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Now reading: Chapter 52 - The Destroyer from Forged Legacy, a Action novel by Draven A Stark - Forged Legacy.

“Are you ok?” Elena fussed.

“Yeah.” Harvey wheezed, licking his lips. “Better than ok! I think I just got the first Epic skill in Veils End.”

“Actually…” She winced, staring at the floor.

“What?” Harvey asked.

“You didn’t. Gary has one.” She mumbled.

“You’re kidding! For what? Sucking the blood out of sobody competent!” He groaned.

“I don’t know what it does, but he was bragging about a new profession skill at dinner last night. Said we’d have a lot more rit to spend soon.” She shared.

“God, I can’t stand that guy. What does he need more rit for? Doesn’t he already waste enough stuffing his face with takeout from back ho?” Harvey complained.

“It’s not just the food anymore. He and Amy are both back in Jeans and t-shirts most of the ti, and yesterday he was putting together an honest to god couch for the living room.” Elena chuckled.

“A couch? Was it at least a crappy one?” Harvey gasped.

“Nope, real leather with so fancy wood. I have no idea where he’s getting the money for it all.” Elena laughed.

“ neither. He’d have to be out on a murder spree all day.” He sniped. “At least when he’s not too busy putting furniture together. I can see why you want to stay on his good side.”

“That’s not why.” She sighed.

“Then what is it?” Harvey asked.

“I told you, I don’t want to talk about it! Why are we even worrying about him right now anyway? Don’t you want to test out your new skill?” She asked, dodging his question.

He thought about pushing harder, but decided he wasn’t going to let Gary ruin a good day. He’d spent days worrying about making the wrong decision, and now that it was finally made, he couldn’t wait to see the results.

The duo rushed out of the church, kicking up dust behind them as they sprinted back to the smithy. He stopped to tell a few clients with outstanding orders that he’d be resuming work, but forestalled any further conversation. He did take the ti to find the leatherworker and practically drag her back with them.

“Harvey! Chill out! What’s got you in such a rush?” She asked.

“I just got my level 20 skill, and I can’t test it out until you finish all the belts and straps that will hold this suit of armor together. I don’t care what it costs, I’ll buy you whatever you want for dinner tonight if you get started right now.” He blurted.

“Anything?” She asked, a devious smile replacing the annoyance plastered on her face.

“Anything,” Harvey assured. “As long as it’s edible. I’m not going to buy you a new bow and let you call that dinner.”

“I want a Caesar salad, a 12-oz fillet mignon, a large cola, and two brownies.” She bead.

“Damn! Doesn’t the steak and brownies kind of offset the salad?” Harvey teased.

“You could kill him.” Elena suggested, “I’m not sure if it would give you all of his rit, but it should at least be enough for dinner.”

“That’s a good idea, Elena.” She chuckled.

“Fine, I’ll get five brownies and we can all share.” He smiled.

It was an expensive order, leaving him almost 3,000 rit poorer, but it was worth it. He’d been craving a taste of ho anyway, but had always talked himself out of the indulgence. Now, he had a good excuse.

The dessert lted in his mouth, gooey chocolate coating his tongue. He didn’t know if it was so benefit of an essence-infused body or the aftereffects of not eating any sugar for over a week, but it was the most delectable taste he’d ever experienced. The three sat around a table in the smithy, chatting while they worked on their various projects.

It was mostly the two won talking, Harvey having to focus as he struggled to replicate the firelight effect Hannah had inscribed on his cuffs. He couldn’t use her work as a template since he was using the opposite thod than she preferred, and was running into problems.

The simple light effect was significantly simpler than the force distribution he’d infused in the chestplate, but he was exhausted. He felt his weave ache, both from overuse and the strain of being redrawn, but refused to let himself rest. Three tis he lost control of the ink, the latent will inside it burning up and destroying the pattern, but he finally succeeded in completing the pattern on his right gauntlet on the fourth attempt. He failed twice more on the left hand, but was successful on his seventh try.

Projects that would have taken days in the old world were accomplished in hours with the help of System-enhanced bodies, and the leatherworker presented his completed armor set not long after he finished his own task.

“Alright, it’s ready. Let’s get you into it so I can make any adjustnts you need.” She announced.

Harvey stood patiently while she adjusted a few stitches and made new holes for the various belts to cinch into, but he couldn’t help staring at the tunnel just outside the window.

Do I have sothing against elentals? He asked himself. No, they’re just so convenient. Always ready for a fight when you want to test out a new toy.

He felt the change the mont the breastplate touched his skin. If channeling essence into infused gear was like pouring in water, wearing the breastplate was like gas flooding to fill an expanded container. His aura followed the essence, and it felt like he was touching his own skin as he dragged a finger over one of the inscribed runes.

It was just like the skill said, the armor beca an extension of his body. He felt it as intimately as his own chest, and knew every inch of the inscription like it had been a part of him forever. He’d thought his combined use of Inventor’s Insight and Perfect Finish had dealt with all the imperfections left over from the crafting process, but felt a few weak spots where he hadn’t reached the full potential of the tal. There were dozens of problems with his inscription, but that was to be expected.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“Is sothing wrong?” Elena asked.

“Huh?” Harvey blinked. He noticed his mouth was strangely dry and realized he’d been standing slack-jawed since the mont she put it on. “Oh, yeah. Just getting used to it.”

“Is it working?” She whispered.

“Like a charm.” He smiled. “It’s like a second set of skin.”

“It sure doesn’t move like it.” The leatherworker laughed. “This is all so clunky, I don’t know how you expect to fight in it.”

“Not quietly.” He admitted, the tal creaking as plates slid over one another. “But, it’s designed to maintain most of my range of motion. It still feels heavy even with 108 points in Strength. I can’t fathom wearing it as a normal human.”

“I’ve been wondering,” Elena began. “Your skill says you’ll share strength and pain with the armor through the link. The pain makes sense if you’re saying you can feel when soone’s touching the armor, but what about the strength?”

“I…” he stamred, “don’t actually know! Hadn’t gotten that far.”

He checked his status screen, wondering if his stats had changed at all. It took so quick ntal math, but it looked like both his Vitality and Endurance had increased by 2.

Didn’t I have 128 Endurance before? I honestly can’t rember. He mused until kicking himself for ignoring one of the main benefits of his Inventor’s Insight skill. It gave him useful asurents around the forge, but it also allowed him to inspect materials that the System didn’t naturally provide notifications for. Sending a trickle of essence towards his eyes, he focused on the breastplate.

Items

Wrought Iron Breastplate (Inscribed) | G Grade:

A Wrought Iron Breastplate forged and inscribed by Harvey Thorne, inlaid with three G Grade essence crystals, and inscribed with runes that disperse force from incoming attacks across a larger area.

Soul Forge | 2 Vitality, 2 Endurance

“There it is! The armor is giving stats!” Harvey cheered.

“What? Really! How have I not heard this from the other people you’ve crafted for?” The leatherworker shouted.

“It only works for him.” Elena smiled. “Part of his new skill.”

“Bull! Let try it on,” She said, moving to unstrap the piece from the backplate, making up his cuirass.

Elena moved to protest, but Harvey waved her off. “You’re free to try!”

She struggled to fasten the armor to her significantly smaller fra, and swore when nothing changed.

“You’re the worst. Why can’t I get anything cool?” She huffed.

“I got the skill after Elena taught to inscribe my own gear,” he began. “Maybe she can teach you, too, and you can make sothing similar?”

“I don’t have ti,” the leatherworker complained. “I’m busy enough as it is making armor for the less brutish Veilstriders.”

“Suit yourself! And really, thank you so much for your help.” Harvey effused.

“Thanks for spending thousands of rit on food to bribe for sothing I planned on doing anyway. Sucker.” She laughed, giving them both a hug before walking out the door.

“Will you help strap this all back on?” Harvey asked.

“Why? You know it all fits, you aren’t going to wear it to sleep now, are you?” She asked.

“Who said anything about sleep? I need to go test it out against so elentals!” Harvey laughed.

“No.” She started, growing louder as he began fumbling with the pieces himself. “No! You are not going into that tunnel right now!”

“Why not?” He grinned.

“Because you’re exhausted. Don’t think I didn’t see you fail that inscription over and over again. Did you forget that you pulled an all-nighter yesterday?” She groaned.

“I drank an endurance potion!” He retorted.

“That’s not the sa as sleep. Besides, that does nothing to rest your weave. You need to go to bed.” She chastised.

“The sun hasn’t even finished setting yet.” He complained, like a child arguing with their babysitter. The pale glow of day was changing into an orange and purple sunset just outside the window. She wasn’t wrong that he’d been awake for almost 36 hours and could use the rest, but were the Undead going to rest in their mission to invade their ho?

Yeah, that’s a great excuse. He thought.

“Do you think the Undead are sleeping before sundown? No, they’re probably marching towards us as we speak. How bad would you feel if I died at the hands of so skeleton man because you didn’t let test my armor?” He grinned.

“Not as bad as I would if you got crushed by a rock man because you fell asleep mid-fight!” She scread. He enjoyed poking fun at her, but her playful facade was slowly cracking. He wasn’t going to give in, but that didn’t an he had to be a jerk about it.

“Listen, I appreciate you looking out for . I really do!” He repeated, grabbing both her arms and pulling her to face him. “I know my limits, and I haven’t reached them yet. I’ve still got a little bit left in the tank for today, and don’t want to waste it.”

“You better not do anything stupid.” She warned, begrudgingly moving to strap his breastplate to the backplate.

“I won’t.” He promised.

The last piece he put on was his gauntlets, and his skill bonded them with his weave just like the breastplate. Inspecting them, the inscriptions didn’t provide any stats, but he still felt the tal like it was an extension of his own hand. It was strange... only his hands and chest were integrated into the new tal body he had built for himself. The rest of his limbs felt like he was a turtle in a shell, while his hands had beco the shell. He’d have to add inscribing the rest of his gear into his daily rotation.

Pushing through the back door, he took a deep breath. It was getting colder, and he let the icy air fill his lungs, shocking him awake. No matter what he said, his body and weave were exhausted. He wouldn’t dare to fight if he didn’t have a health potion ready and waiting in his slipsack.

With a thought, the essence coursing through his gauntlets in the natural cycle of his weave entered the inscriptions, light appearing all around him. Where Elena’s shone with the warm glow of a campfire, his looked more like an LED bulb. It did an even better job of lighting the dark tunnel, and he strode in feeling as confident as ever. Which was good, because the scrape of tal on tal echoing down the tunnel ant everything down there would be warned of his arrival. He didn’t even bother bringing the minecart anymore since he had room in his slipsack for whatever bounty awaited him.

The tunnel was empty, and he saw nothing in the cave ahead of him.

“Hello! Anybody down here!” He called out, his voice tinkling off the jagged crystals. When no response ca, he walked out of the tunnel.

I guess none wandered up here. He mused, just as a rock pinged off the back of his helt.

Turning around, a fist buried itself right in his chest, sending him flying onto his back. An ear-curdling screech rang out as armor grinded against the stone floor, and a wracking cough echoed within his helt. Two hulking elentals stood at either side of the tunnel, with the mass of a third falling down from its hiding spot, draining the crystals above the entrance. It was like they’d been waiting for him, setting a trap to block his escape the mont he arrived.

Smarter every day. He groaned.

The inscriptions worked as intended, spreading the force from the blow over his entire chest. Without it, the piece would probably have dented, leaving him to be strangled by his own armor until he could loosen the straps. He felt the punch soul deep, the damage taken by the armor leaking into his weave. It hurt significantly less than if he’d taken the punch to his real chest, proving that feeling it as a second skin didn’t lessen its protective power.

Rolling to his stomach, he pressed himself up to his knees. He saw a new creature standing 15 feet in front of him. It was still an elental, a dervish of iron floating above a column of stone, but its body had been fully refined. What was once a hulking mix of stone and ore was now a slender, iron man. It had living eyes that stared down at him with rage.

It spoke in stilted, stuttered words, a guttural, gravelly voice ringing out from its silver lips. “The destroyer… returns.”

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