Grand Saint Alloy

Ray stabbed the crab at least twenty times before he hit something vital. The combat knife he was using was able to crack the top plate after multiple strikes to the same point. Clive had tears in his eyes, Tristan could only shake his head at the sight. If the man could be terrified by a crab the size of a sheep dog, no wonder he was scared of silver blooded demons.

Ray screamed, holding his gut as he rolled off the crustacean. The front of his tunic had some blood on it, but not enough to warrant the amount of noise he was making. He pulled up his shirt and looked down at his stomach. There was a large welt that was quickly scabbing over. Tristan realized that the little crab had stung Ray through the unbuttoned front of his gambeson.

Panic seemed to be taking over as Ray started hyper ventilating, “It stabbed me, the tail. Oh God, I’m going to be hollowed out, I’m going-“

Bruce smacked him, “Dude, stop over reacting. Nothing is going to happen. We’ll just go back to the fort and get it taken care of. We have a month.”

Ray’s breathing slowed, but his body was still trembling in fear. Tristan had a little pity for him, despite the lack of danger, it could not feel good to have a little creature growing inside you. Though, most women seemed to go though it without reacting like this.

“Hey guys?” Eve said, getting the team’s attention, “Do you think we can handle that?”

Tristan looked over and saw the corn rustle before disgorging a ghost crab the same size as a cow. If he remembered Kale’s lessons on monster biology, the crab would grow to the same size and tier as the creature it hatched from. Cows were around tier three, if they were put on a tier scale.

Tristan gave his answer, “Sure, its big, but I killed a tier three elemental by myself, so we should be good.”

The elemental would probably be more dangerous. They could regenerate, had only one weak spot, and had an elemental affinity. Tristan was confident until two more crabs followed the first and a dozen little ones scuttled between its claws.

Bruce looked up at Tristan, “Sage, do you think we can handle that?”

“No, we need to run,” Tristan said, he hoped these things were slow runners.

Eve trembled, knuckles white on her spear, “Where, they are blocking our way back.”

“The farmer community, we need to get there,” Bruce said. He picked up his spear and yelled, “Follow me!”

It turned out that the Ghost Crabs were just as fast as humans. Bruce and Eva quickly took the lead with their tier two physiques. Desperation, drove Ray, while Tristan almost had to drag Clive along. The man had a freeze reflex, instead of a fight or flight reflex.

They only had to make it around a half a mile. Fortunately, Tristan had been running for the last few years, so it was an easy distance. They rounded a corn field to find a large dirt lot with a huge wooden building taking up its center. Some residences were built to share a wall with the warehouse.

They had to run through a large stretch of empty ground. The group was slowed down by the wheel ruts that created trip hazards. Unfortunately, the ruts only slowed down the humans. The ghost crabs had the benefit of multiple pairs of legs, allowing them to scuttle over rough terrain more efficiently.

They made it to the warehouse door. Bruce slammed into it shoulder first, forgetting it opened outward. He cursed, reversing his direction and pulling on the door instead.

Tristan had turned to face the crabs only to hear, “The door is locked!”

Tristan felt an inner conflict for a few moments. Should he toss his sword breaker and have Bruce cut the lock? He did not want the Golden Heart heir to handle his precious weapons. Alternatively he could run the ten feet over to the door, shove Bruce out of the way and cut the lock. This would waste to much time and they would clash with the crabs. Tristan would be safe as he would be right beside the entrance.

The deciding factor ended up being pitiful. If people were going to look on him with disgust, he wanted to know that he had the moral high ground. Even if that was just in his head.

Tristan unclipped the sword breaker and tossed it to Bruce, “cut the lock with this.”

He caught the knife and looked at it confused. Tristan was no longer paying attention. He was here to forge himself. He just did not think his first chance would be so soon.

The ghost crabs closed in on them, but Tristan no longer ran. So long as he killed the big ones nothing else mattered. Sure the little ones could fill him with eggs, but a single dose of poison was just as good for one as it was for a hundred.

He charged at them. The first large crab could not stop in time when Tristan planted his spear like a pike. Unfortunately, the tier three crabs carapace was more durable than the shaft.

It’s two scythes wrapped around, aiming at Tristans waste, but instead of backing away, he charged under its carapace, running his blade along its underside. The short sword was more than long enough to reach something vital.

Tristan came out the other side, feeling exhilarated. Something serrated smashed into his shoulder. The gambeson took the bulk of the strike, but it still sawed through the armor. He rolled across the dirt and came to rest by the third ghost crab.

He barely rolled out of the way of the stinger. The spike missed, but the bulb it was set into didn’t. Tristan saw stars as it made contact with his skull, but he still had the presence of mind to cut off the last joint on the nearest three legs.

The crab staggered, but caught itself on one of it’s scythe like claws. So, he cut the stinger that was still lodged in the dirt off. Several of the little ones tried to stab him, but they lacked the force to get through the armor.

Tristan scrambled beneath the one he had just crippled to avoid the third crab. This gave him a few moments to think while cutting down the little ones.

He needed to drain his essence, he still had no idea how to do that. He did not want to get sawed open to get access to his own blood. He was still too low of a tier to create things like Siren or Hadrid did. Chase was a tier one, he could push essence into artifacts, that meant Tristan could as well.

He tried to push essence into his knife. It worked. It was here that he ran into his second issue. The knife itself was not running low, the last time it was only because dark essence was able to sap the essence from the reservoirs.

A sharp pain in his hand brought him back to reality. One of the little guys had gotten his hand with its stinger. Tristan cursed and grabbed the tail and dove his blade through it. He was angry, he had a plan, and it looked like he would not be able to get anything for his effort,

With a yell he cut off the other three legs while rolling out. The last big crab pounced on the exposed Tristan. He dodged the claws and blocked the stinger on the flat of his blade. It was fast, but Luke was way faster. Tristan could only thank his crazy friend for keeping his promise to train Tristan.

Despite the blocks impressiveness, it still shoved the blade backwards. Tristan received a cut on the hand he used to brace the flat. He barely managed to keep his feet. The serrated claws scissored his waste.

This time he had nowhere to go but he remembered something else that Siren had done. He had made his blood viscous, maybe he could do that. Tristan pushed as much essence as he could to the points of impact.

The armor absorbed a great deal of the force. But not enough, the claws still cut into his hips. And stopped, like they hit a wall. Blood did leak out over the edge of the scythe like claws and it was tinged silver.

Tristan did not give up this chance. In order to strike Tristan the crab had to be close enough to receive a strike. He drove his two foot blade through its brain.

The crab slumped to the ground. Tristan stared at his hands and started laughing. He won. He found a way to make this work without running his blades low on essence. He laughed because the cut on his hand had nicked the egg in his hand. He laughed because his life was crazy, and he loved it.

Tristan walked over to the last tier three ghost crab with a grin. He kicked a little one out of the way, before slicing its scythes off. Gripping the crab by the stub of its stinger, Tristan started hauling it back to the team.