Apocalypse Gachapon

The numerous Swordthorn Grass stems merged together, forming a short sword slightly over one meter in length. At this point, it no longer bore any plant-like characteristics, appearing completely metallic.

Ye Zhongming swung it a few times, slashed and stabbed at the ground, then quickly evaluated the weapon.

Roughly equivalent to Green-grade quality.

Strangely, while his Smith and Gardener jobs remained intact here, along with all his skills, the items he crafted with his own hands showed neither the glow indicative of their grade nor any specific attributes.

The materials were just too ordinary.

Swordthorn Grass was decent as a material, but relying solely on it was too limiting. If Ye Zhongming had had Ghost Metal or Drill Metal, along with some other materials, the resulting short sword could have easily reached Gold-grade.

Still, having this weapon was better than nothing. Gripping the short sword, Ye Zhongming continued his exploration.

The person earlier had mentioned this was a trial. With that in mind, he wasn’t worried about not knowing what to do—”trouble” would come find him on its own.

Sure enough, before Ye Zhongming could locate suitable materials for defensive gear, “trouble” arrived.

Two massive serpents—or rather, flood dragons.

Each had a single horn on its head and four claws along its body. If not for the lack of dragon whiskers, a dragon tail, dragon scales, or a dragon’s head, Ye Zhongming might have mistaken them for prototypes of Eastern dragons.

What excited Ye Zhongming wasn’t their draconic resemblance, but something else he recognized on their bodies—

Demon Crystals!

In this inexplicable place, encountering something familiar—even if it was an enemy—gave him an odd sense of familiarity.

Unfortunately, these two “familiar” creatures weren’t friendly. Worse, they were level eight.

Back on Earth, even ten level-eight lifeforms wouldn’t have been a problem—he’d have had over a dozen ways to deal with them. But now? All he had was a Green-grade short sword.

He swung his right arm, attempting to unleash Thousand Seal Blade Slash—but froze when nothing happened.

No effect. No response.

One of the flood dragons roared and lashed its tail, sending Ye Zhongming flying.

The impact forced a grimace, but he quickly regained his footing, darting sideways in a flanking maneuver.

The level-eight flood dragons had assumed that mealtime had arrived. In this jungle, few creatures could withstand even a single strike from them—this puny thing should’ve been no exception.

They pivoted simultaneously, their massive bodies unnervingly agile. Pushing off with their hind claws, they swung around—

Only to find the human already right in front of them.

Such speed shocked them. Instinctively, they lunged to bite—but suddenly, their bodies grew heavier.

Squelch!

Blood sprayed as one flood dragon’s throat was sliced open, the metallic scent saturating the air.

The other, seeing its mate wounded, raged. It launched itself into the air, its horn aimed at Ye Zhongming mid-swing.

A light tap on the injured flood dragon’s body gave Ye Zhongming just enough leverage to dodge sideways—

But unequipped and still adjusting, his timing was slightly off. The horn grazed him.

The King of Cloud Peak went flying again.

Yet, like before, he rose immediately, using the dense foliage to reposition.

The wounded flood dragon now kept its head low, trying to staunch the bleeding—but its eyes burned with murderous intent.

Meanwhile, Ye Zhongming’s body was now clad in black armor. At the last moment before impact, he’d activated the Black Earth Armor via the Earth Spirit.

But cracks already spiderwebbed across its surface, on the verge of shattering.

Black Earth Armor lasted up to an hour, its durability depleting with each hit. That single graze had nearly destroyed it outright. A direct hit would’ve shattered it instantly.

Ye Zhongming also noted that here, elemental spirits consumed more energy. On Earth, this armor could’ve tanked two to three direct strikes from a level-eight creature. Here? A glancing blow almost broke it.

Recasting the armor, he charged again, ordering the Earth Spirit to maintain the gravity field hampering the flood dragons.

Another slash landed on the already wounded one. Trying to stem the bleeding, it kept its head lowered—restricting its mobility. Between Ye Zhongming’s erratic speed and the gravity, one of its foreclaws was severed!

This time, Ye Zhongming learned his lesson. After severing the claw, he didn’t waste time retrieving the short sword (whose low tier meant it only worked thanks to his personal prowess). Instead, he pivoted behind the flood dragon and—

Crunch!

A punch landed squarely on its spine.

First, a “pop” reverberated through the air—then the crisp snap of bone.

The flood dragon convulsed once before collapsing, its body limp.

Ye Zhongming’s punch had shattered its spine.

The remaining flood dragon snapped. It coiled around Ye Zhongming in a flash, muscles contracting—attempting to crush him into paste.

Unfazed, Ye Zhongming deliberately raised his hands. One pressed against the flood dragon’s snapping jaws to keep them from his head; the other punched its body in rapid succession.

The deadlock lasted a full minute.

By the end, Ye Zhongming’s armor had disintegrated. His bones creaked under the pressure, his face flushed—clearly, the death squeeze was taking its toll.

Yet the King of Cloud Peak showed no panic. He kept punching until, gradually, the flood dragon’s grip loosened. Like its mate, it slumped lifelessly.

Ye Zhongming extracted himself, retrieved his short sword, and finished off the first flood dragon with a stab. Then, he got to work—skinning, deboning, and harvesting.

Right now, he was a penniless upstart. Everything was valuable. The hides would become leather armor; the bones and sinew, backup materials; even the meat was packed—just in case better food sources were scarce here.

The entire encounter, from battle to cleanup, took seven to eight minutes—far too long for safety.

As his figure vanished into the jungle, two silhouettes emerged from the shadows.

One wore the bronze mask and black robe of an escort; the other was the multicolored-haired instructor who’d sent Ye Zhongming’s group in.

“Beautiful Heaven Body—impressive! But what was that armor that suddenly appeared on him?” the masked figure mused.

The instructor frowned. “Resembles the Grey Pigeon Tribe’s Earth Sealing Technique, but I’m not certain.”

Nodding, the masked figure gazed where Ye Zhongming had disappeared.

“This trash… might be passable.”