Quest Rewards (3)

This should be the second-to-last rewards chapter. Devas will finish going through everything in “(4).”

I know reward chapters can be a bit boring to read, so I made sure to give Devas more interactions and inner thoughts in these ones.

Well, I won’t ramble on here. Have a good day, and enjoy the chapter!

(P)(A)(T)/CalleumArtori.

[...]---[...]

The next reward I collected was from secondary objective (5).

It was the most “simple” one, and I was curious about the possible Terraria Pylon. I had already done a lot in this world, but this was the first time a Pylon-related reward had appeared in a mission.

The Pylon Fragment looked pretty much like what I expected.

It was as if someone had broken the Mini-Pylon I had into four pieces, each one representing half of half of an octahedron.

It was light gray. Small—two centimeters at most.

It didn’t emit anything. It was just like an ordinary stone. It didn’t react at all when I pointed it in random directions, hoping it would tremble or pulse somehow, indicating possible locations of the other pieces.

At least I had a vague idea of where to get the other three fragments, since the mission stated that the Kingdom of Terraria was one of the four pillars of the world. I just needed to find the other three.

I tossed the fragment into the Voidbag, alongside the item recipes, the other unnamed items, and the keys I had.

The next secondary objective whose reward I collected was number (2).

Just like in Jille, the reward for defeating the goblins was a fragment of “The First Shadowflame.” According to the description, this one was in much better shape than the fragment I had picked up in Jille.

But, just like the reward from Jille, this Shadowflame was also bound to the same necklace with the black cube.

This flame, unlike the one from Jille, seemed calmer. It didn’t have the aggression or the “brattiness” of the other one. It felt more restrained—almost hesitant, even afraid of me.

I grabbed the chains of the necklace and gently swung it in front of my face, watching the flame ripple and flicker softly.

I could feel my own Shadowflame practically jumping and drooling with hunger, wanting to devour the other one and become more complete again. I sensed that if my flame consumed this one, it would be able to take that final step it needed to evolve.

But I hesitated.

I knew the Shadowflame would recover on its own, even without consuming this one, even if it took a bit longer. So the thought crossed my mind: what if I gave this fragment to someone else?

Dylan, Gilbert, Robyn, Alalia, Charlotte, Selina, or even Isis? I knew some of them could tame the flame, just like I did—even if they wouldn’t reach the same level of connection.

That way, someone else would wield the flame. It would increase the group’s overall power and give them another trump card to protect themselves and the kingdom, in case I wasn’t present in Terraria.

I watched the flame sway for a few seconds, weighing the pros and cons, until my thoughts cleared and I reached a decision.

It was better not to.

As useful as it might be in the short term, I felt it would only become a problem in the future. The Shadowflame should be one. And even if fragments could exist, in the end there could only be a single one—a “core.”

If I gave this flame to someone, eventually mine would have to devour theirs, or theirs would have to devour mine. That would end up being more of a self-inflicted wound than anything else.

Good in the short term. Horrible in the long term.

I could also feel that my own Shadowflame was vehemently opposed to the idea.

After organizing and reorganizing my thoughts a few times to be sure, I didn’t hesitate to extend my hand and insert my finger into the opening of the cube on the necklace, touching the Shadowflame inside.

Instantly, my own Shadowflame reacted, swallowing the new one without any difficulty. Purple devouring purple. Not that the other one resisted.

Just like the other necklace, this one also disintegrated into dust shortly after the flame it contained disappeared.

I felt the Shadowflame, inside the Spiritual Realm, begin to slowly calm down, entering a hibernation-like state as it evolved.

It pulsed and flickered faintly, floating above the lake of black mud on Nightmare Island.

I could still use it, but it would be weaker for the next few days and without the “instinctive awareness” it normally possessed.

(“Want me to keep an eye on it?”) I heard Ozma ask.

(“No need. I’m fully aware of what’s happening there.”) I replied, before cutting the connection.

I then moved on to the rewards from secondary objective (2).

This time, I collected the rewards in the order they were listed in the mission. The first was the reward for killing the Dreadnautilus: the Sanguine Staff.

Like everything that seemed to be born of that Blood Moon, the staff was predominantly blood-red. It was a little over one and a half meters long, reaching just below my chest, slightly above my navel.

The handle was long, taking up most of the length. A dark red, like coagulated blood, with lighter veins spiraling around it in a chaotic pattern.

The “veins” rearranged themselves every time I gripped the handle, changing patterns and pulsing with a soft glow that spread from the point where my palm touched it.

The base was simple—flat and hexagonal.

At the top, there was a small sculpture of a bat with its wings closed. It was a little over twenty centimeters tall, with its wings wrapped around its body like a cloak and its eyes shut.

The material was metallic and non-metallic at the same time. It looked more like coagulated blood mixed with flesh and bone than anything truly mineral.

It wasn’t Crimtane—the Analyze: Item confirmed it. It was an alchemical creation: animal blood condensed and shaped into the form I was holding.

Surprisingly, it had been created with good intentions. Not to cause disaster or mass murder. Even the animals used had been killed for food, not merely for the staff’s creation.

The creator, an ancient “Wizard,” had been a man attuned to nature and, above all, an old… lonely man.

He lived isolated in a tower far from the village and the kingdom, having only the local bats as his “friends” and companions.

Using them as a basis, he created the Sanguine Staff to summon blood bats as familiars. Just something to keep him company, without bothering anyone. He had even included a small matrix of Mystic Symbols beneath the base, which absorbed the scent of blood the staff emitted.

I examined the staff from top to bottom before striking it against the ground, channeling mana into it.

With a dull thud, the bat’s wings at the top of the staff spread open. A sharp screech echoed from the statue’s mouth, and its eyes lit up with an intense crimson glow.

The bat flapped its wings and took flight.

It circled my head a few times before perching upside down to my left, gripping the “air” as a small branch of blood formed beneath its claws. It folded its wings and waited for a command.

The moment it detached from the staff, the smell of blood it emitted began to spread. It was much weaker than that of blood orbs and other items, but it was still noticeable.

Without me doing anything, a new bat began to take shape from the blood at the tip of the staff. It was a slow process; I estimated it would take eight or nine full years—maybe even more—before another one was ready.

That was, of course, assuming no one helped with blood, vitality, or mana to speed up the process.

This passive regeneration method was secondary. The bats had never been meant to be generated this way, but rather through animal blood and vitality transfer rituals.

I let my mana flood into the staff, along with some of my leaking vitality—a direct consequence of my debuffs. The staff heated up and pulsed, rapidly accelerating the bat’s creation.

After a little more than two seconds, another bat was already flying through the air, just like its “older brother.”

I felt like I lost almost a week of my lifespan when I finished energizing the staff. Nothing truly debilitating—and nothing I hadn’t already recovered shortly after the staff finished generating the bat.

The bat created with my vitality was slightly different from the original. It looked more alive, with smoother movements, a more intense color, and a considerably stronger smell of blood.

It mirrored the first bat and settled upside down at my right side.

“Let me test something…” I murmured.

I looked at the blood bat to my left and tapped it twice with the tip of the staff. The bat was absorbed back and reappeared at the staff’s tip.

I did the same with the other one and, as expected, it was also absorbed. But instead of another bat appearing at the tip, a small bat-shaped engraving appeared on the handle, glowing softly in crimson.

I could stack minions…

I wasn’t sure of the total number, but it felt like at least ten or twenty. Maybe a bit more or less. Which was already a considerable amount. I gripped the staff firmly and began pouring mana and vitality into it again.

When the second bat engraving formed on the handle, I felt a hand grab mine. The blue of Jinn’s skin contrasted sharply with the dark red of the staff’s handle.

“Later.” Her tone was gentle. “You said it yourself—you’re not at a hundred percent. Even if the vitality loss doesn’t affect you much, don’t push your body.” She leaned slightly in her chair and glanced at me from the side. “We’re not racing against time…”

I stared at her for a long moment. I opened my mouth as if to argue, then slowly closed it without saying anything.

As much as I wanted to deny it, in a way she was right.

Even though I felt like I was racing against time, I knew I had to force myself to rest—even if only for a little while.

There was no reason to push myself right now. Even if it wouldn’t actually tire me out. There were others who could “charge the staff’s battery.”

“…Alright.” I agreed.

“I’ll leave the Sanguine Staff with Dylan or Robyn in Terraria. It’s extra protection.” I stored the staff in my inventory. Robyn would probably have more affinity for it. “It was created through alchemy. They can study it and try to replicate it.”

With Dylan and Hirael together, I had no doubt that would be possible. Even if they couldn’t recreate the staff exactly, even a lesser or similar creation would already be useful.

I’ll leave some blood orbs too. That should help. Along with other items I don’t use, some potions, and Dust.

Alalia could energize the staff easily. She was the only one I was sure wouldn’t be debilitated by the loss of vitality.

If that wasn’t possible—because she’s a dryad or for any other stupid reason that might come up—they could always use animals to transfer vitality.

Although the exact ritual wasn’t specified in the item’s description, I was sure Dylan, Hirael, Melissa, Alalia, or Helena would know one.

The only one I knew was the one from Jille. But that disgusting thing used parts of that disgusting biome, so it wasn’t really an option.

If none of that worked, the good old archaic method of digging a hole in the ground, filling it with blood, and tossing the staff inside should work just fine.

Jinn simply nodded. There was a satisfied look on her face; I could tell she was genuinely happy that I had listened to her.

[AsuraLady](Emote of a pink-headed zombie extending a closed fist.)

Jinn mimicked Saya’s emote, clenching her fist and punching the air.

Her long black hair swayed lightly before she fixed it with both hands and tied it into a lazy ponytail.

I shook my head and went back to the rewards. The next items I pulled out to analyze were the Haemorrhaxe and the Blood Thorn.

In this case, the first one I pulled out was the Haemorrhaxe.

The moment the item came out of the mission reward screen, I regretted pulling it out.

A rotten, putrid stench filled the area.

It wasn’t the same rot I had felt before, coming from inside the Storm, nor the rot that emanated from Jille’s ink or Shahrabad’s mark—that almost conceptual, nauseating corruption that permeated parts of the World.

This was something simpler and more mundane: the smell of rotten flesh.

The Haemorrhaxe fell to my left with a wet, meaty, extremely heavy thud. The same sound I’d expect if I threw a massive slab of meat—or the mutilated corpse of something the size of an elephant—onto the floor.

The item was huge. Easily close to two meters long.

The handle was thick, uneven, and deformed. Like a bone that had healed wrong. It had a rusty, reddish coloration. It looked like a fusion of bone, metal, and flesh, as if it had been thickened by successive layers of hardened organic matter.

It was covered in countless veins. I could see them moving, almost like worms, pumping blood up and down.

The strangest part was that I couldn’t hear a heart. Or see one. I checked with the Transparent World: there wasn’t one. The blood seemed to be pumping on its own, just because—and fuck if I knew why.

The axe head was disproportionate, larger than it should have been for the handle. The back was thick and vaguely resembled a hammer, but it looked much more like one or two crushed human torsos.

Terrarians, in this case.

It was fleshy, with pieces of yellowed bone—mostly ribs—jutting outward. It was partially covered in rotten skin, but most of it was exposed muscle and meat.

On the opposite side of what looked like a hammer was what should have been the axe blade.

There was no blade. It wasn’t really a blade at all. It was as if someone had taken several fingers, bone fragments, and shoved them into a block of soft flesh, roughly shaping everything into the form of an axe.

It looked partially melted. The veins there acted almost like bindings, intertwining along the “edge” in a serpentine pattern.

Everything was some shade of red or close to it, but nothing was uniform.

There were darker areas, almost black—something coagulated—mixed with lighter regions. Some resembled the purple of bruises; others were bright red; others a brownish, rotten red.

Everything was wet. It reeked of blood, decay… and it was dirtying my entire fucking floor! Damn it!

[(MOD)GeniusBillionairePlayboy]Holy shit… What was it, like two rewards that weren’t a complete bloody mess? Does everything that Blood Moon touches turn to shit or what?!(Iron Man emote with a green face.)

[So-Tan]…Incredibly disgusting. No matter what ability that has, please throw it away.

[(MOD)RedHuntressLive]I think I’m going to puke…(Red Riding Hood emote with a green face.)

[ZombieSlayer]Smells like a Tuesday in Akihabara. We’ve almost cleaned half that area already.

[ZombieSlayer]Oh hey, I showed up here. It’s been a while. I’m Takashi, Devas-Aniki, in case you forgot my nickname!(Zombie with a baseball bat emote.)

I waved away the messages forming in front of me with my hand, dodging the blood dripping from the Haemorrhaxe, and picked up Millia, handing her to Jinn.

The blue-skinned woman carefully took the small slime and placed her on her shoulder. Then she lifted her legs, hugging them to her chest, and rested her feet on the chair as the blood began to spread across the floor of the room.

Her light yellow summer dress rode up, obviously exposing everything underneath.

Thank god the nudity filter was set to one hundred percent, because I could clearly see her underwear—and everyone using Hyper Reality 4D would have seen it too if the filter hadn’t censored everything.

It was a light blue color, a shade lighter than her skin. A curious choice, if I had to say. I thought she’d be the type to wear something like purple or black, maybe gold.

It would suit her quite well, in my opinion.

Actually, forget that—it was surprising enough that she was still wearing underwear at all. Jinn usually hated anything related to panties and bras with a passion.

What was it with the women around me? Every single one of them seemed to have some kind of weird quirk. I don’t think I’ve met a single normal woman since I fell into Terraria…

Some of the guys were fine—well, not many, I’ll admit—but women? I couldn’t think of a single one. That joke about me only attracting lunatics might actually be some kind of curse.

How long would it take for Robyn to start using her tail plug again, I wonder? I could tell she was kind of restless without it before. A month? A week?…

My thoughts tended to wander a lot when I had a headache. Some kind of instinctive distraction my brain created to cope with the pain.

I shoved the random thoughts from my aching mind to the back of my head and stood up from the chair.

“I remember everyone’s nickname, Takashi,” I replied to the message as I walked toward the Haemorrhaxe.

It was only a few steps away. I didn’t bother avoiding the blood on the floor.

As I got closer, the surface of the axe seemed to contract almost imperceptibly. The speed at which the blood was being pumped increased, leaking even more.

I used Shadowflame to burn and clean the entire floor.

I burned the air itself to clear the smell, then sprayed some cleaning products to make the environment at least minimally friendly to human existence. Then I brought my right hand closer to grab the handle.

The moment my fingers neared it, I didn’t even need to touch the Haemorrhaxe for the flesh where I would’ve grabbed it to start moving.

It rippled, folded in on itself, and tried to reach for my hand. It split open with the sound of skin, flesh, and muscle tearing, exposing fragments of bone and teeth inside—like some kind of improvised mouth—snapping at the air.

Even so, it couldn’t stretch more than, at most, about a centimeter.

As much as my instincts told me it wasn’t something that could really pose a threat to me—and that the stream had never given me a reward item capable of actually screwing me over—I still hesitated like hell to touch that thing.

And that was after I’d touched Crimtane just minutes earlier. But in Crimtane’s defense, the metal didn’t look like it was trying to bite me. The Haemorrhaxe very much was.

Taking advantage of the fact that I didn’t need to touch the item directly, I used Analyze: Item, opening the Haemorrhaxe’s status without making contact.

-//-

[Haemorrhaxe (Pseudo-Evolutive)]

Type: Weapon/ToolRarity: Light RedPrefix: Pseudo-Zombie

Damage: 3 ~ 388 ~ 1394 (Scales with absorbed blood and organic matter)Knockback: 7 (Strong)Durability: 45,917,238 / 45,917,238 (Regenerative with blood and organic matter)

[..]

Ability — Pseudo-Zombie:

The Haemorrhaxe imitates something that imitates life. A failed imitation of a failed imitation. A quasi-living item, with a quasi-hunger for the flesh of those who are truly alive.

It absorbs blood, tissues, and organic residue from everything it strikes or touches, including its wielder.

Each hit transfers part of the target’s organic matter into the weapon’s structure. This material solidifies, compacts, and fuses with the body of the Haemorrhaxe, increasing the total weight of the hammer, the internal density of the axe blade, and consequently the damage dealt.

The process does not significantly increase external volume. Instead, flesh, blood, and bone become progressively denser, compressed into an abnormally heavy mass.

Minimum weight: 3.4 kilograms. (7.5 pounds)Maximum weight: 37,982 tons. (41,876 short tons)Current weight: 2,341 tons. (2,580 short tons)

As accumulation approaches the maximum limit, the weapon’s coloration darkens. Bright red gives way to increasingly darker, nearly black tones, the result of extreme compaction of blood-saturated organic matter.

Over time, the Haemorrhaxe consumes the accumulated matter, gradually returning to its base state and requiring new accumulation to maintain peak performance.

[..]

Description:

The Haemorrhaxe is the product of numerous coincidences and accidents.

The item was born from an ordinary iron axe that fell into a lake used, for decades, as a dumping ground.

The lake received the bodies of dead animals, spoiled meat unfit for consumption, viscera, entrails, bones, as well as the corpses of bandits, invaders, and criminals who were executed or abandoned.

Over time, the lake ceased to be water and became a thick mass of blood, decomposing flesh, fragmented bones, and organic waste.

The axe remained submerged for dozens of years.

The blade corroded. The handle rotted. The metal cracked. Instead of disappearing, the axe became a focal point. Coagulated blood, bone fragments, and dead tissue fused to its structure, covering it completely.

The mana present in the lake changed, becoming more viscous and taking on a blood-aligned attribute. The lake became almost like a single Mana Stone, with the axe as its core.

But that alone would not have been enough.

When the reflection of a Blood Moon touched the lake’s red surface, the dead flesh reacted.

Organic remains moved. Inert bodies clumped together and reanimated. The axe, saturated by decades of biological matter and blood, reacted as well.

It did not return as a zombie. It had no eyes to become a Demon Eye. It was not truly dead enough to return to life.

It had never even been alive.

But it had enough mana, rotten flesh, blood, bones, and organs to, by chance, begin imitating the “unlife” of zombies.

An item that does not think, does not feel, does not desire.

It possesses only a single instinct: to devour and absorb all fleshy organic matter it happens to touch, even if only by coincidence.

[..]

~ Flesh, blood, bones… ~

-//-

“Three kilos must be the weight of the original axe—that’s why it’s the minimum weight.” I muttered after reading the description. “…Makes sense,”

That was why the blood inside the Haemorrhaxe was pumping without a heart: it was imitating a heart. Or rather, it was imitating a zombie imitating a heart.

Or better yet: it was imitating the idea that “blood moves because the heart beats; if the heart beats, there is life; if my blood moves, I am alive.”

Even the way it created a “mouth” to try to eat flesh was an imitation. “A mouth chews to eat; if it eats, it’s alive; if I eat, I’m alive.”

It sought life instinctively—and it didn’t even really have instincts. Blood moved toward a heart that didn’t exist. A mouth existed to eat food it didn’t need.

It did what it did because it did… In a way, it was fascinating.

I grabbed the Haemorrhaxe’s handle with my right hand.

I heard a tired sigh from Jinn and Ozma—though the latter sounded more amused. I ignored both of them, along with the (CHAT) comments, and focused on the item.

My fingers literally sank into the handle. The flesh around them gave way, enveloping my fingers, then my hand, growing upward until it stopped just past my wrist.

Then I felt teeth, bones, and bone fragments trying to tear into my skin. Muscles contracted like some kind of fleshy tongue, attempting to crush my bones and flesh.

Blood leaked out in a strangely acidic way, like a bizarre improvised saliva, trying to corrode any organic matter it touched to facilitate absorption…

…And absolutely none of it had any effect.

I didn’t even have to do anything, really. I didn’t protect myself with any energy or item, despite having both rings equipped on my right hand.

The Haemorrhaxe trying to eat my hand was the equivalent of a two-year-old trying to eat a rock they found on the ground.

It had the same result too: the “teeth” cracked and broke, the “mouth’s” skin bled, the “tongue” did nothing and tore as well, and the “saliva” had no effect whatsoever.

But unlike a child, who would feel pain and stop, this thing just kept going.

It regenerated the damage, kept trying to devour my hand, failed, regenerated the damage, kept trying to devour my hand…

It stayed in that retarded cycle for almost a full minute before finally giving up. The flesh, muscles, and bones withdrew, along with some of the blood—not all of it; it seemed unable to reabsorb blood past a certain distance.

Even though it had no thoughts and only a single instinct, that instinct was still “devour and absorb all fleshy organic matter.” With emphasis on fleshy, this thing probably didn’t eat plants, nor minerals or metals. It might absorb iron, even if only in tiny amounts.

Anything that wasn’t flesh wasn’t absorbed. If it were, it would’ve tried to eat the floor—and it hadn’t.

So after a minute of trying to eat my hand without a single gram of success, I figured it had basically cataloged me as: “This thing is not meat.”

With me off the menu, I finally started testing the Haemorrhaxe. I gripped the handle and lifted the axe, swinging it casually a few times in front of me.

Blood and rotten chunks of flesh flew across the room. I made sure none of it touched Jinn, Millia, or the nameless fox.

I didn’t care if the blood splattered onto the panels, keyboards, or system components of Proto-A. If something could be damaged by blood alone, this ship would’ve melted during the Blood Moon.

Everything—including the internal sections—was reinforced and packed with multiple Mystic Symbol matrices and countless Runes.

And that was with the ship not even finished yet.

I still had to complete several Mystic Symbol matrices and add even more Runes. I also needed to modify some of the existing matrices to accommodate the new Mystic Symbols and Runes I had acquired.

After a few swings, I planted the head of the Haemorrhaxe against the floor and leaned on the handle. It was disgusting as hell, but nothing I hadn’t dealt with before.

Being covered in blood, mud, and goblin corpses back in Jille. Exploring the antlion nest in Shahrabad, under the rain of a Blood Moon, beneath the direct gaze of 'The Eye'.

Even the sins I carried in the shadows were more revolting than this.

In the end, the Haemorrhaxe was just what it was: rotten flesh and blood, nothing more.

As for its ability, it was simple—but absurdly effective and useful. It was like a meatier, far more disgusting evolution of Houtengeki’s ability.

I tossed a few dead animals onto the Haemorrhaxe to see what would happen, and the result was exactly what I expected: the item “swallowed” them effortlessly and became heavier and tougher.

No animal lasted more than a second or two before being melted, chewed, and absorbed by the axe’s flesh. It was almost like watching Styrofoam dissolve in alcohol—just far more grotesque and bloody.

The axe’s “blade,” if I could even call that thing a blade—or an axe, really—also became sharper, despite remaining completely misshapen and lined with extra “teeth.”

The Haemorrhaxe also gained some traits from the animals it absorbed. Parts of the bone in the blade were the fangs of the wolf, the rabbit, and the boar I fed it. The softer flesh went to the handle; the harder material reinforced the “hammer” portion.

Instinctively, the item organized organic matter in an efficient way.

This was basically the perfect weapon for open-field slaughter. The more I killed, the more bodies it absorbed, the heavier and sturdier it became, and the more damage it dealt—making it even easier to kill more and more.

And that wasn’t even counting the fact that the item could theoretically evolve. Probably by feeding it the flesh and blood of powerful creatures—something I’d test later, slowly, to find its limits.

I couldn’t just toss 'The Eye’s' flesh at this thing without expecting it to explode or turn into some kind of abomination covered in eyes and tentacles.

I fed the axe-hammer a few more times before tossing it into the Voidbag and cleaning the room until it no longer looked like the aftermath of a massacre.

With that done, I moved on to the second reward for killing the Hemogoblin Shark: the Blood Thorn.

Honestly, when I pulled the item out of the reward screen, I was expecting the stench of blood that almost every other item had.

So it’s fair to say I was surprised when a sweet, soft scent—almost like honey—hit my nose.

It was far more pleasant than the smell of blood, but for some reason, I didn’t like it at all. Part of me found that scent utterly repulsive.

It was the kind of sweetness that made my stomach churn. Frankly, I even thought the smell of blood would’ve been better—I was already used to it, after all.

I stared at the item in my hands.

The Blood Thorn wasn’t exactly a thorn: it was a blood-red crystal, colored similarly to blood orbs.

Its shape resembled a blooming rose, with its petals pointing upward. Each “petal” looked like an inverted heart, lighter at the center and darkening into an almost black red at the tip.

The “petals” overlapped one another. There were probably twenty or thirty of them; I didn’t bother counting.

The rose itself stood a little over ten centimeters tall and had a radius of about twenty—maybe twenty-five—centimeters. The stem was close to thirty centimeters long; it was irregular and looked fragile, but like the Terragrim, it didn’t crack or break when I squeezed it.

I noticed some kind of flaw running through the center of the stem. Thin fractures extended upward toward the flower before vanishing.

The crystal’s overall coloration was a vivid red on the outside, but it darkened the deeper you looked inside. The edges and tips of the petals were darker as well.

The center was such a deep red that it was almost indistinguishable from black.

I used Analyze: Item.

-//-

[Blood Thorn]

Type: Weapon/MaterialRarity: Light PurplePrefix: None

Damage: ??? ~ ??? (Depends on the quantity, quality, and potency of available blood)Knockback: 1 (Extremely weak)Durability: 100,000,000 / 100,000,000

[..]

Ability — Hematic Resonance:

The Blood Thorn reacts to the presence of spilled blood in the environment.

When activated, the crystal enters resonance with blood present in the ground, the air, or nearby living bodies. This resonance forces the blood to temporarily crystallize, forming hematic spikes that erupt from the ground, walls, or nearby solid surfaces.

The damage, range, and number of spikes generated depend directly on the volume of blood in the area, the state of that blood, and the vital potency associated with it.

The Blood Thorn cannot generate blood on its own, but it can control almost any type of blood.

[..]

Description:

The Blood Thorn forms naturally in extremely deep underground regions where oceans of blood have been spilled over countless years.

Ancient battlefields, mass graves, sacrificial grounds, and sites of prolonged massacres create the necessary conditions.

Over time, the soil becomes saturated and can no longer absorb blood—it begins to retain it.

Geological pressure, the continuous accumulation of liquid organic matter, the influence of magical climatic events, and the concentration of mana in the region where the blood was shed force the blood to crystallize slowly, layer by layer.

The result is a rigid, dense, razor-sharp crystal that resembles a rose formed from extraordinarily beautiful crystals.

The greater the amount of blood spilled, the longer it flows, and the longer the ground remains soaked, the larger the crystal becomes.

Blood Thorns are extremely rare—and even more rarely found intact.

Their coloration ranges from vivid red to deep scarlet, depending on the purity and origin of the blood that formed them.

The more petals a Blood Thorn has, the stronger the crystal.

Large crystals can generate multiple smaller secondary crystals. These smaller ones have fractures within their “stems,” marking the points where they were once connected to the larger crystal.

[..]

~ Summons blood thorns from the ground… ~

-//-

“…Light Purple. I wasn’t expecting that,” I murmured, holding the crystal by its stem. “Oceans of blood… just how literal was that?”

I also understood why the sweet scent disgusted me. The smell came from blood in its purest, crystallized form—like hardened caramel made of sugar.

It was something even purer than blood orbs.

How many lives was I holding in my hands right now?… At least a few million? Tens of millions? Billions?… How much blood had soaked the earth to create something like this?…

The most ironic part was that the Blood Thorn I was holding had internal fractures in its stem—in other words, it was only a secondary crystal.

It also had “only” thirty-three petals—I counted to be sure.

I had no real metric to tell whether that number was high or low, but taking all the information into account, along with what I knew about just how fucked up this world was, I’d say thirty-three was a pretty small number.

A cold shiver ran up my spine, crawling slowly like an insect, as an image began to take shape in my mind.

A beautiful image.

A terrifying image.

An image painted in blood.

The image of a colossal crystal flower blooming in an unimaginably deep cavern, with tens of thousands of massive red petals pointing upward, reaching for a Sun they were never meant to see.

Its titanic stem descended even deeper; millions of crystal roots nearly touched hell itself, spreading in every direction, where millions of other smaller crystal flowers bloomed in the darkness of the abyss.

Above them, slowly dripping over thousands of kilometers of land like a gentle rainfall, was a gigantic ocean of blood, filled with corpses…

My thoughts really did wander when I had a headache.

[...]---[...]

It’s funny how many “bombs” exist in Terraria.

This crystal flower is another one of them. Devas has been on the planet for less than a year and has already disarmed four major “bombs” in that time, plus several smaller ones. Any ideas what those four might be?

That said, good morning everyone, and enjoy the read!