Novel Full Chapter 1598 Wrong
Chapter 1598 Wrong
A few minutes with the ore had been enough to make it obvious that it was anything but ordinary. Every attempt at breaking it had ended in failure, forcing Atticus to step in and use the life weapon himself just to finally crush it. Even smelting had proven troublesome, to the point where he’d had to push his will to its highest temperature before the metal would even begin to melt.
Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do about the refining. That part of the process simply took time. Garvin had spent the past months doing nothing but this, and if Atticus was being honest with himself, he hadn’t expected even half of these ingots to be refined by now.
‘I doubt he even rested.’
Atticus found himself looking at Garvin differently. This wasn’t something that could be accomplished easily, and it finally explained the man’s absence during battles and major events. While others had been fighting, Garvin had been down here, day after day, relentlessly refining the metal.
“You did well… really well.”
“It’s nothing.”
Garvin shrugged it off as though he hadn’t done anything worth mentioning.
“It’s not nothing. Not many people can show this level of dedication. You’ve earned the praise.”
“…”
Garvin’s expression didn’t change, but Atticus couldn’t help frowning when he noticed the faint redness creeping up the big man’s ears.
‘Is he… blushing…?’
He wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. A man as muscular and stoic as Garvin reacting like this to a bit of praise… but he decided not to dwell on it.
“Ahem… so, how many armors can it make?”
He shifted the topic smoothly, turning his attention to the stacked ingots. As though a switch had been flipped, the redness vanished, and Garvin nodded.
“About ten.”
“And how long would that take?”
“At least three a month.”
‘That’s good.’
Atticus smiled. The ore had come with blueprints detailing how it could be used, and this had been his plan from the moment he’d received it. Weapons could wait. What they needed right now were armors, armors capable of conducting will.
With those, they could finally counter the Willguard’s terrible will negation.
After running through the possibilities in his mind, Atticus offered Garvin another word of praise before leaving the underground space.
…
“Are you sure I can’t come with you?”
“No… you can’t.”
The deep frown forming on Anorah’s face made Atticus sigh.
“As much as I want you to,” he said, pulling her closer, “I need you here.”
“The number of spirit people has been growing these past months. Even with Ozeroth freeing them from the Spirit King’s hold, we can’t afford to lower our guard.”
He still couldn’t shake off what had happened the night before. Wanting to save their people was understandable, but the spirit god’s urgency had been… strange. Still, he had taken the best measures the circumstances allowed. Every single spirit god was bound by his will, which meant betrayal should be impossible.
“Alright,” she said after a moment. “Leave it to me.”
Atticus pressed a firm kiss on her lips before saying his goodbyes and leaving the room.
He was glad he’d spent the previous night saying his goodbyes to Anastasia and the rest of the family. It spared him the trouble of having to deal with his mother’s worries now, when his mind needed to be elsewhere.
He appeared inside the portal room located within Viscount Merek’s second son’s castle, only for loud screams to crash into him the moment he arrived.
“You fucking bastard! I dare you to say that again!”
“Calm down, Ozerra! It’s not worth it!”
“Fuck! Big bro, let me go! I’m going to tear this bastard apart!”
‘What is going on?’
Atticus scanned the room instantly. Ozeroth had both arms locked around Ozerra, holding her back as she struggled violently, her blade already unsheathed and aimed squarely at Whisker with a murderous glare. Whisker, meanwhile, stood off to one corner of the room, unusually quiet. There was an anxious look plastered on his face.
“What did you do?”
Atticus appeared beside Whisker and shot him a sharp glare.
“This is what’s wrong with the world. No trust at all. Why are you assuming this is my fault?”
“Because it’s always your fault.”
“Damn…”
Whisker clutched his chest, as though he’d just taken a fatal blow.
“I hate to disappoint you this time, but I didn’t do anything.”
Atticus merely continued to stare at him. After a few seconds, Whisker’s shoulders sagged as he let out a weary sigh.
“I-I was just trying to help!”
“Help how?”
“Well…”
“Whisker.”
“Urgh. Alright, alright.”
He threw his hands up.
“I was minding my own business when they arrived. Ozerra was talking loudly, as usual, and I overheard her asking Ozeroth if her new armor looked intimidating. So… I figured I’d help.”
“And?”
“And I said yes. Very intimidating. Like a highly violent house cat.”
“…”
“…”
A moment of heavy silence settled between them.
“A house cat?”
“Yes. You know the type. Puffs up, hisses, scratches everything, and still needs to be rescued from a tree five minutes later.”
“…”
Atticus gazed at him silently. Under that gaze, Whisker coughed and scratched the back of his head.
“…Okay. Thinking about it now, that might’ve been too much. Maybe I do deserve to die, haha.”
“Sometimes, you genuinely baffle me .” “Uh… thanks?”
“That wasn’t a compliment. Apologize. Now.”
“Do I have to…?”
“…”
“Alright! Alright. I’m sorry, okay!”
“Huh?”
Ozerra finally paused her struggle as she continued glaring at Whisker.
“I didn’t mean what I said. It was a slip of, uh,will. Yes. A slip of will.”
“He’s sorry, Ozerra. And he won’t say something like that again. Right?”
“Right. Never again. Swear on my father’s life.”
Whisker gave a wide smile.
‘This bastard.’
Atticus hid his frown. Swearing on his father’s life? The man’s life goal was to kill that very same father.
“You’ll forgive him, right? Do it for me.”
“Hmph.”
Ozerra folded her arms and lifted her chin, fixing her glare squarely on Whisker.
“There’s nothing to forgive. The great Ozerra never cared about your opinion in the first place!”
“…”
“…”
“…”
‘Huh?’
Atticus exchanged confused glances with Whisker and then Ozeroth. Just seconds ago, she’d been on the verge of tearing Whisker apart, and now she was acting as though nothing had happened.
‘Ah… a pride thing.’
He cleared his throat, deciding it was best not to press the issue.
“Oh. That works then. Let’s get going.”
With the matter settled, they gathered around the large portal positioned along one side of the room.
‘They’re ready.’
Atticus let his gaze pass over each of them in turn. Ozeroth, Ozerra, and finally Whisker. These were the people he had chosen to take with him to the competition.
‘It should be enough.’
Whisker had mentioned he could bring along at least five subordinates, but someone needed to remain behind to watch the territory in their absence. Besides, taking dead weight was something Atticus had flatly refused to do.