Chapter 175: Hell Angel’s Zither

It was just as Sera had predicted. When Aiksuuri saw the huge pile of assorted meats that Ron and the others had brought as a gift, his eyes went wide.

These beasts were mostly the results of Constance’s "practice." For Ron’s party, damaging an ordinary weapon was no big deal; it was nothing a simple Repair Magic couldn’t fix, so it didn’t hinder Constance’s training progress at all.

And it was during these past few days of actual combat that Constance had not only improved her practical experience but also truly felt the limitations of her Swift Sword in the wild. The weapon was simply ineffective against large groups of enemies, leaving her feeling completely powerless.

"You wouldn’t be saying that if you had a top-quality weapon," Aiksuuri said cheerfully, leading Ron and the others into his lair, which had been expanded quite a bit. "If you feel like you can’t deal effective damage to your enemies, it just means your weapon isn’t good enough."

"Either switch to a blunt weapon or get one made from better materials."

"In that case, you must have something here..."

Before Constance could finish, she was cut off by a fierce glare from Aiksuuri.

"What are you talking about! Why would I have any? I don’t need weapons!" Aiksuuri brandished his claws. "Besides, that’s my—er, *our*—property! Even if I did have something, it’s not like you can just take it!"

"And watch your phrasing! I’m much younger than you, so don’t be so formal. I’m not that old!"

"You’ll get used to it," Aive said, patting Constance’s shoulder. "He’s always like this. Prying anything out of his hands is a real challenge."

"Besides, he probably doesn’t actually have a suitable weapon for you anyway."

"It’s true," the Black Dragon grumbled, pulling out the amethyst slate he treasured so dearly. Using both his claws and mouth, he unwrapped layer after layer of coarse burlap from it. "My master tried to trick me out of it before, but I didn’t fall for it!"

"Clever of you. We had to run around for several extra days because of it," Aive retorted. She took the Gemstones from Ron and began testing them on the slate one by one.

The ice-blue Gemstone was the first to respond. With a flash of light, a Kite Shield with an ancient and stately design appeared in Aive’s hands.

Although the shield looked quite valuable, it was made entirely from some kind of plant, reinforced with only a few metal bands. It hardly seemed like a Magic Item on par with the Weaving Introduction or the Grip of the Vast Wave.

Ron flipped open a blank page in his Spellbook. The shield’s appraisal results immediately materialized on it, and a strange look came over his face.

"Does... anyone here know of the ’Hell Angel’?"

"Sounds like the name of a ship?" Sera asked, blinking. "What does that have to do with this shield?"

These weapons had all been used by famous figures on the continent. Ron must be asking because it was related to the shield’s backstory.

The others present exchanged glances. The only one among them who had ever seen the world’s oceans was Sera—and even then, it was a sea of icebergs and perpetual blizzards.

"I’ve heard a little about it," Shadow Spirit Yelena suddenly spoke up. "One of the souls I guided to the Shadowfall Netherworld had a related memory."

"It wasn’t his own memory, though. One of his drinking buddies was a sailor, and that sailor’s old superior had been transferred to a series of ships whose names all began with ’Hell’."

"You have a pretty good memory," Silvia remarked dryly.

The Shadow Spirit shrugged. "It’s one of the few pleasures we Shadow Spirits in the Netherworld have. It’s part of the reason I came to the outside world."

"Getting back to the memory: that whole series of ’Hell’ ships were warships. They were funded and built by a Dwarf Kingdom to strike at the Hailan Empire’s slave trade routes from the sea. The largest of these vessels was nearly fifty meters long, could hold almost two hundred crew members and three to four hundred tons of cargo, was armed with numerous ballistae and Catapults, and even had siege capabilities."

"I’m guessing this shield belonged to one of the sailors from those ships. The location where the Gemstone was set seems to confirm that."

"More or less," Ron said with a nod. "You Elves certainly live long lives, being able to personally experience events from that long ago."

"But you’re wrong about one thing. This shield didn’t come from a sailor; it came from the ship itself. To be more specific, this shield is a piece of the ’Hell Angel’s’ hull."

"A Yaling shipwright from the Fairy Wilderness was involved in their construction. He animated parts of the hulls, enabling them to draw nutrients from water and sunlight and to secrete fresh sap to repair themselves when damaged."

"After the warship was sunk, the Elves salvaged some of the wreckage and reforged it. They constrained the growth of its extra vines and branches, turning it into a functional Kite Shield—which they named the ’Hell Angel’s Zither’."

"Look at the inside," Ron said, turning the shield over. A line of text was engraved in the Elf Language. "’On this day, of this month, of this year, the Hell Angel was sunk at...’ Its commemorative value is clearly greater than its practical use."

"Even so, the Elf Casters still enchanted it. When the wielder is attacked by a Dwarf, the shield emits a piercing shriek that only Dwarves can hear."

"That’s more than a little insulting," Yelena said, sticking out her tongue. "The relationship between Elves and Dwarves has never been great, but that’s just vicious."

"That’s probably why the Dwarves were one of the races that came down on them the hardest when the Hailan Empire fell," Constance sighed.

"This one’s for you, Victoria," Ron said, handing her the Kite Shield. "Now you don’t have to worry about not having a shield that suits you."

"I just hope this doesn’t offend Rurik," Victoria said, testing the shield’s grip. "It works well enough, but our dear blacksmith definitely won’t appreciate this infernal joke."

"Why do you care what he thinks?" Silvia said, annoyed. "That Dwarf complains all day about what he will or won’t forge; it’s a pain to get him to make anything. This is perfect. Unless he can forge you a better shield, why not just wave this one in his face?"

"Alright, alright. We can’t send anyone into the mines yet, so it can’t be helped that he’s idle," Ron said, cutting off Silvia’s malicious line of thought. "Aive, try the next one. I have a feeling this pink one might be the jackpot!"