We made our way toward Thrymir’s shop, the crisp night air carrying the soft hum of the forge in the distance. Trish walked beside me, her steps light, almost brimming with anticipation. I wasn’t sure if it was because she was just as eager to see my armor as I was to wear it, or if she was simply excited to retrieve the extra Voltherium I had promised her.

“Where’s everyone else?” I asked, only now realizing that I hadn’t seen anyone all day, not even Brakor, which was unusual.

Trish shrugged, but something about the movement felt too casual, too calculated. My eyes narrowed.

“What are you not telling me?” My voice carried a note of suspicion.

Her lips twitched, the corners of her mouth pulling into a barely-contained smirk. But instead of answering, she simply picked up her pace.

I blinked. “Hey now, you don’t get to just…”

Before I could finish, she suddenly bolted into a full sprint, her laughter ringing through the cool night air.

That sound. That beautiful sound. It caught me off guard for a fraction of a second, just long enough for her to gain ground.

But I wasn’t about to let her win that easily.

“Alright, that’s how we’re playing it?” I grinned, launching forward in pursuit.

The chase was short-lived but exhilarating, the cool wind rushing past us as we raced toward the shop. Just as she reached the doors, I caught her, my arms wrapping around her waist as I spun her to face me.

She laughed breathlessly, pressing a quick, soft kiss to my lips before tilting her head toward the door, her golden-brown eyes gleaming with mischief.

That’s when I knew.

Something was up.

And sure enough, as I turned and stepped inside, I was met with the sight of everyone already there, waiting for me.

Thrymir stood with his arms crossed, an air of satisfaction settling over him as he observed the armor displayed before him. Even for someone of his experience, there was a certain pride in his gaze, a craftsman admiring his finest work. But my eyes weren’t just drawn to the armor.

Beside it, something new caught my attention.

A cloak.

It was long and regal, a deep midnight purple, embroidered with vibrant golden lines in an intricate pattern that mirrored the etchings Thrymir had carved into my armor. Thick fur lined the top edge, luxurious yet practical, offering warmth against the elements. A gleaming silver clasp secured it, catching the flickering forge light.

My gaze flicked back to the armor itself, the pieces laid out in perfect order, familiar yet subtly altered since I had last seen them. Thrymir’s claws had worked their magic in my absence, refining the details, perfecting the craftsmanship.

The helm shone with a tempered polish, the faint ridge that ran from the brow to the back of the skull catching the light like the blade of a honed weapon. The narrow eye slits glowed softly from within, the veins of Voltherium pulsing beneath the surface, alive. The reinforced faceplate had raised vertical ridges, not just for strength but to create an imposing presence, a warrior’s visage, cut from the black of the abyss itself.

I stepped forward, my fingers instinctively brushing over the cold metal. Every piece, every line, told a story of labor and precision, of countless hours spent forging something more than just armor.

And then, a notification appeared before my eyes.

WOULD YOU LIKE TO BIND TO THIS ARMOR? YES NO

I blinked, caught off guard. I looked up at Thrymir, then to the unfamiliar woman standing to his left. Neither of them seemed surprised.

They just smiled.

I didn’t question it.

I reached out to accept the binding.

ERROR: #!%#@#%!

My brows furrowed. My gaze swept over the interface, searching for a reason, an explanation.

Then, a whisper stirred in my mind.

“Touch me to the armor while accepting.”

Virellia.

I reached into my pocket and pulled her forth, the cool weight of her presence settling into my palm. Thrymir’s expression flickered with curiosity as I extended her toward the armor.

In an instant, her form shifted.

A flash of light, and she was no longer the unassuming hilt she had rested in before. She extended into her flail form, the celestial head drifting over the armor’s surface, waiting.

At that exact moment, I hit yes.

The forge flickered, the very air humming with energy.

A brilliant light erupted, forcing me to shield my eyes. A pulse of warmth flooded through me, and I felt the armor shift, not physically, but in something deeper, something fundamental.

The connection was forging.

“What’s happening?” I asked, voice tight with anticipation.

Virellia’s response was calm yet edged with something ancient. “It is bonding to more than just you. We are one. If something is to bind itself to you, it must bind itself to me as well.”

The glow intensified before finally dimming to something softer, something more refined.

I lowered my arm, blinking against the residual brightness.

And then, I saw it.

The armor had changed.

What once had been silver-blue veins threading through the blackened Voltherium were now golden-blue, a richer, deeper glow that pulsed like molten starlight. The intricate etched lines Thrymir had carved weren’t just decorative anymore, they, too, were illuminated, creating an effect like marbled gold lightning streaking across the obsidian metal.

A transformation had occurred.

Virellia had left her mark.

The forge fell silent.

Thrymir let out a slow exhale, stepping back as he ran a clawed hand over his jaw. His single eye studied the armor, something unreadable settling in his gaze.

“Well, pup…” his voice rumbled, quieter than usual, laced with something heavier. “That ain’t normal.”

He let the words hang for a moment before finally letting out a deep, rumbling chuckle. “But I can’t say I mind seein’ it.”

I turned toward him, searching for some kind of explanation, but before I could speak, the woman beside him broke her silence.

She smiled, not in amusement, not in surprise, but as if she had expected this.

Mel’s gaze flickered to her, realization dawning in her expression. “You said the last enchantment would create a bond… I had no idea this is what you meant.” Her eyes shifted toward the armor, now glowing with its new golden-blue veins.

The woman gave a small chuckle, tilting her head slightly. “As much as I would love to say I knew this would happen… I cannot.” She then turned to Mel, raising a brow. “Though, you neglected to mention he had a bonded sentient weapon.”

Mel shifted on her feet, rubbing the back of her neck. “I… didn’t think it would matter.”

The woman hummed in thought before shaking her head. “It changes nothing about the armor itself, nor the enchantments we laid upon it… well, except for the new luminescence.” Her sharp gaze landed on me. “All this bond does is ensure the armor cannot be stolen from you. If someone were to try, it would simply reappear in your inventory.”

I blinked, processing that. “Is… that something that happens a lot?”

Brakor let out a deep chuckle. “Not as much theft, more if you were to lose a piece in battle. Say your helm gets knocked off during a dungeon fight, you won’t have to waste time searching for it. It will always return to you.”

My eyebrows shot up at that. Well, that’s useful. I let out a low whistle. “That’ll be very helpful.”

Thrymir grunted, clearly growing impatient. “Well? Are you going to inspect it, or just sit there admirin’ how pretty it is?”

“Now, hold on, you grumpy old fart,” Liyra scolded, shooting him a glare as she pointed toward the cloak laid out on the table. “He needs to inspect this first. If I need to make any adjustments while he’s looking over the armor and putting it on, I can get them done.”

Thrymir huffed, clearly unimpressed but relenting.

I chuckled and reached down, lifting the cloak carefully. The fabric was soft yet dense, the golden embroidery catching the forge light as it shifted in my hands.

[Regal Cloak of Resilience]

This cloak provides 5% resistance to all elements, reflecting elemental damage back to attackers.

My eyes widened. That’s… incredible. I stared at the cloak, my fingers running over the thick fur lining.

“Bah! Too long. Give it here,” Liyra said, waving a hand impatiently. “I’ll fix it.”

I handed it over immediately, barely able to contain my grin, before finally turning my full attention to the armor before me.

[Duskforged Vailguard] – Crafted by Thrymir (Assisted by James)

BONUS STRENGTH – 120

BONUS DEXTERITY – 100

BONUS INTELLIGENCE – 68

BONUS ARMOR – 77

ENCHANTMENT(Shirulia, Assisted by Mel) – Stat Bonuses.

ENCHANTMENT(Shirulia) – Armor Bonding(Bonded to James and Virellia)

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My jaw nearly hit the floor.

The armor radiated power, not just from the stats displayed in my menu, but in the way it commanded presence.

The blackened plates, smooth yet unyielding, pulsed with veins of golden-blue light, their soft glow shifting like breathing embers. The etchings carved by Thrymir weren’t just decorations; they wove across the armor like ancient markings of a warlord, precise, intentional.

I reached for the first piece, eager to feel the weight of it in my hands.

Brakor cleared his throat, halting me mid-motion. “Hold on, I’ve got one more thing for you.”

He set something on the table, a belt, thick leather reinforced with inlaid metal, and more importantly, a custom holster for Virellia’s hilt.

“It’s nothing fancy,” Brakor admitted, arms crossed. “Heard your last one got wrecked, so I figured you’d need something sturdier. This should match your armor well enough.”

I ran a hand over the belt, feeling its sturdiness, its purpose. “Thank you, Brakor. This is a welcome gift.” I clasped his massive, clawed hand in gratitude, the brief nod he gave me holding far more weight than words.

Turning back, I cast a quick glance at Max, Leo, and Trish, half-expecting someone else to interrupt before I could finally put the damn armor on.

Max smirked. “We’re just here for the big unveiling.” He gestured between himself and Leo, who nodded.

Trish, arms crossed, gave me a sly look. “I just want my ore.”

I laughed, shaking my head, then turned back to the Duskforged Vailguard and began strapping on each piece.

Piece by piece, I secured the armor, feeling the weight settle around me, not as a burden, but as a promise.

Thrymir assisted where necessary, clasping the more complex points, ensuring a perfect fit.

I could have equipped it instantly through my inventory, just a single thought, and it would be on me.

But this? This felt right.

The ritual of donning it, of securing every plate, every clasp, every buckle, was grounding, a moment to fully absorb what this meant.

When I finally stood, fully armored, the forge was silent.

The others were watching me, their expressions unreadable at first.

Then, Liyra stepped forward, holding up the cloak. She inspected its size against my frame, adjusting her angle, before throwing it over my shoulders.

She clasped it to the right, allowing the fabric to drape naturally off my left shoulder, exactly as it was designed. The black fur lining met perfectly at the chest, where the silver clasp gleamed in the firelight.

I shifted my stance, rolling my shoulders, adjusting to the armor’s balance.

“Well?” I asked, looking between them.

Trish was the first to speak, her golden-brown eyes tracing every piece. “You look… amazing.”

The others nodded in agreement, their gazes lingering with a mix of admiration and anticipation.

I opened my menu, my pulse quickening as the new stats unfolded before me.

STATS

LEVEL – 104, Adventurer

STRENGTH – 524

DEXTERITY – 432

INTELLECT – 410

WISDOM – 133

LUCK – 65

ARMOR – 82 (Physical damage reduction: 47%)

RACIAL PASSIVES:

* INNATE ARMOR BONUS – 10% of maximum armor added

* INNATE FIRE BONUS TO MELEE ATTACKS – 10% increased fire damage on melee attacks

A slow grin spread across my face as the numbers settled in my mind.

I clenched a fist, feeling the armor’s weight, its power, how it moved with me rather than against me.

I was ready.

I exhaled, the firelight casting flickering shadows across the forge, and murmured under my breath:

“Oh yeah… I am so ready for some dungeons now.”

I removed the helm with a thought, sending it seamlessly into my inventory before turning toward Thrymir with a grateful grin.

“I really appreciate your help,” I said, genuine gratitude lacing my voice.

Then, shifting my gaze, I met Shirulia’s and Mel’s eyes. “And thank you two for these amazing enchantments.”

Shirulia offered a small, knowing nod, her smile subtle yet warm.

Mel, on the other hand, was practically buzzing with excitement, her turquoise eyes glowing even brighter, as if she could barely contain herself.

I turned to Trish, my grin widening.

“You ready?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

Her golden-brown eyes gleaming with anticipation as she nodded. “Yeah. I’m curious to see what this ability has in store for this ore.”

The unintentional rhyme made me chuckle inwardly, but I stayed focused.

I turned toward the massive pile still sitting in the corner, Duriron and Voltherium stacked high, untouched since our last haul. With a flick of my will, I pulled it all into my inventory, then stepped outside, the others following behind me.

Once outside, I placed all the Voltherium onto the ground in a gleaming, metallic mound, unsure how much her ability would actually require. Hopefully, I had gathered enough to have some extra, though, if not, we could always mine more.

I stepped back with the others, giving Trish space.

She closed her eyes, her breathing steadying, and in an instant, her wardrobe appeared beside the pile. The massive, ornate piece of furniture loomed, its doors creaking open, revealing the void within.

Then, like before, Trish was pulled inside.

I watched as the Voltherium barely shifted, only a fraction of the ore getting sucked into the wardrobe’s depths.

I frowned slightly. That’s it?

But then. The wardrobe shuddered. More ore vanished, its edges melting into the void, drawn in slowly, deliberately.

Thrymir grunted, arms crossed. “What… is this?” he muttered, his curiosity laced with the same intensity as mine.

“She has an ability that crafts armor specific to her class,” I explained, though my focus was locked onto the wardrobe, waiting, watching.

Thrymir let out a low hum. “Interesting.”

His single eye narrowed, studying the process as if memorizing every detail, his massive frame eerily still as he took it all in.

None of us moved.

We simply waited, breath held, anticipation thick in the air, ready to see what emerged next.

As Trish stepped out of the wardrobe, it vanished into her inventory in an instant. Her armor looked the same at first glance, but as she stretched her wings wide, the subtle differences became clear. Veins of Voltherium pulsed faintly beneath the surface, their silver-blue glow threading through the wings like crackling lightning. The two massive rings at her wing’s wrists, along with her bracelets, also her arsenal of chakrams, now gleamed with the same energy.

I cocked an eyebrow at the seemingly minor changes, then glanced at the pile of ore.

She had barely used a third of it.

Huh. Expected more.

I shrugged and swept the remaining ore back into my inventory, then turned to face her.

“Didn’t use as much as I thought,” I said, eyeing the subtle alterations to her armor.

Trish beamed, bouncing slightly on her heels. “Small, subtle changes visually… but huge upgrades.”

Leo’s curiosity piqued instantly. “Oh? Like what?”

She grinned, practically glowing with excitement. “For starters, my chakrams can now absorb any element they touch and infuse it into an attack for a brief moment. But…” she held up a finger, “… if I do that, the chakram has to return to my armor and go on cooldown for two minutes before I can use it again.”

Max let out a low whistle, crossing his arms. “Damn. That’s actually pretty sick. And you have, what, a dozen chakrams? That cooldown won’t even slow you down.”

She nodded eagerly. “Yeah, that one’s cool. But the real change?” Her smirk widened.

We all exchanged glances, waiting.

Then, she spread her wings again, this time, with purpose.

Her eyes locked onto mine, the teasing glint unmistakable.

Then, with a single powerful thrust, she shot into the sky.

A gust of wind kicked up dust and loose pebbles, sending a massive burst of force outward as she climbed higher, higher, higher, until she was nothing more than a silhouette against the deepening night sky.

A sharp, joyful cry rang out above us. “I can fly!”

I blinked up at her, my jaw slightly slack. Then, without thinking, my gaze flicked toward the celestial ring at my back.

I summoned my helm with a thought, feeling the weight settle firmly back into place.

The halo at my back flared to life.

And then, I launched myself upward.

The sudden acceleration hit like a shockwave, my vision blurring as I rocketed after Trish, the air ripping past my armor in a way that felt both exhilarating and slightly terrifying.

Trish giggled as I caught up, rolling midair before tucking her wings and diving toward the earth below.

I grinned and followed.

She angled her wings at the last moment, bursting forward in a clean arc, but I?

I… did not pull up in time.

I skidded across the ground on my stomach, the dirt and gravel scraping against my armor until a small hill mercifully stopped my slide.

Silence.

The others rushed toward me, Trish landing gracefully next to where I lay.

“Love?” she asked, concerned but trying not to laugh. “Are you okay?”

And then I burst out laughing.

Max and Leo immediately lost it, cackling without restraint. The others followed suit, the entire group dissolving into hysterical laughter at my expense.

I groaned, sitting up with a grunt. “Of course, you pick up flying instantly.”

Trish smirked, crossing her arms. “What can I say? I’m just naturally gifted.”

I narrowed my eyes, fighting back a chuckle. “Whatever.”

Then, I turned to Leo, rubbing my shoulder where I had landed. “Maybe you can teach me how to control this better.”

Leo chuckled, reaching out to clap a hand on my shoulder. “Yeah, I think you need a few lessons before you go crash-landing into another hill.”

“Or into a dungeon,” Max added, his voice dripping with amusement. “I mean, imagine James just crashing through the dungeon entrance, wiping out half the enemies by accident.”

The laughter intensified.

Then, Virellia’s voice chimed in, sounding far too smug.

“He might clear the dungeon that way. At least his strategy would be consistent with his flying skills.”

That sent the others over the edge, their laughter turning almost breathless as they wheeze-laughed at my expense.

I pointed toward my weapon, narrowing my eyes. “Don’t make me put you in my inventory.”

Virellia harrumphed in response.

“Might smell better in there.”

I blinked. “I… Wait. You can’t even smell.”

“No, but I imagine you smell horrendous, considering how long it’s been since you’ve bathed.”

My soul left my body.

Trish snorted, waving a hand near her nose as if to push the nonexistent stench away, her laughter joining the chorus of merciless teasing.

I sighed dramatically, letting my head fall back against the dirt.

“I hate you all,” I muttered.

Which only made them laugh harder.

Later that day, freshly cleaned up and eager to get moving, I stepped out of the hut to meet the others. The air buzzed with excitement; we were finally about to tackle our first dungeon.

Brakor and Esmara stood waiting, holding a stack of worn maps, which they handed out to each of us. As I unfolded mine, I saw five marked locations, the entrances to dungeons suitable for our level.

“As you get stronger, more will appear,” Esmara explained. “And some will disappear once you’ve outgrown them.”

I frowned slightly. “So, we can’t go back and farm old dungeons?”

Brakor shook his head. “No. Once you out level a dungeon, it’s locked to you forever.”

That was… kind of a bummer. But it is also understandable.

I was about to ask something else when I noticed the shift in everyone’s expressions. Excitement had dimmed, replaced with something far heavier.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

Leo exhaled, eyes distant. “We miss our Lepidomare.”

Trish’s jaw tightened. A single tear ran down her cheek. “I hope Nyxala’s okay… and staying strong.”

Max sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I never even got to say goodbye to Drifter.”

Brakor and Esmara exchanged a curious glance, as if watching children struggling with an obvious puzzle.

“Were you bonded with them?” Esmara asked.

The others nodded solemnly.

Brakor’s ears flicked, his expression unreadable. “So, summon them.”

Four heads snapped up instantly.

Mel’s voice hitched slightly. “Wait… what? We can do that?”

“It’s in your menu,” Esmara said matter-of-factly, as if this should have been common knowledge.

Silence.

Then, I couldn’t hold it in anymore.

A laugh slipped out before I could stop it.

Trish’s head snapped toward me, glaring daggers.

I just grinned, shooting her a look that screamed ‘That’s what you get.’

She rolled her eyes dramatically, muttering something under her breath as the others hurried a few steps away from the hut, each of them quickly navigating their menus.

A shift in the air.

A pulse of energy rippled outward.

Then, four small, glowing orbs appeared in front of each rider. They flickered, hovered for a moment… and then burst apart in shimmering light.

Their Lepidomare stood before them.

The next few moments were a blur of excited humming, relieved laughter, and tight embraces.

Max ran a hand down Drifter’s slender neck, murmuring something too quiet for me to hear. Mel threw both arms around her mount’s thick neck, squeezing it like she never planned to let go. Leo grinned as his mount nuzzled into his side, and Trish.

Trish was laughing through her tears, pressing her forehead against Nyxala’s in a silent exchange of understanding.

Then… something unexpected.

Nyxala turned toward me.

I blinked, slightly caught off guard. The massive Lepidomare stared at me, those lightning-blue and deep purple scales shimmering faintly.

Then, she sniffed me curiously.

Before I could react, she lowered her head, pressing it against my shoulder in what could only be described as a hug.

Brief. But warm and deliberate.

I hesitated, then patted her broad shoulder, feeling the subtle humming vibration beneath my palm.

She pulled back, letting out a low, soft hum.

I smiled. “I missed you too, girl.”

Nyxala let out one last huff, then turned back toward Trish, her head held high.

Trish wiped her cheek and grinned at me, eyes still shimmering.

After the excitement settled, Brakor explained something that eased our worries, if we ever traveled to another world, all they had to do was summon our Lepidomare there. They were bound to them, meaning they wouldn’t have to leave them behind permanently.

Unless, of course, we figured out a way for them to travel through space on their own. Or, heavens forbid, through a labyrinth.

That thought alone sent a shudder through the group.

We all silently agreed, the Lepidomare should never enter a labyrinth.

Dungeons, unfortunately, were another off-limits area. They simply couldn’t follow us inside, which meant they would have to wait outside whenever we entered one.

That idea didn’t sit well with any of us. The wildlife on this planet was far more dangerous than anything on Achui. Leaving them unprotected, even for a short time, felt reckless.

Esmara, however, offered a solution.

“While you’re inside the dungeon,” she said, arms crossed, “we’ll help them get stronger. That way, by the time you clear your first, they’ll be able to fend for themselves.”

The others agreed immediately.

The relief in Trish’s face was obvious. Mel let out a long exhale, while Max and Leo exchanged nods, the tension in their shoulders easing slightly.

They turned to their mounts, promising we’d be back soon. But, to our surprise, they weren’t sad or worried.

They were excited.

Their wings fluttered, their humming grew sharper, and their eyes gleamed with anticipation. It was as if they wanted to grow stronger, just as much as we did.

A smirk tugged at my lips. “Looks like they’re ready for some training of their own.”

Trish laughed softly, running a hand down Nyxala’s shimmering scales. “Yeah… I guess they are.”

With that we turned to the direction of the first dungeon and began our journey towards it.