Sealed in Steel
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63. The Start of a Legend
🕑 Added 2025-04-18 15:14:52 +0000 UTCIhadir introduced Elian to the weapons master of the temple, a stout but muscular man with a woven white beard that spoke of his age. “Something sturdy enough to withstand Tribulations, eh?” The weapons masters inserted the key into a room and gestured for them to follow inside. “A weapon with high Attack Power, given that our dear friend here converts into the Armor attribute. I have what you’re looking for.”
“Ah, a mace, how fitting,” said Ihadir, nodding down at the weapon racks. “Sturdy indeed.”
The weapons master nodded. “With a thick handle and a solid mass of metal at the end, it will not shatter like a blade when the Tribulation strikes. Let us choose one that isn’t too large or has a lengthy handle; otherwise, the risk of it breaking increases.” The weapons master grinned at Elian. “Although large and lengthy will get the ladies, eh?”
Elian chuckled. Earth or Fellenyr, dick jokes were present across dimensions. “Too bad I’m more focused on meeting Tribulations.”
“Spoken like a true Penitent.”
The weapons master stopped in front of a mace made of a shiny white material. The head of the mace was spherical—several other maces had rectangular heads—with many nubs in place of the usual spikes. A good design against Tribulation. Spikes were useless and would probably just break off. The handle was thicker than most. Besides providing the weapons master another material for a dick joke, the handle also secured the head better.
“Hewn from a single piece of Warkodon Ivory,” said the weapons master, picking up the mace, “this is much stronger than steel and can absorb impact that would otherwise bend or warp steel.”
“Warkodon Ivory?” Elian asked. “From the tusk of a Warkodon?” Elian had only heard of the hill-sized mammoths that could hibernate for centuries. No one had seen any in the past sixty years, leading many to believe they had been hunted to extinction for their valuable tusks.
“It has been recorded that Warkodons rammed each other with their long tusks,” the weapons master explained. “The impact could shake the earth and be heard miles away. Their tusks have to be tremendously tough, eh? Magic is required to carve them since they’re not so hardy to it. Against physical damage, on the other hand, they are quite resistant.”
“This can withstand Tribulations?”
“Up to a point, of course. The mace isn’t infinitely durable. I advise you to coat it with fulgurate oil. I have a few bottles here to give you.”
Awesome, Elian celebrated in his head. Fulgurate oil that increased an equipment’s durability was very expensive. The tiniest bottle of fulgurate oil he bought before got lost during his first trip to the Dark Forest.
“Protective enchantments are also wise,” added the weapons master. “This Warkodon mace can accommodate three enchantments, given its resident battle spirit. It has one at present. For the remaining two, you can opt for enchantments that increase Attack Power, yeah, but it’s better to add those that protect your weapon. Warkodon ivory can go a long way.”
The weapons master handed Elian the weapon. Swinging it, Elian was surprised it weighed more than he expected, given that bone should be lighter than steel. Technically, a tusk was a tooth rather than a bone. But this was incredibly heavy nonetheless.
“What enchantment does it have now?” Elian had noticed the mace had the sheen of hidden power.
“See it for yourself.”
Bottled-up Aggression of Counter
Upon blocking incoming strikes with your weapon, store their force to your bolster your weapon’s Attack Power up to twice its value, expending it in your next attack.
Ihadir spoke with his scholarly voice, “This Warkodon mace has three thousand Attack Power, does it not, weapons master?” The weapons master nodded. Ihadir continued, “With its rare and effective enchantment, it can reach twice that amount, up to six thousand Attack Power. The requirement to block strikes can be fulfilled by meeting a Tribulation, brother Elian. Perhaps three or four strikes at your current Tribulation could charge this to full.”
“Don’t forget not to strike with it,” said the weapons master, “or you’ll lose the stored force and have to charge it again. Funny how one shouldn’t strike with a weapon, eh?”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Elian said. “I’m bountifully grateful for this gift. This is just what I needed. I’ll take good care of this.”
Six thousand Attack Power multiplied by the Abyssal Eye’s Curse and the Elder Giant’s Curse would be nearly four hundred thousand Armor. He wouldn’t worry about the Tribulation for a long time. He should save up for another weapon like this Warkodon mace. A full suit of armor would come after he had two weapons.
“Be sure you do that,” said the weapon master, pointing a finger at him. “I’ll know if you neglect my child. I’ve taken care of them for years; don’t let that mace suffer after leaving our family.”
After leaving the weapons master, Ihadir stooped to point at Elian’s bracelet. “You haven’t perused its enchantments, have you? One of them repairs equipment.”
Elian fiddled with the bracelet and called up its enchantments. He didn’t check it while in front of the priests to not appear greedy, similar to not counting coins if one was gifted them. But since Ihadir told him to do so, it would no longer be bad manners if he did. The first enchantment was:
Forgesmith of the Invisible Hand
Making a connection with enchanted equipment, the Invisible Hand repairs them so long as the wearer has Energy.
“I haven’t seen an enchantment like this before,” Elian said. “This will certainly make the weapons master happy.” He didn’t have any use for his Energy. Might as well pay it for passive equipment repair. It’d save him a lot of costs in the long run. Even in the short run. And where the hell would he find someone to repair a weapon made of ivory?
“As you can imagine, enchantments of the Invisible Hand are popular amongst Penitents,” said Ihadir. “Do note, however, that repairing significant damage on the Warkodon mace would take a long time. Nothing will dethrone prevention. The stone band’s other two enchantments are likewise useful to you.”
Konshari’s Protection for the Brave
Stand your ground and not one step back. Your bravery earns you the blessing of fifteen percent more Armor so long as you stay in place.
Elian had encountered a Konshari enchantment while browsing around Vigor Hill’s marketplace. But this was stronger compared to the previous one he saw, giving a fifteen percent boost instead of ten. That meant a stronger enchanter made this. The way it worked, enchanters could make enchantments only of the Boons they had, copying and imparting a fraction of the power onto intangible objects. The more experienced the enchanter, the closer the effects of their enchantments would be to the source Boon.
Life Conversion of Melloween’s Guard
Choose Health or Energy, converting a quarter of it into the other. You cannot expend any further amount of your choice until the converted amount is lost or you dispel the conversion.
“How does Melloween’s enchantment work?” Elian asked, looking up at Ihadir. “Let’s say, I’ll choose Energy. A fourth of it will be added to my Health, but I can no longer cast any Energy-based spells?”
“You understood correctly, brother Elian. Another in-demand enchantment for Penitents, as we usually specialize in either Health or Energy, rarely both. The restriction isn’t of consequence as you’re supposed to be done with all your preparations for the Tribulation before converting.”
Elian bowed. “These enchantments will serve me well to further my journey on the Penitent Path.”
“That is not all. The band itself grants you around a thousand Magical Resilience.”
“I’ll be running out of words of thanks for the help you’ve given me,” Elian said, bowing again.
“It is made from a stone the catfolk were fond of.”
As Ihadir explained about catfolk history, Elian remembered the ring he found among the catfolk ruins in the Dark Forest. He had left the catfolk ring, along with Viney’s ring, back at camp because he wasn’t sure if it would trip off some magical sensors while he snuck into the guard’s fort.
What should he do with it? He doubted the priests would let him keep it, but they’d probably give him more rewards. On the other hand, if he used it… Well, he couldn’t use it. Who would know about where to go to unseal it? He couldn’t ask Borlen because—
“Borlen!” Elian suddenly blurted.
“—the catfolk are experts in their crafts and—what’s wrong, brother Elian?”
“My friend… he was arrested.” Elian then explained how Borlen was roped into the plot of Thalman, emphasizing how Borlen truly had nothing to do with the theft. “He completely trusted Priest—sorry, just Thalman. Borlen is innocent, I swear.”
“Let worries leave your mind. We have released all those imprisoned in connection with the theft. Your friend should be with them.”
“What did you tell them, if I may know? Not you, specifically. I mean, what’s the official story? You’re not going to say that Thalman is a… traitor, are you?”
Ihadir tilted his head. Elian couldn’t see behind the mask, but he felt that Ihadir was smiling. “What do you think?”
Elian scratched his chin. “If it were me, I’d keep the truth a secret because it would damage the temple’s image. I’d say something like Thalman defended the temple and died a martyr.”
“Martyrdom is perhaps too fast an outcome,” Ihadir said. “For now, word had been spread that Thalman is grievously injured and would take time to recover. Eventually, he will be pronounced dead. There will be a solemn funeral, and another priest will be appointed in his place.”
“I see…”
“Things will have settled before the colossal invaders over the sea come. Pay no more worries about temple affairs. It would be a waste of mental space. Return to your camp and meet your friend. May the Magistrate’s hand bless you in your journey. Till we meet again.”
Ihadir turned left, into another area of the temple. Elian didn’t follow him. Those words were meant as a goodbye. Instead, Elian headed to the exit.
It was past midday when Elian left the temple. The mace hung from the left side of his waist, and a pouch with fulgurate oil on the right. He wore fresh clothes cut in the currently fashionable design of Raelyon, dyed blue and gold like some of the lesser clergy of the temple.
Several pilgrims respectfully greeted him as if he were so. He raised his hands to signal that they were mistaken, but then they noticed his bracelet.
“You are Elian Ward of Gilders,” one gasped. “You have fought off the invaders.”
“I did?” Elian blinked. Apparently, the priests had included him in the official story. “I, uh, I didn’t do much.”
“We’re right! We laid eyes on the stone band of the temple. The priests have recognized your help.”
“Share the tale of your bravery with us,” pleaded another pilgrim.
“It was just a coincidence I was at the temple when the attack happened,” Elian said. “And I really didn’t know what was going on. There was fighting, the guards against figures shrouded in darkness, and I joined in. That’s all there is to it.”
It took him almost two hours to leave Temple Hill, having been stopped at every turn by yet another group of pilgrims. He also passed by fountains that projected the priests giving speeches about ‘preparing for the enemy’ and ‘unity in times of crisis.’ Generic lines that didn’t hint at the true impending threat of the Giant invasion. Still, this was good enough.
More than good enough, thinking about it.
“This might be the best outcome I could ever hope for,” Elian said, looking at the projection of Yonnik telling dozens of pilgrims about the ‘evil attackers’ who wanted to assassinate the Magistrate.
Elian now had an army to help him at Sarnival Port. Getting the Caelidon family to cooperate with the Temples of Tribulation was a major problem, but he’d think about that later. The important thing was that steps were made towards victory. Many big steps.
His immediate focus was on himself. Not only to become stronger, but also to make a name that people would follow. Seeing the pilgrims admire him for stopping the ‘evil attackers’ underlined the importance of a story. A legend. As embarrassing as it sounded in his head, he had to make himself a hero.
“This is just the beginning…”
Elian found that Borlen had already returned to camp. There was much rejoicing, with everyone preparing a feast. They had plenty of reason to celebrate. The ‘evil attackers’, as the pilgrims started calling the fictitious factions, were the real thieves. Tharguras and his followers were framed. Moreover, Tharguras was holding his delayed Tribulation tomorrow.
Each pilgrim had their own theory of what happened, and none of them was the truth. The important thing was that everything was resolved… supposedly.
“Brother Elian!” Borlen hugged him. “I’ve heard that you participated in the temple’s defense.”
“I suppose you want to hear my tale too,” Elian said with a sigh. After concocting different stories, he had settled on a somewhat coherent version that he shared with them.
Naamon was there too, along with several red robes. It seemed that they kept their pact of unity despite Thalman’s efforts to make everyone fight.
After the storytelling session, Elian approached Naamon, asking how to meet with Faridar.
“Do you want to go there now, brother Elian?”
“If possible,” Elian replied. “I know Faridar would leave soon, and so will I.”
An hour later, Elian was inside a tent as wide as a circus tent back on Earth. There were tiers set up, with many people lounging among pillows while eating on short tables. In the middle of the tent was his hugeness, Faridar.
“Greetings, brother Elian Ward of Gilders,” boomed Faridar. “Brother Naamon tells me that you’re selling an item that will help me in my Penitent Path.”
“I’m gathering funds for my travels,” Elian said. And gathering allies, he internally added.
If he surrendered the ring to the priests, the most he’d get were items or maybe money. But with Faridar, he’d get money and a new friend. They wouldn’t simply be fellow Penitents. Faridar would have the means of unsealing the ring and would be more than appreciative of how useful it’d be to his strategy of having a massive Health pool and sacrificing all but one point for blood magic defenses.
Elian held up the ring and called upon its enchantments to show Faridar.
(Sealed) Atoning Fortification of the Penitent
For each hit suffered, increase by one percent the penitent’s Health gain, Armor, and Magic Resilience, up to a hundred.
(Sealed) Omamyar’s Abiding Undeath
Before a strike lands, be it physical or magical, cloak yourself with another layer of life amounting to ten percent of your lost maximum Health to meet it.
“An Omamyar enchantment…” Faridar smiled widely. “How long have I been searching for it to complete my preparations for a Greater Tribulation?” He bent down and extended a hand large enough to completely enclose Elian’s torso. “I’ll buy it.”
Elian grabbed a couple of Faridar’s fingers and shook them. “Deal.”
(Author’s Notes: I initially thought this’d be the last chapter, but we’ll have another one. I suppose one last look at Elian’s stats with the mace. And then goodbyes and leaving for Ohmenstrat and Book 2. Thank you for your support!)
Comments
MilkTheShark
Ahh too bad elian can't use that ring. I was hoping for a flat 100% buff to armor on top of his ridiculous multipliers
Gerardo Jr. Diaz
No worries, this is a period of adjustment to becoming a career writer that I accept. I've written stories before so I know about burn out, and will be avoiding that. Thanks for your support!
Ben Waschuk
Keep up the great work! I'm looking forward to book 2. Also make sure you're taking care of yourself as well :)
