God of Zero Cost

Ethan dropped to one knee before the dissolving piles of ash, pulling a copper-scaled skinning knife from his belt wrap. His fingers moved with practiced, unsentimental velocity as he stripped away the coarse bristle pelts, elastic tendons, body fats, and heavy yellow fangs from the Rephaim remains.

Nothing goes to waste, he thought, shoving the raw crafting materials into his heavy canvas pack.

He stood up, slinging his leather pouch back over his shoulder, and gestured for his main Scarab golem to re-converge its split sub-unit back into its central chassis. The clay beetle absorbed its smaller twin with a dull, heavy squelch, resealing its outer plates as it fell into step behind him.

The narrow, damp limestone track began to widen out, the jagged stone ceiling slanting sharply upward until the path broke into a massive, hollow clearing buried deep within the heart of the mountain.

Standing dead center in the rocky clearing was a towering, spectral monument that chilled the air: Tzelem Bela, the Ghost of Zoar.

Unlike the wild, fast-scrambling beasts near the surface, this phantom warrior loomed large in the amber gloom, wearing an ancient, primitive pattern of tattered hide armor reinforced with coarse, un-polished bronze discs. He carried a broad, weathered willow-and-hide round shield in his left hand, and his ghostly eyes stared through the slits of a heavy, dented helm.

Ethan stepped into the shadows of the cave wall, his eyes narrowing as his perception locked onto the phantom’s equipment.

Bela? Ethan wondered confused. This dungeon run seems different.

The ghost raised a rusted bronze khopesh and let out a low, hollow moan that echoed off the limestone vault, charging straight down the center line with his heavy bronze-bossed shield raised to plow through Ethan's defence.

"Hold it," Ethan commanded Scarab golem MK II.

The Scarab golem lunged forward to meet the impact, its heavy clay leg pillars anchoring deep into the loose cavern gravel. The spectral king slammed his heavy willow shield full-force into the beetle's chest. The second ceramic shell cracked open with a sharp crack, but the phantom's momentum didn't shatter the core—the front of his shield plunged straight into the internal, hollow chamber, sinking deep into the sticky tar Ethan had laid hidden within its shell.

The suction locked the phantom's shield inside the clay beetle. The ghost king roared, his muscles straining violently as he tried to wrench his shield free from the golem's tar-choked chest.

Got you,Ethan thought, stepping out from the left flank with his sling already whirring in a ferocious, low-pitched blur.

At a distance of less than ten feet,Ethan released the strap.

The iron-reinforced stone punched through the air like a hammer blow, striking dead center into the exposed throat gap of the phantom's neck. נֶפֶשׁ (Nephesh)!

The metallic stone struck the windpipe with a sickening, heavy CRACK. The system let out a deep, bass-heavy critical-hit chime. The sub-boss’s towering figure hunched over his clay beetle, fracturing and letting out a violent cloud off grey ash.

Ethan walked over and cleared away the dark ash. His hands blurred as he pried and stripped the unpolished bronze discs off the body.

Turning back to look at his golem. The small round shield was still stuck in it. Ethan reached out, his fingers brushing against the solid material and picked up the shield. The second the system data populated across his vision, his jaw tightened as the real world history caked into the item text hit his brain.

Ethan lifted the tattered round shield, his eyes flashing as he inspected the heavy bronze embedded into the center wood. The stats on this shield was nothing like The Footstool of Zaphon but the bronze raw material was still worth the effort.

Ethan reach for his bronze trowel and started dismantling the shield, discarding the frayed hide and rotten willow wood. He packed the bronze parts into his pack and turn towards the path that led onwards.