Translator: CinderTL
Roland's fingertips brushed over the exquisite circular hole on his belt, and he could clearly sense a void.
The armor felt like a perfectly structured yet power-less clock tower, or a supercharged sports car with a full engine but an empty fuel tank—dormant and waiting for the day it would be truly "awakened."
If only I could find a suitable power core to embed...
His thoughts began to soar.
At that point, this armor would be far more than mere defense.
It might, like the equipment of the Rust Knights, dramatically enhance his strength and speed. Perhaps it could generate a sustained energy shield, or even unlock unknown special abilities.
Short-range flight, optical camouflage, or an integrated energy weapon system—all were possibilities.
Even Roland's stoic nature couldn't help but yearn for the vision of himself, fully armored and radiating power, cutting through the battlefield like a living god.
The thought immediately sparked a solution.
During the earlier cleanup of the Rust Knights, the Plunder trait hadn't yielded any significant loot.
However, he had had Durga and the grey dwarf subordinates salvage the weapons and armor that weren't too severely damaged.
Among those creations, there must be functional power cores.
"After we return, I'll see if I can salvage a few intact cores from the salvaged items to test.", Once he made up his mind, he looked back at the imposing figure reflected in the metal shelf and nodded in satisfaction.
Acquiring this armor had solved his most urgent problem.
His weapons had always been formidable, from his initial Mithril Longsword to the awakened Radiant Moon, both considered divine blades.
But his defenses had always been a weakness.
Ordinary armor had become not only useless but a hindrance in increasingly intense battles.
And forging a set from rare materials himself? That was easier said than done.
When he had originally traveled to the Stone Kingdom, his plan had been to purchase mithril to forge armor. Unfortunately, a series of subsequent events had forced him to abandon that plan.
To think that in this forgotten ancient ruin, he would so serendipitously acquire armor that seemed tailor-made for him.
It was like someone delivering a pillow just when he was about to fall asleep.
With his equipment issues greatly alleviated, Roland's thoughts turned to another deficiency: effective ranged attack methods.
Though he now possessed some spells, most were low-level first and second-circle spells. While they proved surprisingly effective in auxiliary combat, their destructive power was insufficient against formidable enemies.
"It's a shame I didn't find anything like the hand cannon Hagrid used here..."
Roland couldn't help but feel a pang of regret.
The Corrosive Hand Cannon's instantaneous burst of power had left a deep impression on him.
Unfortunately, Hagrid's own unit was already in poor condition, and after firing its final shot at him, it had been completely destroyed, rendering it unusable.
"Never mind, the gains from this expedition have already far exceeded my expectations."
Roland collected his thoughts.
"I've been away for so long. To prevent Avril and the others from worrying, it's time to return."
Thinking this, Roland retrieved the Secret Imprisonment Dice from his pouch. The dice, obtained from the Mistland, were covered in mysterious markings.
With practiced movements, he manipulated the dice. After a moment, a faint spatial fluctuation occurred, and a narrow, unstable rift just large enough for one person to pass through materialized before him.
The item sealed within the dice remained beyond his ability to safely break the magic restrictions. To prevent damaging it through forced destruction, Roland had temporarily repurposed it as an extremely convenient portable storage space.
Just as the flickering spatial rift stabilized, Roland was about to toss the bundle of "defective goods" he had wrapped into it.
A raspy, desperate female voice, yet still carrying a strange, seductive quality, suddenly pierced through the depths of the rift, echoing through the silent vault.
"Let me out! You damn, cold-hearted human! I can smell it—I can smell the air of freedom! Please—even for just a moment—"
The voice belonged to Celeste.
The succubus, whose head Roland had severed but who had survived due to the plunder trait, remained alive.
With no immediate use for her, Roland had casually tossed her head into the chaotic space of the Secret Imprisonment Dice. To his surprise, after all this time, she could still sense the opening to the outside world.
Roland's movements didn't falter, as if he were merely hearing an insignificant gust of wind.
With a flick of his wrist, the bundle of miscellaneous items sailed precisely into the rift.
"No! Wait! I can tell you secrets! About the abyss, about those ancient beings! I know you crave strength—" Celeste's voice grew increasingly shrill, laced with desperate pleading and a barely perceptible, venomous curse.
Roland remained expressionless, his finger lightly tapping the Secret Imprisonment Dice. The incident in the Golden Valley Kingdom, where he'd been cursed by a demon, still haunted him. Such curses could trigger abruptly, ignoring strength, space, and distance. Roland had no desire to be touched by one again.
Therefore, unless absolutely necessary, he had no interest in conversing further with her.
Even though the succubus now only had her head left.
In an instant, as if the source of the signal had been severed, Celeste's shrill wails and all her seductive promises abruptly ceased, vanishing without a trace.
The spatial rift silently closed, and the surroundings returned to deathly silence.
"Hmm—"
Tracy's small body shuddered, and she flew back to Roland's shoulder, patting her chest with lingering fear.
"No matter how many times I see it, hearing that succubus's voice still terrifies me. It's so eerie—"
Roland gently stroked her trembling wings with his finger, his voice calm.
"It's just the futile rage of a defeated prisoner. Nothing to worry about."
His reassurance, though brief, was effective. Tracy nodded vigorously, seeming to relax somewhat.
With the immediate problem resolved, Roland turned his attention back to himself.
While the armor was undoubtedly magnificent and offered incredible defense, it was also far too conspicuous for everyday wear.
He recalled the instantaneous speed with which the armor had covered his entire body and had an idea.
The best strategy would be to keep it stored away during normal times and activate it instantly when combat was required.
"How... do I retract it then?"
The thought had barely formed in his mind when a gentle resonance, a subtle connection between his soul and the bracelet, pulsed once more, as if answering his question.
This peculiar sensation stirred Roland. He focused his mind, picturing the bracelet's form, and projected a mental command: "Return."
Almost as soon as his intent took hold, the dark silver armor covering his body seemed to shed its physical constraints.
Like quicksilver receding from the tide, or a phantom erased by an invisible hand, it began to dissolve and contract simultaneously from every part of his torso.
The flowing, ethereal blue light roads dimmed and retreated inward.
The entire process was fluid, swift, and silent.
In the blink of an eye, the once-imposing full-body armor had completely vanished, leaving only his original clothes and the ancient, dark silver bracelet quietly encircling his left wrist.
"Truly remarkable..."
Roland stroked the cool bracelet on his wrist, a glint of curiosity in his eyes.
Who could have crafted such a miraculous artifact, one capable of resonating with the wearer's very soul?
Pushing this new mystery aside for the moment, he didn't linger.
"Let's go, Tracy. It's time to head back."
With a call, he led the pixie along the path they had taken, quickly ascending to the upper levels from memory.
When they leaped out from the edge of the massive pit and stepped back onto the surface of the Aetheron Wasteland, night had already fallen.
The perpetually murky Skyveil overhead glowed a deep, dark purple, almost completely obscuring the starlight.
Only a few abnormally bright, strangely colored "stars" cast faint, distorted patches of light through the veil, barely outlining the grotesque shapes of the shattered hills and twisted rock formations across the land.
The wind howled across the wasteland, whipping up sand that tasted of rust and moaning like the whispers of vengeful spirits.
In the distance, the darkness occasionally erupted with chilling, unidentifiable howls, adding to the sense of unknown danger and oppression that permeated this silent, lost continent.
The long underground exploration had, without them realizing it, consumed an entire day.
Looking around, they were enveloped in thick darkness so dense it was almost impossible to see their hands.
Despite the Abyssal Touch and Shadow Dance Form traits that allowed Roland's vision and senses to remain clear and unobstructed even in such extreme darkness, his reason told him that journeying through this unfamiliar and perilous wasteland in the dead of night was akin to willingly exposing himself to countless unknown dangers lurking in the shadows.
Perhaps... it would be safer to retreat to the vicinity of the ruins' entrance, find a relatively secure place to rest for the night, and return to Rust Town after dawn?
The thought had barely formed in his mind when
"Roland! Look over there!"
Tracy's urgent, slightly panicked cry interrupted his thoughts.
Her small body tensed, wings vibrating rapidly, and her slender fingers shot out, pointing sharply in a particular direction across the wasteland.
Roland's heart tightened. Without hesitation, he gently pushed off from the ground with the tip of his toes.
Driven by the immense power of the Source Law Engine, his leap was so light and agile that it seemed to completely break free from the earth's constraints. His body shot skyward like an arrow loosed from a bow.
Crimson Battle Qi swirled around him, not for attack, but to skillfully distort the surrounding air currents, allowing him to briefly hover in mid-air. His vision suddenly expanded.
He immediately strained his eyes and scanned the horizon in the direction Tracy had pointed.
There, at the edge of the distant horizon—where endless darkness should have consumed everything—unstable energy lights now flickered incessantly.
The light wasn't uniform; at times, it erupted in murky, eerie green, while at others, it burst into chaotic flashes of crimson or deep purple, all exuding an aura of violence and ill omen.
Even from such a distance, the night wind carried faint, muffled explosions and—
a cacophony of countless, shrill, and frenzied roars and howls.
Beneath that sky, massive, distorted shadows writhed, and tiny points of light scattered like a startled swarm of bees, clearly engaged in a chaotic and brutal battle.
The terrain of that area was dimly visible amidst the occasional blinding flashes of explosions.
This was the location of Rust Town.
Seeing this, Roland hovered in mid-air, his brow furrowed tightly.
(End of the Chapter)
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