Round Six: Blood Axe

Banish Magic Ball? Moriel stared at the blurred, messy handwriting on the note, lost in thought.
Forty-Seven had been standing at the door for a while, motionless like a diligent construct guard. Suddenly, he noticed the whip dagger he had spotted in the tavern drifting over—oh, it was that female warrior, accompanied by someone else.
“Damn, what’s this guy looking at?” Mary had already felt uncomfortable in the tavern. Though Forty-Seven was nothing but a steel-bound corpse wrapped in tattered leather, Mary still sensed something unsettling in his gaze toward her, as if it carried the chill of a tomb.
“Maybe he likes you,” Jason said jokingly. Unlike Mary’s lightweight leather armor, he wore chainmail, carrying a long sword and shield—a typical warrior adventurer.
“I’ll pull out your tongue if you keep talking nonsense,” Mary glared at him.
The two approached Forty-Seven.
“Is she going to give it to me?” Forty-Seven thought indulgently, but Mary’s next words disappointed him.
“Tell your master that Lord Kegan Blood Axe wants to see her.”
Kegan Blood Axe’s camp was located on a high ground northwest of Rain City, surrounded by ditches, spikes, and walls—like a prison.
Unlike other places, humans were not in the majority here, not even if those who resembled humans were counted. Half-orcs and half-goblins sat in the shadows of the walls, with only faint green lights flickering in the darkness. Torches swayed, casting uneven shadows on their filthy armor and weapons.
“This place really holds no interest for me,” Forty-Seven mumbled as he followed lazily, until he felt something—he snapped out of it to find Mary sitting on the ground, glaring at him.
“I’m sorry, Lord Blood Axe only allows you to enter alone,” Jason said gently but firmly to Moriel.
Moriel thought for a moment.
“Very well, for the sake of Blood Axe.” She turned to Forty-Seven. “Wait here. If I haven’t come out in an hour, come look for me.”
Consistent with the house’s sturdy yet rough exterior, the interior was also crude and simple.
Lord Blood Axe sat in the central seat, his massive frame appearing almost square. His eyes, visible beneath the helmet rim, gleamed fiercely. He woreMithril chainmail chainmail, his thick brown beard tied into two messy braids. In one hand he held a goblet, and in the other, a huge axe with a blade two feet long—rumored to possess magical powers, returning to its wielder after being thrown—thankfully, Forty-Seven wasn’t allowed in, Moriel thought.
She bowed slightly to Lord Blood Axe, a typical dwarf berserker. “Good evening, Mr. Kegan Blood Axe. What brings you to see me?”
Blood Axe glanced at her without saying a word, instead slamming his silver goblet down on the table.
Moriel watched Kegan Blood Axe with respect and wariness, unsure of what to expect.

“Girl! You seem quite pale!” Just as Moriel was thinking about what to say to start a conversation, Bloodaxe spoke up.
“Oh, maybe it’s because I’ve just gotten back from a difficult adventure… It was a terrifying experience. I’m sorry, Mr. Bloodaxe—several of your excellent mercenaries died in that gamble.”
Bloodaxe waved his hand impatiently and snapped, “That’s no big deal! If you want to get rich, you better be prepared for a coffin! But! Better not let me know if your evil plans are to blame for their deaths!”
“How could that be… Mr. Bloodaxe?” Moriel spread his hands. “Although I’m just a new resident of Rain City, I’ve studied hard from day one and followed the primal laws of the swamp. Please consider—is my reputation really inferior to that cunning half-elf’s?”
“Hmph! Let’s not talk about that! Anyway, you’ve reaped quite a lot this time! Now let me tell you my idea! You humans always digress!”
Bloodaxe paused briefly, and Moriel showed an appropriately focused expression.
“Girl, I need to borrow your golem!” After saying this, Bloodaxe stared intently at Moriel with his small eyes hidden among his messy hair and beard.
“Mr. Bloodaxe…” Moriel spoke cautiously, “I don’t really think what I found is a golem… And I’m just a beginner mage… Creating powerful tools like servitors isn’t something I can master yet, so I think I still need time to figure it out…”
“Enough!” Bloodaxe swallowed the wine in his mouth. “I’m not asking you for it! Just tell me—has that old drunk, Billy, already told you I’m sending my men to the swamp?”
Moriel nodded in agreement.
“Alright, to be honest, what I’m looking for has nothing to do with you, and don’t ask! I didn’t ask you when you took my men to look for things, did I? I can only tell you why I need you… Well, just call it a golem! Because the place I found is full of annoying undead monsters! I swear on my flask—I hate those things the most! They’ve killed many of my men already, and according to those who escaped, there are even advanced necromancers there! You know I’ve always had a bad relationship with those priests! So I need a golem! Something lifeless is perfect for dealing with those guys!”
Necromancers… That was a solid reason. Even low-level, clumsy zombies could cause trouble for ordinary warriors with their necrotic toxins, not to mention advanced necromantic creatures that could drain vitality with each attack.
“So, what do you say, girl?” Bloodaxe showed his yellow teeth. “I won’t use your golem for free! How much per day? And if you find any magical items you don’t like or don’t understand, I’ll give them to you first! What do you say? This is my final offer! Don’t mess around with me—I’ve no patience! Will you be my friend?”

“Well then…” Moriel rubbed his hands together. “It seems I really have no reason to refuse you anymore. But there’s one problem—I can’t guarantee that guy will function properly on his own… Can I join this adventure too?”
Bloodaxe didn’t answer right away; instead, he touched his beard braid.
Moriel pushed open the sturdy wooden door and stepped out, tapping 47 on the head with his staff. He had already distracted the female warrior before she could hold back any longer. Now, he was staring intently at the nearest hybrid orc, who, under such gaze, was starting to go mad just like the female warrior, emitting low growling sounds.
“I really doubt how useful you idiot can be.” As Moriel passed by Mary, her mocking words didn’t seem to anger her at all; it even looked like she hadn’t heard them.
Jason, standing in front of a row of spikes, gave Moriel a slight nod, but the latter walked past him with an indifferent expression.
“My role is to take your fancy enchanted whip dagger after you die,” 47 suddenly turned around to retort on his master’s behalf, and the two quickly disappeared into the night.
Back at the Stone of the Future, Moriel ordered 47 to wait outside and attack anyone who tried to sneak up on it. Fortunately, it was nearly midnight, and there were hardly any people on the streets; otherwise, 47 would have had a hard time distinguishing between passersby and intruders.
47 looked up at the sky. Most of the time in the swamp, the sky was lead-gray, with occasional meteors falling from the horizon—once even near the mage tower. 47 had tried using the minerals collected from the crater to strengthen himself, but they were soft and fragile, completely unusable. The sky here wasn’t much cleaner than that of the swamp, but many bright stars could be seen faintly. They moved quickly and often collided with each other, emitting a slightly brighter light before disappearing from sight. Strangely, this kept happening, yet the number of stars in the sky didn’t seem to decrease. 47 noticed that as some stars disappeared, many new ones appeared—only new stars were less noticeable compared to destruction.
Moriel’s call came from inside the room. 47 lowered his head and turned it all the way around, seemingly to relieve the fatigue from staring at the stars for so long, though he couldn’t possibly feel such fatigue.
Moriel looked pale, clearly having exhausted her magic without obtaining any valuable clues.
She murmured tiredly, “That mad dwarf’s demands cannot be refused.”