Mydei’s mouth twitched slightly. "Yes... Lady Aglaea, he’s... well... started using those... peculiar thods again." The last few words were practically forced out through gritted teeth.
After all, he, Mydeimos, Crown Prince of Castrum Kremnos, a warrior fad for his valor and fortitude, had truly, solidly felt the impact of Phaethon’s inexplicable "rod" attacks!
And just monts ago, he had also witnessed firsthand how that seemingly lazy, sotis boneless individual used giant tal pillars like pool cues, calmly calculating angles against a roaring tide of terrifying monsters, and then—
*Cleared the table with one shot!*
Even recalling it now, Mydei felt a phantom ache in his spine.
...
A few days later.
"This place... is this your holand, Mydei? Castrum Kremnos?" Phaethon stepped out of the gently shimring Infinity Gate. He looked around, taking in the sight of a massive yet undeniably desolate city-state.
Weathered stone structures stood in silent vigil. Broad streets were empty. Only wind and sand whistled through the ruins of broken walls, exuding the bleakness of a faded glory.
"Yes. It’s... been a long ti since I returned." Mydei’s gaze swept over every familiar corner. The clamor and splendor of the past seed to echo faintly, only to be rcilessly shattered by the deathly quiet before him.
"Mydei, I never realized your ho was this big?" Phainon marveled.
*(Phaethon had personally demonstrated to Phainon what it ans to give a fist when you can’t give a reason...— ahem, this section was demanded to be struck out by Phainon.)*
In short, after Phaethon "reasoned with him passionately and logically," thoroughly analyzing all pros and cons, Phainon ultimately "willingly" accepted his fate of having a rich storyline in Castorice’s writings.
"Humph, ’Savior,’ you should know," Mydei crossed his arms, a trace of pride coloring his recollection of the past, "during Castrum Kremnos’s peak, even with only five percent of its garrison remaining, the two of us combined wouldn’t have made it thirty paces within these walls."
"What if you add to the mix?" Phaethon asked with interest upon hearing this.
"...That would be pointless." Mydei’s mouth twitched almost imperceptibly, swiftly ending the topic as he turned to walk ahead.
*(Mydei: Brother, don’t you have any self-awareness about what you are? You’re literally a cheat code!)*
"Oh right! Mydei," Phaethon suddenly rembered a crucial matter, instantly discarding his sentintality, his tone becoming excited, "I heard Castrum Kremnos is covered in Kremnos Indigo Ore?" The thought of that unique ore leading to an epic expansion of his arsenal made him a little excited.
"It is a rumor." Mydei poured cold water on it without rcy. "Only the northern quarry district of Castrum Kremnos holds rich veins of Indigo Ore. And what’s mined is rely raw ore. It requires careful slting and alloying with specific proportions to beco the true, nigh-indestructible Kremnos Indigo Ore you’re thinking of."
"Mydei, you always say the Kremnoan dictionary lacks this and that. I want to see for myself today just how many words are missing from your people’s dictionary," Phainon, also intrigued, joined the "investigation."
"Feel free to look. If you can find one..." Mydei seed indifferent to this.
"Mydei! Look at this mural!" Phaethon called out, pointing to an ancient, rather abstract-style mural carved into a massive stone. "It says here that Kremnoan warriors bathe in molten iron and drink ad brewed from blood..."
"Bathe in molten iron?! No wonder!" Phainon had a sudden epiphany. "Every ti we compete in the high-temperature baths to see who lasts longer, you always win! So it’s a racial trait!"
"And this one! Mydei..." Phaethon’s voice ca again.
"..." Mydei was struck speechless, a wave of intense exasperation washing over him.
How had he never noticed before just how *chatty* and *scatterbrained* this pair of twins could be?
"You two!" Mydei had to raise his voice, forcibly steering the conversation back on track. "We are here to confront the Undying God-King—Nikador! Not to hold a Kremnoan Cultural Symposium! Save the chatter for *after* we survive that being’s clutches!"
"Alright, alright," Phaethon defended himself. "But we haven’t found where it’s hiding yet." As he spoke, he raised a hand and instantly opened dozens of bowl-sized miniature Infinity Gates around them, beginning an efficient sweep of the entire city.
"Hmm..." Mydei was montarily taken aback.
"What are you looking at? What? I have Infinity Gates now. Did you really expect to solve puzzles one by one?" Phaethon shrugged.
When one gate opened above the northern quarry district, Phaethon’s gaze was instantly captured by the deep blue glow of the mountainous piles of ore below.
He subconsciously swallowed, trying to sound less greedy. "Mydei, these... these piles of Indigo Ore here... they’re probably useless to you now, right? Could I maybe... take just a tiny bit?"
"Help yourself." Mydei’s attention was rapidly scanning the gates serving as "eyes." Suddenly, his gaze sharpened, pointing precisely at one of them. "Found it! It must be there! The aura coming from beyond this gate... it’s unmistakable. That is the slumbering place of my people’s forr deity, the Undying God-King—Nikador!"
"Oh—" Hearing this, Phaethon reluctantly tore his gaze away from the tempting ore mountain and looked in the direction Mydei indicated.
But the next mont, his eyes widened dramatically, his face instantly etched with disbelief.
Guess what he saw above Castrum Kremnos?
Good heavens! It was a sword! An enormous, ancient-styled greatsword, its entire body flowing with a somber radiance, as if it had been suspended there since ti immorial!
Phaethon rembered instantly! The legend of this "Blade of Fury"! It was massive, heavy, and incredibly sturdy! It was said it could channel energy to fire destructive beams!
What was this? This was the ultimate throwing material that perfectly t all his requirents! Enormous mass, incredibly high material strength, and absolutely top-tier heat resistance!
More importantly—it was *cool*! Which was cooler: launching an ancient legendary greatsword from space, or throwing a dumb, thick, black tal pillar? There was no contest. It was definitely the forr!
"Mydei! Mydei! That one! That one! I want that one!" Phaethon grabbed Mydei’s arm, pointing excitedly at the giant sword suspended high above Castrum Kremnos, seemingly dominating everything.
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