Chapter 642 The Rubbish Masterpiece!

"... Hmmm…"

Kylon sighed, turning in her sleep. She groaned and yawned as she instinctively stretched her body. Blinking, Kylon realized she was in her human form, a rare occurrence while she slept.

"You're awake…"

That voice startled Kylon, causing her to immediately sit up. Only then did she realize where she was. "Halmut… what's going on?"

"You're welcome," stated the Sun Dragon in human form. He was pacing back in force, walking through the ash-covered room.

"What… What do you mean? And what's happened in here?"

"Perchet attacked you, remember? Tell me more about it," ordered Halmut, finally sparing her a glance.

"I…" Kylon wanted to answer the question, but she genuinely didn't know what to say. "Halmut… I don't remember anything…"

Showing a bit more concern, Halmut turned to fully face her. "Kylon, you teleported back here bleeding from your nose and ear, proving that Perchet was the one that attacked you. But what happened to cause this? Tell me."

"I… I… Umm… I really can't remember…" Kylon blinked, forcing her brain into overtime. "I don't remember fighting Perchet… Was that really what happened?"

Getting nowhere fast, Halmut looked away and glared at the wall. "Remain here and get some rest. In two days, you'll leave for Glacier Reef with seven other Flood Dragons. I'll summon the two Flood Dragons here for you to make demigods in the meantime."

"But… What about--"

"Just rest for now… Don't worry. The child is alive and well."

Kylon began to feel less pressured but felt her heart suddenly skip a beat. She had caught Halmut licking his lips at the mention of their child. And for some reason, what seemed like a forgotten memory flashed through her mind. It was but a single statement yet it caused her whole body to shiver.

"Would you rather your child be raised by Skaryn or eaten by Halmut?"

The thought alone was terrifying. Kylon kept that thought to herself and tried to bury it in the back of her mind. She laid down and rolled over, letting her still-tired body go back to rest.

Halmut, on the other hand, eventually turned back with a frown. The Sun Dragon growled, keeping his anger from roaring and waking Kylon, "What have they done to you… Perchet, how dare you…"

He feared this would happen. Halmut had chosen Perchet due to Perchet's ability to gain and protect knowledge. The Nocturnal Dragon was proficient at acquiring information from around the world but few understood how intricately Perchet was able to control sound. Halmut was one of the few that did. When he healed Kylon, Halmut had found the area that Perchet had targeted specifically. Her mind. That was the deadliness of soundwaves, and how Perchet had most likely overridden Kylon's short-term memory.

"I'll get him… I'll get them all… After leaving this forsaken world, I'll soon trample over everything they believe in and hold dear…" Halmut stole another glance at Kylon, slowly licking his lips. "Soon… Soon, we'll be taking you and everyone from here… In Jewel, you'll become more useful…"

*****

The next two days passed with little time to spare. All demigods had now entered Earthen Keep, including Dragas who was finally made a demigod by Moranti. Some had already ascended even, mainly Hadurt and Jin who were racing to godhood only to lose to Perchet.

Back in the Leisure Guild, the morning sun was cresting over the distant mountains. But that morning light was unable to reach Jack, how was hobbled over a worktable.

"Finally! It's perfect!"

"YOU CALL THAT RUBBISH PERFECTION?!?!"

"Come on… be honest. It looks great, doesn't it?" Jack began to adorn his new equipment that loosely fit under the description of armor.

"That's absolute garbage! How dare you waste such beautiful materials!" argued Gasnon, practically in tears. "Look! The world-renowned sheen of the refined roxite has been tarnished by your terrible handiwork! How could you do such a thing?!"

Jack ignored Gasnon's comments. He was too busy admiring his shoddy workmanship. There were seven pieces to the armor in total: one helmet, one chestplate, one backplate, two bracers over the forearms and elbows, and two grieves over the shins and knees. Together, they looked like dark, scrap metal armor made by goblins, only human-sized. And Jack sauntered around the forge with pride.

"At least you made this properly…"

Gasnon stroked the rapier, trying to make himself feel better. After finishing the hammering and shaping of everything on the first day, Jack fitted the roxite rode into the rapier after melting a thin hole through the center with concentrated fire. Then, before placing the rapier's roxite core where it belonged, Jack etched an enchantment into the metal to allow for dark magic affinity and flooded it with his energy beyond a capacity that Gasnon had thought possible. It was the one thing that Gasnon and Moranti were proud of.

As for the scrap armor that Jack was parading through the room, it also contained powerful enchantments. Apart from hardening and tempering, the enchanting and empowering stages were the only things that Jack had done well. Everything else, the shaping, jointing, personalizing, was of the worst quality that Gasnon had ever seen.

No matter how Gasnon looked at it, he wanted to reject the notion that those two items were made by the same person. For a man to lift a legendary sword into the realm of gods was the dream of the greatest weaponsmiths, yet the same man created the worst atrocity a smith could possibly conceive, let alone be proud of.

Jack didn't care, though. As he paraded his new armor through the room, he was fixated on his newest achievements.

[Create a pseudo-one-star weapon: claimed]

[Create a weapon that can rival a one-star cosmician's strength but can be wielded by a mortal being. One-star reward: 7,500 skill points]

[Insufficient yet passable: claimed]

[Create a full set of armor with no practical benefits, magical benefits, or any sort of boosts whatsoever, yet it still contains enough energy to qualify as one-star level equipment. One-star reward: 10,000 skill points]

[Laughingstock of the battalion: claimed]

[Have the worst looking armor among all your peers while proudly flaunting it like a peacock, despite the armor's complete and utter lack of attention to detail. Unique reward: 200 skill points]

It was strange, yet Jack was enjoying the smallest of his rewards the most. He was curious when he'd get a chance to prove the potency of his new masterpiece.