Poison Grease Elden Ring Novels & Stories

“Tessa, my attendant, was poisoned. That poison was for me but the attacker mistakenly stabbed her. She's in a critical condition. The doctor said it's a rare poison named Ampivorus. The antidote can only be found in the Tysilcon valley.” “Tysilcon Valley is in the enemy pack. The Gray Stone pack is dangerous.” One of the boys steps forward. “The doctor gave her a temporary antidote. She's weak at the moment but if I don't get the permanent antidote within a week, she'll die.” “I don't care how dangerous it is, bring me the antidote by any means,” I order. They all pass each other a glance. “You're crazy,” Ren whispers. “Will you do it?”

He signaled down into the abyss, and a dozen more elite warriors swarmed up behind him, their breathing heavy but controlled. "Now," Vance whispered. Renard dropped his torch. From the darkness of the high crags, thirty heavy wooden barrels were kicked over the edge. They tumbled down the vertical rock face, bouncing violently against the granite protrusions and spraying a thick, dark, viscous fluid over the climbing lanes. It was unrefined whale oil, mixed with sulfur and boiled pine tar—a mixture so dense that even the torrential downpour could not wash it from the stone. The Janissaries screamed as the foul-smelling grease coated their hands, their ropes, and their leather armor, instantl

Their dark golden armor linked together to form an unbreakable steel wall beneath the flames. Kaelen stood alone before the tavern’s broken wooden gate, clad only in his black windbreaker with no armor. Behind him, Bruno gripped his broadsword and directed soldiers to seal off every underground exit, his expression stern. Inside the tavern. The one-eyed Dark Blood contact realized they were exposed and made no move to surrender. BOOM! A dull detonation echoed from the basement. He activated the tavern’s built-in self-destruction array. Swirls of dark green toxic fumes gushed out through every crack and gap. This high-grade poison was fiercely corrosive, eating away flesh the moment it touche

"The seal is holding, but the pressure is building! The nanites are generating heat as they eat!" ​"Let them eat," I said, my teeth clenched. "Harl, trigger the pressure release on level four. Direct the grey dust into the primary forge." ​"What? Elara, that dust is toxic!" ​"It’s also refined carbon and silicate," I snapped. "Feed it to the fire. We’re going to forge the counter-strike using the very material they’re using to delete us." ​The University became a giant, self-consuming engine. We breathed in the poison, filtered it through the charred lungs of the Grove, and hammered it into the weapons of our survival. The Surgeons wanted to erase the error, but we were becoming a permanent

Who was this kid that Gunter sent as backup? According to Zen, he did not make enough pellets due to the lack of time. However, each pellet could cause extreme pain for a short time, hindering movement if it made contact with the target’s bare skin. When asked what the gel-like pellet contained, Zen was hesitant to reveal his secret. However, Venedict, who did all the raw material farming, answered on his behalf. “It’s encapsulated poison from yellow slimes. He has a few bottles of poison cure but not enough to distribute to everyone. Be sure only to give this to marksmen. We don’t need more casualties.”

She seemed about to say something, but the three beastmen walked over. They looked at me, their eyes showing both wariness and defeat. Lydia seemed to think of something. A strange smile crossed her eyes as she turned and whispered in the three beastmen's ears. However, Soren heard everything. "How despicable! They're planning to coat their claws with poison from the arrow poison tree." A trace of coldness flashed through my eyes. Fortunately, this was a primeval forest. There were plenty of medicinal herbs here. All things had natural counterparts, so near every poison grew its antidote.

He chuckled, the sound muffled, yet it carried weight. He reverently plucked a handful, setting them over the forest floor. Edrand grabbed two rocks and cracked them enough to make fire, which he set over the leaves. As the tiniest of flames touched one of the leaves, it flared, passing onto the others until it became a roaring flame. Edrand silently counted down from ten, and by the time he reached one, the ravens were already squeaking and cawing in pain, plummeting from the sky as the thick smoke imbued with poison from the Henchleaves filled their lungs.

"The ghost chef always uses ginger when she prepares a meal. It is her signature. She thinks it cleanses the palate. She uses it in almost every dish she serves to Alaric." I looked at the fire. My plan was perfect. It was a work of art. "There is something we can add to the young prince’s medications." I said. Magnus was the one supplying the boy’s medicine. He controlled the apothecary. "It is something that is poison but not poison. It is simply rat poop. On its own, it does nothing. But when mixed with ginger, it causes the throat to close. It causes the heart to erratic. It looks like a sudden, violent illness."

“It grows only in the deepest caves near the old dragon territories and it is extremely rare. When crushed and mixed with certain alchemical reagents, it creates a poison that enhances strength and aggression while slowly destroying the body from the inside. That is why the fighters moved so fast and fought without fear. They were burning out their own lives to serve their master.” Lucien leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, his expression sharp with interest. “And the antidote?” he asked, his voice carrying that dangerous curiosity he always had when poison was involved. “Can we make it or are we looking at months of searching for ingredients?” Elara shook her head slowly. “The an

Neela took a sniff and said, “My lord, this is the Netherworld Blood Poison of the Shura tribe.” “Netherworld Blood Poison? What is that thing?” “It is the evil means used by the Shura to assimilate the foreign races. Those who are poisoned by the Netherworld Blood Poison will be manipulated by the poisoner. They’ll slowly lose their instincts and finally change into the lowest class of the Shura tribe, the Bone Eaters!” At this time, Alex reached out his hand to touch the blood mist. Neela exclaimed, “Don’t touch it! It’s dangerous!”