Whispers of A Dead Empire

Chapter 25

 I slid my arm through the metal rungs I created and held the shield. It was heavy, but not as heavy as it could have been, thankfully. The undead shouldn't have too big of an issue with it. But I'll do my best to keep the weight reduced. It felt nice, though maybe it was a little uncomfortable. I set the shield down and walked over to the sword, which was almost done being created.

Thankfully, the template held a scabbard for it, which would mean easier transportation. Maybe for the undead, it wouldn't matter, but it was more than good enough for me. I still had to create a few more templates for weapons, along with armor. Ugh, so much work, such little time.

I set the shield down on the floor next to my desk and walked over to the crate of swords. Since I wouldn't need these anymore, I shall consume them for their material. I picked up a sword and studied it for a moment. I should keep one, mostly for memory's sake. I set the sword to the side and selected the entire box, and consumed everything with it, watching as the steel resource pile quickly grew. I wish I got the leather with it though, that would have been nice.

I walked back over to my desk, grabbed the blade's handle, and pulled it from its scabbard. It felt heavy, and the balance seemed to be good. However, I wasn't quite certain since I have never held a sword before this point. I gave it a few test swings before placing it back into its sheathe. Good, I should get a few more created. This, however, will join the other sword as a memory. I placed it on the ground next to the old sword variant and sat down.

Now I should design some other weapon templates: nothing too extreme, but enough for variety in my domain. I was stuck in a fantasy world. So what weapons would excel here? I need for sure a spear, and a polearm, and maybe a weapon for blunt force. That would be the collection of weapons I work with at the moment, though I do want more variety later on. I quickly glanced towards the other crates as I thought about future weapons and saw some arrows. Maybe I could also revamp the bow template?

I already had a bow template to tweak, so my job was already slightly easier. I selected the template and spawned it in, and saw that it was in horrible condition. The wood was rotting and flaking away, and it looked ready to snap at any moment. I gripped the moist bow handgrip and ran my fingers across the string. I wished I took the time to learn how to use the bow. Never once thinking that I would ever have to use one, but nothing that I could do about that now. I picked the bow up and pointed it in a random direction, and pulled the string back as far as I could.

It bent and creaked as the force threatened to tear it apart. Once it hit its maximum point, I let the string go. The bow immediately shattered, and the string whipped out, and a stinging pain immediately spread across my cheek before I could react. A yelp escaped my lips as I dropped the shattered remains of the bow.

"Stupid fucking bow," I muttered under my breath as I brushed my hands off. I could feel a warm trail running down my face, and I instantly knew it was blood. Fucking great. I walked over to the cot and grabbed the towel that I created, and pressed it to my face to help staunch the flow of blood. Common sense told me I shouldn't have done that, but hindsight is twenty-twenty.

I shot a glance at my health bar and saw that it trickled down a few points, and I had a minor bleeding status effect. I pressed the towel harder against my face and stared at the string, trying to draw my attention from the rhythmic throb of the fresh wound. With a quick gesture, I consumed the destroyed bow. Much to my surprise and chagrin, I absorbed the various pieces individually and even got the bowstring.

Really? All I had to do was that? I really just lost all that leather for nothing? The pain radiating from the open wound on my face, plus the irritation of realizing that I messed up, was too much for me. A scream forced its way through my mouth as my irritation turned to anger.