Chương 21: Silt-Claw Canal

We crested a small rise, and there it was in the distance. The Silt-Claw Canal looked less like a fancy irrigation project and more like a stubborn river that had decided to cut a path through a graveyard of smooth, jagged stones. The water was surprisingly clear, rushing over a grey stone bedding that shimmered under the sun, but the scenery was currently being ruined by three very familiar, very ugly shapes.

The trio of Bovine Crustaceans were loitering around the water's edge like a group of high school bullies at a drinking fountain. They were just as hideous as the last batch, their stony shells glistening with spray from the canal and their eye stalks twitching in search of something to crush. Elias came to a halt beside us, his face twisting into a mask of rural despair as he gestured toward the waterway with a trembling hand.

"The Silt-Claw Canal is the very lifeblood of our folk," Elias lamented, his voice sounding like a funeral dirge for a dry well.

"Tis the only source of pure, clean water for every soul in Oakhaven. With those foul, armored devils claiming the banks as their own, our vats run dry and our children go thirsty. Without that water, our village is but a memory waiting to fade into the dust." I took a quick mental stock of my internal batteries. My mana bar had refilled during our little nature walk, glowing with that familiar sapphire hum that told me I was back in business.

I was locked, loaded, and surprisingly eager to start making things go boom again.

"Well, we can't have the kids drinking dirt just because some cows decided they wanted to be crabs," I said, giving the cylinder of my revolver a quick, dramatic spin.

"Let us go ahead and evict the culprits from the premises. I am feeling particularly generous with my blue-flavored eviction notices today." Dimitri didn't need a second invitation. He stood tall, his massive frame blotting out a significant portion of the horizon as he raised his notched iron sword and that glorious, rotting barrel lid.

"The thirst for justice is a fire that no water can extinguish!" Dimitri bellowed, his thick accent making the words sound like they were being carved into stone.

"Come, my brother! We shall clear the path so that the river of life may flow once more! To protect the weak is to find the greatest strength of all!" He began to march toward the canal with the unstoppable momentum of a freight train made of kindness and iron. I followed right in his shadow, my grip tight on the Training Prototype 7, ready to see if these three new targets were prepared for the legendary saga of the Russian Wall and the Lethal Weeb.

Dimitri didn't just start the fight; he threw a verbal flashbang at the entire concept of subtlety. He planted his boots into the silt and let out a roar so tectonic I felt my own teeth rattle in their sockets. The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

"Iron Vow!" he bellowed, his voice booming with the authority of a man who genuinely believes that being a human punching bag is a sacred calling. Suddenly, the big guy started pulsing with a fierce, crimson light, looking like a very buff, very Russian emergency flare. It worked instantly. The three Bovine Crustaceans, who had been minding their own business staring at the water, snapped their eye-stalks toward him with a collective click of pure, unadulterated hatred.

They forgot I even existed, which was exactly how I liked my Tuesdays. All three of the steak-tanks charged at once, a literal ton of angry seafood and beef slamming into Dimitri's position. But the Russian Wall didn't budge. He met the swarm with his notched blade and that legendary rotting barrel lid, the sound of chitin slamming against iron echoing across the canal like a rhythmic construction site.

"Your anger is but the wind against the mountain, my friends!" Dimitri shouted over the clatter of mandibles, his face locked in a mask of aggressive kindness as he deflected horns and pincers. While he was busy playing a high-stakes game of keep-away, I leveled the Training Prototype 7. I zeroed in on the nearest monster, the one currently trying to turn Dimitri's shin into a snack.

I could feel the familiar, cool hum of my mana pool draining, exactly one point of magical juice flowing down my arm and into the chamber of the revolver.

"Revolver Style Tier 1: Arcane Discharge!" I yelled, mostly because it felt like the kind of thing that needed to be announced to the neighbors. The gun didn't just fire; it sang. A bolt of concentrated sapphire energy hissed through the air, traveling faster than the creature could blink its weird little eye-stalks. The mana bullet connected with the side of its head with a wet, heavy thud. The Bovine Crustacean didn't even have time to reconsider its life choices.

Its legs gave out mid-scuttle, and it hit the dirt with a shuddering thud that sent a spray of silt into the air. As I felt the recoil settle in my wrist, the System's voice chimed in my head, as dry and professional as a tax auditor. Dimitri was a whirlwind of wholesome violence, leaning into his role as a human bulldozer with terrifying enthusiasm. He lowered his shoulder and slammed that rotting barrel lid into the second Bovine Crustacean with a sound like a wet sack of flour hitting a concrete wall.

The impact sent the beast reeling, its six legs scrambling for purchase on the slippery stones of the canal. While Big Sunshine was busy playing bumper cars with the livestock, the third monster decided it was the perfect time to go for a flanking maneuver. It lowered its stony head and prepared to charge Dimitri's exposed side with its jagged horns. I pivoted on my heel and leveled the Prototype 7. I squeezed the trigger twice in a heartbeat, sending two sapphire orbs of mana screaming through the air.

The bolts left glowing trails in their wake as they raced toward the monster's thick skull. The first bullet cracked against its armor, and the second one found a soft spot right behind the eye stalk. The Bovine Crustacean froze mid-charge, standing there for a confused second as it stared me down with a look of deep betrayal before its legs turned to jelly and it hit the ground with a satisfying crunch. Dimitri let out a joyous roar that probably cleared the sinuses of every bird within a five mile radius.

"Now is the moment, my brother! Strike while the iron of fate is hot!" he shouted, his Russian accent booming over the sound of the rushing water. With a surge of pure, unadulterated muscle, he didn't just push the monster he was facing; he launched it. He shoved his shield upward with a grunt of effort, sending the last Bovine Crustacean airborne. It was a majestic and deeply stupid sight to see a multi-ton cow-crab flailing its chitinous legs in the sky like a very confused, very heavy bird.

I didn't waste the trajectory. I tracked the flying beef-tank through my sights, my finger dancing on the trigger. I sent two more blue mana slugs whistling into the air, catching the creature square in the head while it was still hovering at the peak of its accidental flight. The monster was hit twice in the skull, its body going limp and dying before it even had the chance to hit the ground.