth, only this time to be countered by a column of flames, enveloping the monsters head, and utterly melting it, leaving nothing but the bare skull of the beast to scream silently.
"You see, the most powerful kind of relics are the infamous ones, the ones that will hold an eternal spot in the minds of men; and there's no doubt a god's weapon fulfills this criterion. Everyone thinks of the trident when they think Poseidon, and everyone thinks hammer when they think Thor."
By now Grant stands in front of the monster torch in hand as the monster trembles, resigned to its fate.
"But there are things that will never be quite forgotten by people, things that far outstrip some random weapons. The first tools, the first clothes to cover our naked skin, the first paintings..." He pauses, before lighting the whole monster ablaze, leaving nothing but bones as he desired, before putting those away for further use.
"The first time man ever conquered fire."
Arriving at the final chamber, Grant finds the relic sitting in the center of the room, making him click his tongue.
"Aww. I already have this one. Oh well, hope this one has better stats."
As he picks up the mask, he hears hums of protest emanating from the mask, but he ignores them as he goes over the abilities of the mask, finding himself pleasantly surprised by the mask.
"System, provide me this world's record of the bubonic plague and the place of plague doctor's"
[Very well. Give me a minute to gather the info.]
Grant was quite curious why the mask of a plague doctor provided him the ability to heal and great insight.
Everyone knows what a plague doctor is. And everyone knows that plague doctors often were followed by death, rarely capable of actually healing, mostly there to record death and to falsely heal.
Thus legends came that plague doctors were bad omens, and that when they arrived, death was sure to follow.
And thus, the relic the plague doctor's mask was a relic that brought plague upon the users will, if not straight up death, depending on the will and quantity of mana a user had.
Grant had to confiscate it due to a mildly insane preacher who had used it to punish those who he viewed as sinful.
However, the fact that the mask in this parallel universe actually healed and brought great insight implied a very different history.
And when the knowledge was straight inputted, Grant could not help but chuckle.
"Whoah, that really is a difference in history. Raven sages huh."
Yes, the mask that Grant held was not meant to be a relic of plague doctors.
Rather, it was a relic of the raven sages.
According to the systems gatherings, the bubonic plague appeared around the same time, and was set to do the same amount of damage.
Instead of plague doctors arising, instead, a group known as the raven sages arose, led by the great one eyed sage who led the raven sages.
This man who led the raven sages seemed to practice the common practices of medicine, as well as an understanding of quarantining and good health practices.
Through the raven sages medicine was distributed to the masses, and helped the people, cutting the death toll by tens of millions.
It's no wonder raven sages, who were seen in such great light, produced such a helpful relic, and the fact that it was in a dungeon of poison was likely meant to test those seeking wisdom and the way to help others.
Apparently, raven sages still existed, though the one eyed man had long since faded into obscurity.
Of course, Grant already had a suspect for who it was, but that sounded like a fun mystery for later.
For now, Grant pulled out his old plague mask relic.
The plague mask relic was a relic that essentially allowed one to control plagues and bring death on a greater scale, and there is a degree of control over the health of others.
Two bird masks...
Similar relevance in history...
"I can mix you." He whispered in glee.
He'd never gotten to mix relics before.
How fun.
