Poison Grease Elden Ring Novels & Stories

I try to sit up again, my skin pulling tight. “I said let my blood work it’s use!” The old man all but screams. “Those blades were poisoned with death rag that grows in the underworld. More potent than wolfsbane or nightshade, it makes Pyilquois or cartbanamol together look like child’s play.” “So, I’m not a wimp?” I laugh at my joke, though there is nothing funny about how I feel. “If you hadn’t been a Grimalkin, you would be dead. Any normal shifter wouldn’t have lasted ten seconds with just a scratch from that poison.” He sounds angry, more perturbed than anything else.

As the group reconvened in the safety of the room, all eyes turned expectantly towards Rudra, the bearer of vital information that could shed light on the deadly poison that had claimed the innocent cat's life. Rudra, his expression grave yet determined, took a moment to gather his thoughts before speaking. "The poison that was used," Rudra began, his voice carrying a weight of knowledge and experience, "is derived from rare tree barks and bodies. It's a concoction so potent that it can extinguish life within seconds of consumption."

Her silver eyes flickered—fear, rage, desperation. I drove forward, the dagger gleaming in my hand. The silver light engulfed the black energy, consuming it, burning it away like sunlight dissolving fog. Elena screamed. Her barrier collapsed. She stumbled backward, falling against the broken remains of her throne. The poison was raging through her body now—black veins crawling across her face, her arms, her throat. She gasped, her hands clawing at her chest. “The crown,” she wheezed. “The crown is killing me… the poison—I—I didn’t know… I didn’t know…”

His gaze was fixed on her unguarded back. She had her back to him! The realization struck Jaleel like a bolt of lightning, clearing the chaos in his mind. A cruel, twisted smile spread across his face. Did Aria truly believe she could look down on him after her victory? Did she really think breaking his sword had ended him? She was gravely mistaken. His fingers curled slightly within his sleeve. His final trump card was hidden there—the Hushneedle, the Ligotti family's secret weapon. The Hushneedle was cultivated from Shadowsteel, and it was as thin as a strand of hair. It struck without a sound, and its tip was coated with Soulbane Toxin—the deadliest poison in the world.

Just as frustration began to take hold, my fingers brushed against a heavily warded, nameless leather book near the back of the shelf. I flipped it open, my eyes locking onto a short, obscured paragraph near the edge of the parchment. It was a brief, ancient mention of dark enchantments—toxins brewed with corrupted moon magic that deliberately mimicked the symptoms of grief and spiritual exhaustion. The text stated that these specific poisons were utterly undetectable by ordinary healing runes because they didn't attack the flesh, they fed on the victim's soul and the mate bond until the connection was permanently severed. Before I could read the antidote or decode the ingredients, the sharp

“Yes, and the oozing fluids are part of cleaning out his immune system. I think Drago is going to be fine. I have a suspicion that the poison is limiting and part of the curse that covers the whole wasteland; maybe the water you drank is too, however, I suggest you vomit, Aris said, and I got up to do so. I couldn't throw up anything, and I cursed between my teeth. “I can't throw up,” I said harshly. “Whoever cursed this place didn't want anyone to be able to take advantage of the site's living magic and limited all types of arcane or elemental magics to prevent the site from being corrupted. Possibly that very thing limits you from being able to vomit properly.” “I'm sorry to say, but the g

And just like what I have thought, it was fabricated. Turns out, the guilds in collaboration with over 30 large merchant groups has actually started the famine disaster by themselves, and they are actually using the same method that they have once used before. They use the most basic tactics, which is poisoning all the grains that they sold to the Wasteland inhabitants. Quite a simple tactics, they did not just outright used a deadly amounts, instead they slowly worked it in, mixing their sold grains with a special herbs that can only be obtained in a rather unique place, which the agent’s still haven’t been able to find out as of yet. But the poison that they used to drugged the grains is r

The harder I struggled to speak, the more it felt like something was hitting my throat all the way to my lungs. Fuck, poison is still in this room. They spread toxins through the air. But what is that? I looked around the room, looking for anything that could be the source of the poison's spread. In one corner, I saw an incense pottery that freshened the room. Bastard! Who put that poisonous sorrow there on purpose? Eren looked even more worried. He was closest to the incense position. His face was very pale, and fluid was coming out of his nose and mouth.

The steel tips didn't pierce the shield; they violently dissolved into tiny puffs of grey dust that the biting mountain wind instantly scattered into the abyss. Elena, Gideon shouted, his silver eyes flashing with a severe, ancient urgency as he kept the barrier raised against the Council's line. The lower trenches are mapped into the old iron mine shafts. The stone down there is raw, unrefined moonstone. If you stay here, the ambient minerals will choke your wolf until you can't even stand. You have to move now, before Trevor seals the drainage vents!

The only victor in this race was the one that acquired the Eldorian Scroll fragment. And Gilbert wouldn't let anything hold him back! Suddenly, dark green-colored smoke rose up from within the coffin. Dozens of Shadow Gate's members were covered by the strange smoke in an instant. "Argh! My eyes!" "My face hurts!" "Save me! Save me, please!" … They began to cry out for help as they screamed in pain. The dark green-colored smoke contained lethal poison that would melt the skin off of anyone who came into contact with it. The affected Shadow Gate men clawed all over their bodies as if trying to scratch off an itch.