Devil and Candlemaker
"Everyone knows about heroes, adventurers, nobles; people that matter. No one remembers the name of those shunned, or their descendants. Especially when their crimes were severe enough to sell them to Melromarc's enemies. Don't worry, though. Master has only one directive for me: serve the Shield Hero, kill any that wish him harm." F/F romance, slavery, dark themes.
All warnings placed in chapter 1 are in place for the duration of the story. I won't bog this down by placing anything more than chapter-specific warnings here.
Second Arc—Everything is a game, you need only decipher the rules
Chapter Twenty-Eight—On Broken Wings
8-8
"Please, Mistress!" Chandelier throws herself onto her knees, her arms wrapped around my knee and hands clutching trouser leg. "Take me with you!"
I glare down at the pleading and teary green eyes staring up.
"I'll train hard. I'll even stay in Human form the entire time." Demi-Human would be more accurate, I should think, given she has white feathery wings growing out of her shoulder blades. "Please, Mistress!"
Sigh. This is what I get for not conjuring up enough time to inquire about magical clothing; a naked seemingly ten year old girl with angel wings clutches my leg. I walk, dragging the increasingly vocal girl along as I make my way into the library. All studies come to an abrupt halt as Chandelier's desperation comes to a crescendo, her pleas being shouted at the top of her lungs.
"Chandelier." Shadowy tendrils wrap around Chandelier, pluck her up from her perch, and plop her onto the table. "Look around. Look at everyone here, studying to grow stronger. And give me one logical reason why I should allow you while denying them."
"Because I can carry you!"
"I need not be carried. Try again."
Chandelier looks around, pouting and crossing her arms. But, as she looks around, she notices something—hopefully at least. Everyone looks every bit as desperate to come with me. The other filolials, my party, my children—the new acquisitions don't, of course, but I neither need nor want them to.
"Because I can keep up with you." Chandelier gives me a victorious smirk, like she solved every puzzle.
"You believe that?" I turn heel, and walk right out of the library, unsurprised that Chandelier lets herself be dragged along, out into the sitting room, and down the stairwell into the cellar. The other filolials, of course, all follow—naked as they please, sigh. My party and my children, including Luna, also join us, curious where this is going.
Once in the cellar, I lash a kick, sending Chandelier tumbling across the room as I cross my arms under my bust and shift my weight to one leg.
"Prove it. Unarmed combat only, but no holds barred. Anyone here that lands a solid bit on me may come. Refusal and inability both offer the same outcome."
Chandelier doesn't even hesitate, disappearing into a puff of smoke and charging at me in her filolial form. She comes at me with a peck, my hand reaches out, slides passed her attack, and glides down her long neck, guiding her attack away from me. For good measure, I trip her and let her tumble into the stone wall again.
Crayn, unsurprisingly, comes next. He puts everything into speed, thrashing through each attack like a raging beast. Punches, kicks, headbutts. He even tries biting me at one point. With one open palm, I gently nudge each attack off course. He threatens to over-extend on a kick, so my foot lashes out, slipping behind his supporting foot and nudging it forward to keep him from falling. My open palm shoves his chest, flopping him onto his butt and tumbling away.
My baby can only stare, wide-eyed, at how easily I best him. But he's not going to give up that easily. He rolls back, getting to his feet once again, and rushes me. I shift my weight to my left leg, slant my hips, and lash a kick for his head, stopping just before contact. His eyes widen to the point they risk falling out.
"I…" Crayn looks away, eyes narrowing, face scrunched up as if struggling not to cry. "Sorry."
"None of you want me to go. I understand that." My leg retreats and I shift to a casual stance once again. "But you each need time to grow strong. Time I can grant you. Now stop—"
I jump, somersault over Chandelier's lunge, and pluck her out of thin air before she collides with Crayn—landing soundlessly even with my riding boots.
"As I was saying. Stop acting and think. What is the most logical reason for me to leave the safety of Ulaan?"
"To train!" Chandelier belts out, wriggling under my arm and trying to get in a solid hit. I drop her and ram a knee into her side, sending her careening into the far wall.
"To offer myself as bait," I correct. Chandelier slumps to the floor, her pink-feathered wings holding her side to protect the ribs I just broke. "If I cannot swear blindly that you would survive, you're not coming."
Hope walks over to Chandelier, her hands glowing white as she lays them on the wound. The snapping of bone scrunches my filolial's face up more than the original injury.
"Now stop reacting and think. I know how to disappear. How to lose trackers. Who among you can say the same?"
"How can I if you won't teach me!" Chandelier is taking this harder than I expected.
"Won't teach you?" I cock an eyebrow. "Grin and Tayrend could train you. But you don't care. You want me to, while I need that time to train."
"They're not my Mistress." Chandelier huffs and poofs back into her naked Human form, arms crossed and looking as petulant as Luna when she doesn't want to take a nap.
"I should love you more than my children?" My question trips Chandelier up. She steals a glimpse of Crayn as he picks himself up off the floor, of Stellar as she holds Luna. All three of my babies are in tears, wanting nothing more than to stay close to me, to have my arms around them to make them feel safe.
"I could pose as Stellar," Chandelier tries again, refusing to give up. "If you mean to be bait, then pretending to be out there teaching your child is the perfect cover. And I'm stronger than her, so I have a higher chance of survival."
Sigh. That's a good idea, unfortunately. Hmm, how to make her back down? "Very well. But if you pose as my child, you are forbidden to take your filolial form. Ever."
The rest of the flock freeze, jaws open to offer themselves in the same capacity. Predictable. Chandelier finds a crack, they all need to peck at it. If they get a yes, then my party want a yes. If they get a yes, my children can argue coming with me is safe. If they can come, then my party argues we need a proper guard. That just snowballs into taking every soul with us, thereby ensuring a death toll.
However, there's no way any of them will agree to these terms, stemming the flood before it starts.
"Fine." Chandelier walks over to me, sending Hope into a scramble to heal the wound quicker. "But then I—"
"No. You don't get to bargain. If you come, it's by my terms and mine alone. That means I lock you in your Human form, you dress as I say, you pee and poo when I say, you eat what I say and when I say it."
Chandelier no longer looks certain. The rest of the flock physically back off, not liking the terms lain before them. "Fine." Chandelier takes the final steps to me and wraps her arms around my waist. Her whole body quakes as her sobs fill the room. "You win."
Sigh. "Look. I need you all here. Because there's a chance enemies will take my absence as an opportunity to strike. If you—"
"Lock me in this form. I'm coming with you." Oh?
Someone thinks I bluff. Very well. I take my fans into hand and change them into Beastmaster form. My hands cup Chandelier's cheeks and I activate the skill. Vision fills with Chandelier's information. Her race, her base stats and derivatives. Height, hair and eye colour, skin tone. Skills, spells, and mastery of each of them. Every little thing about her, down to her reproductive and even her menstrual cycle. It's all there for me to tinker with.
Filtering through all of it, I find her Transform skill, and lock it.
"There." I end the skill and stow my fans. "Try to transform."
Chandelier gives a half-hearted attempt, mostly to keep up appearances. Let's see how long that lasts.
I craft undergarments for her, ordering her to put them on. Tights and an underdress come next. Then her overdress, riding boots, and puffy skirt-coat. Chandelier dons them all without a word, tears welled up in her eyes that she refuses to let fall.
"Mis…mama?" Chandelier tries not to fidget as I work her buttons to make sure she looks presentable. "How can I fight if I can't use my other form?"
I craft twinned daggers, strapping them to her lower back. Twinned fans soon follow—it would have been easier to strap those on before I dressed her. Shame on you for not predicting she'd hold out this long. And last comes a bo staff, just taller than Chandelier is.
"Can I…not learn the staff? Please?"
"You're lucky I don't craft shields as well. Now let's go. Mama has an appointment that won't wait any longer."
8-8
I stand outside the chapel, unsure what to expect. Religion has never interested me, and the religious mostly irritate me. So why am I here?
Please, Duchess, come to see us before you leave Ulaan.
Such simple words, but the Prioress had to have known I was leaving the city to speak them—let alone that no one of this world was told of my station.
We walk up to the door. Just Lyraynna, Zaan, S'yne Lokk, and myself. Chandelier is with us, of course, but 'walk' is a bit of a stretch, unused to footwear as she is. Let alone the cuirass she wears and the staff she still isn't used to lugging around. Her own fault for making an offer she isn't ready to commit to, but she looks even more uncomfortable than even back at the manor, strutting around like something is stuck up her arse.
Sky is bright blue, despite the early hour, though it leaves the streets empty. Not even the market stand owners are out and about just now. Yet, the doors open as we approach, the Prioress comes out, her eyes drawn.
Without a word exchanged, the Prioress leads us into the chapel, into the room in the back where the girls were ushered into last time I was here. It's so early that even the nuns are nowhere to be found.
Entering the little room, the Prioress motions to the low table, bidding us sit. Tea is served in humble wooden teacups, no milk, no cookies, just the tea. Yeah, this is the same setup as the Bishop last time. Scarecely any decoration, bare stone walls. This god of light isn't one for fluff and filler.
"How does one as dark and twisted as yourself come into the service of one so pure?" This woman doesn't mince words. I grab Zaan's and Lyraynna's pommels, preventing them from unsheathing Just as they reach for them, and my shadow's tendrils bind Chandelier in place. "And mind your words, child. You'll have no means to summon reinforcements, should you aspire to conflict."
"Straight to," my shadowy tendrils grab Zaan's to prevent his attack, "the point. I like that." Does this woman know how many times over I just saved her life?
"Answer the question." Even in the winter of her life, she is fierce. But a terrible tactician if she cannot understand the bigger picture.
"Do you believe me your enemy?" I ask, honestly curious.
"Answer. The. Question."
My left eye twitches. I cast my senses about, but feel nothing akin to First Princess or that oppressive weight Melromarc exuded. No, all I sense is that usual tranquillity of a house of the god of light. Right pointer traces my eye-scar, drawing the elder's attention to it. "Do you know what this scar represents?"
The Prioress works her jaw, only unintelligible huffs come.
"I was told there were versions of my people in this world." I take my teacup, gently sniff the piping hot liquid, and set the cup on the table, undrunk. "Am I to assume you confuse us with them?"
Jaw almost hits the table. I'll take that as a yes—though the sedative isn't helping her make friends, no matter how subtle. Servant to the god of light, yet clearly willing to dirty her hands. Hmm. I take out my fan and pour the tea into her.
X-X
Forty-Two New Poison Recipes Unlocked!
X-X
New Skill Unlocked: Subtle Spike
X-X
Forty-two of them, and that doesn't include the poisons I'd already unlocked. Honestly, was there any tea in there?
I stand and curtsey. "For the sake of the god of light, I will overlook this transgression. Do not give me cause to regret it." And I walk away, dragging my people along, wrapped in my shadow's tendrils to keep them from mauling the woman.
Note to self: your other self is apt to be this world's Malty, only with your tactical mind and inability to miss the mark once a task is committed to. Plan C it is.
8-8
As my group approaches the gate to exit Ulaan, two familiar faces loom in the distance—King Choros and Prince Malar. Malar spots me first and alerts his father; the pair of them come my way. Sigh.
"Lady Candlemaker." The king greets me, bowing out of respect. I curtsey in kind. "Please. It isn't wise to leave Ulaan without someone to vouch for you."
I only cock an eyebrow.
"It is…difficult to explain. Please just—"
"The version of me," I hold my hand up, in the universal sign to stop, before my party gets any ideas, "that is of this world is a raving psychopath that people would kill me on sight." I've got to hand it to the goddess of destruction. She does nothing in half-measures.
"As you say." King Choros nods, conflicting emotions at war in his eyes. "You've encountered her…admirers?" Expect more of that; noted.
"We waste daylight, Great Khan." The crowd around us is bustling, easy to get lost in. Most come and go, paying us little mind. There is a curious bunch who tarry just now, carrying on with mundane tasks that should be done within seconds, their noses never pointing a direction that would remove me from their peripheral vision. The games begin.
"Forgive me, Lady Candlemaker, but I must insist you take Prince Malar with you." It's too noisy here for my upcoming entertainers to hear, though King Choros motions to his son just the same. A few look troubled, others incredulous—none take this well. I see.
"Your reasoning?" With little more than a glance, Malar's stats load in my vision. Level twenty, with impressive attack and defence, but paltry speed and evasion—parry is all but non-existent. What could this man offer me that I cannot arrange for myself?
"My hope," Malar steps forward and brandishes his battle scythe, stabbing the street with staff's base, "is that you'll train me, Lady Candlemaker." A most curious gem is affixed to the base of scythe's blade, bright green like my fans'. Another Hero?
"How many Heroes are there, exactly?"
Malar smirks, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Four Cardinal, Eight Vassal. As you've no doubt ascertained, I am the Scythe Hero. And my consort is," he beckons and a woman comes that could pass for his sister any other time—same black hair, same perma-tan complexion, same brown eyes, even their facial features are similar, "Yisu Qatun, the Accessory Hero."
This…Qatun, she wears nothing but accessories. Bracelets, rings, earrings, necklace, even a decorative combs in her hair. Her stats load, showing she's Malar's opposite. She's fast, her parry is on par with mine, and her magical power and defence is comparable to Malar's physical stats.
"Please consider training us." Malar bows low to me, horizontal kind of low, with Yisu Qatun following his lead.
Me: "Four Cardinal Heroes. Eight Vassal Heroes. Look into who your eight are, they might prove invaluable."
Naofumi: "Will do. Any news on the Waves?"
Me: "Timer hasn't started, but I may have an in to histories regarding them. Will keep you informed."
"Very well, Prince Malar Choros and Consort Yisu Qatun." I curtsey, tilting my head and holding it for a long moment to show him due respect. "Please allow me to introduce my party. My honour guards, Zaan and Lyraynna. My daughter, Chandelier."
A squawked cry. Someone swoops down and perches onto my shoulder. Sigh.
"And Tallow, who should have stayed home." Tallow pecks at my earlobe and claps a pouch against me, no doubt tied to his leg. Sigh, leave it to Bry to choose now. I take the pouch, unsurprised to find my earrings, tiara, and necklace hidden within.
King Choros and Malar share a look, confused. I offer them only a tight smile as Lyraynna busies herself seeing to outfitting me once again.
With each accessory, I expect a Caution to pop up. It never comes. I load my stats, finding the bonuses I expect—HP, MP, and SP each at least double to bring my totals up to four digits each. Only once satisfied my hair has been combed properly, which seems to include lightly oiling and massaging the defiant strands against the back of my neck, does Lyraynna move back to my flank.
"Then I believe a proper introduction is in order." I curtsey once again. "I am Duchess Sorrow C Lyght, Head of House Lyght, Lady of the Lyght Region of Melromarc, Governess of Lute Village, and Silver Adventurer of my world."
The king and prince share an amused look, neither seems surprised.
8-8
Rat's Map loads, showing the points of interest Ginad highlighted for me. Some caves to the west, a few villages scattered about the place. But it's the forest to the south-east marking the border between Ulaan and the Three Angs that interests me. The monster levels there are off the charts, so it's the obvious choice.
"Come." I beckon to Chandelier and scoop her up piggy back when she's close enough. It's a little odd to carry the one that usually carries me, but life is funny like that—and this should provide extra resistance to boost my base stats that much quicker. "Do keep up."
I dash ahead, in a dead sprint. Zaan and Lyraynna keep on my flanks without too much of an issue, even in their heavy armours—we'll need to do something about that, given how anti-stealth they are.
The countryside is quite peaceful. It's barely ten minutes before all signs of city life fade into the distance, leaving only the occasional farm and farmhands working the land. My limbs and core howl in protest before we make it to the hour mark, my breath ragged and haggard. Instead of slowing down, I speed up.
Skill mastery level-ups, stat boosts, and base stat boosts filter in, littering the serene rolling hills we descend. We pass grazing herds, though none of ours with them safely nestled behind impregnable walls. We pass a village amidst a bandit raid—funny how quick the tides turn once Lyraynna and Zaan start chucking bombs, so we don't even break stride. It is quite satisfying that I gone-shot the bandit Chief, though—hearing his neck snap from my booted flying roundhouse kick brings a special smile to my lips.
Bry: "Three parties Quick Travel to your location. We will deal with the stragglers."
Bry, Grin, and Archer, each atop their filolial, blink into being just behind me with their eight-man parties, each armed to the teeth. Then comes Deela and Hope on a filolial-pulled wagon, with their healers ready to lend aid and Shield Mages stationed on every corner. They turn heel and head right back into the village we just exited.
8-8
Woodlands loom in the distance. Malar and Qatun trail a kilometre behind us, again; they'll catch up once we stop, again. Sigh. I did tell them to keep up—I've been telling them that every morning. It never seems to sink in. Maybe it's the lack of ambushes I was prepared for? Or were those bandit raids meant to be the ambushes? The first one would be an anomily on its own; the eighth was a fucking glow-in-the-dark billboard announcing the orchestrator has ties to bandits.
Tallow circles overhead, keeping an eye out for monsters that show interest in us. Thus far, none seem intent on picking a fight, but once we enter the forest, all bets are off.
My stats load. Level eighteen—painfully low for this area, but this is what my people need just now. Subtlety flew the coop the second my name hit the world stage.
I leave three kilometres between us and forested levelling paradise, stopping us by a lone tree large enough to engulf a small village, or even be a village, truth be told. I scan it, just to be sure, and find it has no level thick branches all revealing nothing from my scan. Chandelier lowers onto her feet, so I nudge her, S'yne Lokk, and Lyraynna over to the far side of the tree, where we see to our needs.
Rat's Map shows there isn't a settlement for kilometres in any direction, nor is there a road or well-worn path. This is the perfect spot. The cradle for my future kingdom, in a location King Choros won't complain about and no one with more an ounce of intelligence will attempt to invade.
Once I'm decent, and far more agreeable with my bladder and bowels emptied, I look around to see what I'm working with. We're on the southern border of the kingdom of Ulaan, not far from a river running white from rapids. Three Angs should be on the far side of the forest, so they'll play nice. The land is bumpy from the rolling grassy hills. Looks fertile enough. I'm curious what kind of monsters are native to this patch of land, but they'll present themselves before too long.
Tallow spots some roaming wild bison-like creatures with six legs. Appear to be level sixty-fives. I'll make them my little bitches before too long. More curious are the circling buzzard things, swooping down on the bison-likes. Level eighty, the lot of them. Hmm, yes, this is the better place to settle down.
I scale the tree, searching for just the right spot. The branches up here are winding, maze-like, like a chestnut and a weeping willow had a baby, almost. In the centre, where the trunk crests, there's an opening covered by smaller branches and foliage, where the buzzards won't be able to see and the bison can't reach.
"You realise how dangerous this place is?" Malar final reaches to tree and immediately help his consort up to one of the lower branches. Instead of answering, I start crafting metre after metre of silken rope. "I'm serious. These lands are so dangerous that even the army has standing orders to steer clear."
"Good." I toss Lyraynna the first coil and get busy crafting a second. We're a week south of Ulaan city, more or less. Well, we've been travelling for a week—I've no idea how far or how long it would be for anyone else.
Zaan gets the second coil of silken rope, and he joins Lyraynna in her knot-tying to set up our base.
As for me? I gather a few twigs, berries, and leaves, feeding them to my fan, unlocking new fans, each offering a hefty boost to physical and magical defence. I equip one of them and get back to crafting rope. We'll need a lot of materials for what I have in mind—and we do have the space.
8-8
A silken net drapes just under canopy's ceiling; a second layer of defence, should the avians grow curious of our hideaway. Stones stack together, forming the first of our buildings. Glass windows with stone shutters, stone doors; the place is incredibly barebones, but enough to support the netting overhead and keep out the weather.
X-X NEW STRONGHOLD ACQUIRED! X-X
Define Type of Stronghold
X-X
I select Military Settlement, name it Lute, and confirm.
X-X
Skill Mastery Level Up: Strongholds—Level 5
New Stronghold Types Unlocked
Job Mastery Level Up: General—Level 18
New Menu Unlocked: Manage Army
New Menu Unlocked: Manage Settlement
Select Lute Thorp's Allegiance
X-X
Hmm. I should pledge allegiance to Ulaan. Kingdom of Lyght blinks and is quickly confirmed, with Ulaan set as ally.
X-X NOBLE STATUS UPDATE! X-X
You are Kingdom of Lyght's Monarch
Demark Borders and manage Kingdom in Royal House of Lyght Menu
X-X
I select this tree as Lute, and demark everything from the raging river to the south, to the woodlands in the east, to a hefty chunk of open highlands to the north—not so much as to irritate King Choros, but enough to say we're worth noting on the world map. Smallest kingdom in the realms, to be sure. We'll grow.
"You're insane." Malar gives me a defeated look. "But there's no denying few will wage war with you here." That's the plan.
"Zaan, Lyraynna, Chandelier. I'm heading out. Alone." The three turn to me, eyes wide with fear. "I won't hear of you tagging along until you can move around in this tree without making a sound."
8-8
Wolves the size of bison chase elephants the size of small houses and seemingly made of stone with diamond-looking tusks. Snakes so thick they can swallow me whole lay draped over low-hanging branches—the least threatening monsters in this strange forest. Bees that make me feel small flutter about, feeding off of flowers so big they'd make for excellent homes for my people. Wasps as big as my balled fist form angry buzzing clouds, swarming the trees they call home and seem to act as one entity. There isn't a single monster in here that is below level one-hundred.
Yet I, the level eighteen adventurer, traipse along, sticking to the treetops like it's the most natural thing, casting the cleaning spell every few minutes to remove any trace of my existence. Shadowy tendrils pluck fruits and twigs and leaves as I please, feeding them into fans' gems before I have to figure out if they'll disagree with me.
On the forest floor, the elephants form a defensive wall of tusks and skewer any wolves foolish enough to lunge for them. One of the wolves gets gored and stuck on the tusks—from the pained yelping, it lives.
My shadowy tendrils strike, racing down the tree to the wolf, pierce its eyes and burrow into the brain to kill it. I get a solid six-thousand XP for myself and everyone of House Lyght, and I drag the corpse into the shadows, stealthily bringing it back to me and feeding it to fan's gem, unlocking six new fans.
The distraction is enough for some of the wolves to gang up on one of the elephants, but its herd are quick to move in and skewer the wolves for their efforts. My shadows repeat the process, killing the wolves and bringing me the corpses, netting me another thirty-six thousand XP.
The wolves decide this isn't worth the investment and retreat, giving the elephants their pyrrhic victory—eight of the twelve elephants are clearly bleeding out, they'll be dead no later than sundown. Better for me.
I meld into the shadows, careen down into the glade and onto one of the wounded elephants' back. It's trunk reaches for me, to pound me into paste, but I avoid it, carefully healing the wounds with my worthless healing spell. It's enough to stop the bleeding, but it leaves some nasty scars on its hind legs and shoulders.
One by one, I amble from elephant to elephant, healing them. Until I get to the last one, the one with less than fifty HP—this one I kill and absorb into my fan's gem, before retreating back to the treetops where I'm safe.
Curious, I check my stats, finding I hit level thirty-one. I should be level forty before day's end this way, along with all in my House, except Luna. I don't even want to consider having a level forty toddler when she throws a tantrum.
8-8
My people Quick Travels to Lute. Bry and her mages are quick to spread out, already enchanting the silk nets and the sole barebones building in the centre. Crayn's boys start drawing and outline of how they want the place to look, and Crayn himself is more than happy to craft the stones for the additional buildings we'll need.
I, however, squat down and touch the tree with my bare hand. Its stats pour into my vision, the numbers pliable under my skill's influence. The only thing I care to notice just now, is how Intelligence is one, Physical Strength is eight-thousand, and HP is in the millions—I don't know enough about this skill to tinker too much, but the tree seems strong enough to support our tiny thorp.
"Lady Candlemaker?" Malar comes to me, tense and more than a little cautious. He keeps his hands plainly visible, as if to placate a dangerous beast he isn't sure he should be approaching. Curiously, S'yne Lokk goes pale, as if she's seen a ghost, or become one; her eyes remain wide, likely staring at her stats. "How did you…?"
"They just dropped dead. Heart attacks maybe." I beckon to Crayn and Stellar, they come running when they notice I pluck monster materials for their holy weapons. "I don't want anyone wandering outside of Lute. This place is dangerous."
"Unn!" Stellar beams feeding another bee stinger into her staff's void.
"And I don't want either of you rushing for your Class Ups. Review the notes I gave you, decide which you desire, and make sure you meet the requirements."
"You got it, mama!" Crayn's all smiles, fishing out cracked elephant tusks and feeding them, pebble by pebble, to his skillet knife.
I filter through my Bestiary, checking the drops. Hmm, more than enough for some major upgrades for our archers.
"Archer." I barely blink before the man is before me, grinning wider than even Grin and Ginad just now, who are right on his flank. I roll my eyes, but craft a few dozen high-end bows with arrows and quivers. "Only those whose loyalty is proven will be allowed better gear. And have Bry see to yours."
"Uh, about…uh, better gear?" Ginad rubs his elbow, acting more like a child that just got told off than the warrior I've come to know. "Any chance for…uh, upgraded armour?"
I filter though the Bestiary again. Hmm. "Light, Medium, or Heavy?"
"I'm…uh, better with Medium?"
"Irrelevant." I shake my head, no. "What Armour Class works better with the Class Up you have in mind?"
"Heavy."
I nod and craft a new set from all the monster parts—cuirass, gauntlets, the whole lot. Ginad's in tears as he takes the wolf-themed furred armour sets with diamond-tusk detailing. I also craft him a better twinned dagger set with matching sheaths. And a silken undergarment that I enchant with Acquire Outfit and Change Outfit, to give him the option if he needs it.
Of course that opens the flood gates, and everyone comes for better gear.
8-8
End Chapter Twenty-Eight
8-8
A/N: I'm still not entirely happy with how this turned out, but I trust this does the job. One more chapter, and it's apt to be a long one. Enjoy XD