Chapter 395: Enchantment

Rurik was overjoyed to see Ron and the others return, and without a word, he ushered them straight to his smithy. During the rebuilding of New Green Swamp Town, Ron had wanted to place his smithy and Jilannis’s lab together to form a sort of industrial park. However, since the Dwarves and Elves couldn’t stand the sight of each other, the plan ultimately came to nothing. Instead, Rurik’s smithy ended up moving diagonally across from the Gagawaah Tavern.

It turned out to be a win-win situation: the Kobolds gained a loyal patron, while Rurik could pop over for a drink to quench his thirst at any time. To Dwarf craftsmen, ale was just as important as the anvil and hammer.

As Ron entered the dwarven workshop, his gaze was immediately captured by an exquisitely crafted piece of Chest Armor on a rack directly opposite the entrance. A lifelike, embossed lion adorned its front, seeming to issue a final warning to the wearer’s opponent. On the side of the armor, Ron spotted the Holy Emblem of Tyr.

“That’s custom-made for that young lad, Andre,” Rurik said, clearly proud of his creation. He tapped the Chest Armor with a finger, producing a clear, ringing sound. “He’s on patrol duty for the next couple of days, but he can come and get it when he returns.”

Aive sized up the Chest Armor. “This doesn’t look like your typical dwarven style, does it?” she asked curiously.

“Of course. I modeled it after the style of his sword. Heard you all bought it for him as a gift in Rose City?” The Dwarf Blacksmith grinned from beneath his beard. “Rest assured, I struck the perfect balance between aesthetics and practicality—a Paladin tasked with keeping us safe deserves a set of armor like this.”

“Alright, alright, never mind Andre,” the Half-Elf Warrior cut the dwarf short. “What about mine? Where’s my armor?”

“Oh, of course. Right this way.”

Rurik led everyone to the back. A suit of White Armor, unpainted and revealing the natural luster of the metal, stood there silently. Unlike the armor Aive had “bought” before, this suit, forged by Rurik himself, was a complete set with a helmet and iron boots, making it impossible to see the wearer from the outside.

The helmet of this Full Body Armor was designed to enclose the neck, providing the face with a double layer of defense and ensuring no sword blade or spear fragment could find its way to the wearer’s throat. Below the neck, the Left and Right Shoulder Armor were markedly asymmetrical; the left pauldron was large to increase the defensive surface when holding a shield, while the smaller right pauldron guaranteed flexibility for wielding a weapon. Around the waist was a Chain Armor Skirt to protect the abdomen and groin, along with two tassets connected by four leather straps to cover the gap between the thighs and torso.

“Armed Bodysuit, Chain Armor Skirt, Chain Armor, Chest Plate, and Abdominal Armor—five layers of protection in total. It’s enough to make you completely impregnable from the front,” Rurik explained. “I also took the measurements of your Flaming Hand Armor to ensure a seamless fit. It won’t give the enemy a single millimeter to exploit!”

“Now that’s a tin can!” Delaford exclaimed, smacking his lips as he moved closer to stroke the armor. “Look at these shoulder pieces, and the joints! I bet you couldn’t even get water inside if you tried to splash it!”

“Rurik, can you make me a suit like this?”

“What would you want that for?” Sera asked, amused. “You just called it a tin can. It’d be incredibly stuffy to wear, even more stifling than the set she uses now!”

“If I weren’t feeling stifled, you’d all be the ones breathing your last,” the Half-Elf huffed, starting to remove her gear to try on the new set. “If it weren’t for this ‘tin can,’ who knows how many more Healing Potions Ron would have to make!”

The Full Body Armor looked cumbersome, and it was just as difficult to put on as it appeared. Even with Rurik’s help, it took Aive nearly five minutes to get into it. Had she done it by herself, the process would have surely taken even longer.

“Well?” Rurik asked, a mix of nerves and excitement in his voice. “Does anything not feel right? Too tight? Too loose?”

He knew very little about Magic and couldn’t craft armor that would magically conform to any wearer. This suit of Full Body Armor was tailored specifically for Aive; it would be nearly impossible for anyone else to wear.

“A perfect fit,” Aive said, lifting her Hand Armor to flip up her visor. Her voice sounded muffled from behind the metal, as if coming through a wall. “You know, it feels even a little lighter than the Chest Armor I used to wear?”

“That’s to be expected. The weight of Full Body Armor is distributed across your entire body, so it’ll feel more comfortable than a Chest Armor and Chain Armor,” the dwarf said, stroking his beard. “Besides, this is genuine Mithril-grade armor, so it’s lighter than other pieces of the same specifications.”

As he spoke, Rurik brought out a tower shield. “Right, right, try this too! It’s made of the same material as the armor. I’ve altered the dimensions a bit to make it compatible with your new suit.”

The tower shield was curved when viewed from above, with a roughly rectangular front. Unlike the unadorned Full Body Armor, Rurik had etched a pattern onto its face that radiated outward from the center, giving the shield a powerful, dynamic appearance.

Something suddenly clicked in Ron’s mind. As he looked at the patterns, an Arcane Model he had long since set aside resurfaced in his thoughts. With a flick of his wrist, the Engraving Knife from Old Feibo appeared in his palm.

“Aive, would you mind if I ‘add a little something extra’ to this shield?”

Elsewhere, Jilannis, who was still chatting with Anastina, suddenly looked up. Her gaze fixed on Rurik’s workshop for a moment before she quickly retracted it.

‘What a familiar Arcane Model…’

“What was that?” Anastina asked, pausing for a second.

“It’s nothing,” the Elf Grand Mage said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “It must’ve just been my imagination. It’s common for Casters to have similar ideas, so it’s not unusual for their models to resemble one another.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” the Elf Mercenary said with a shrug, quickly dismissing Jilannis’s odd reaction. “Anyway, go on! You were roped into becoming a researcher by that Chief Grand Mage—what happened after that?”

The two Elves resumed their trip down memory lane, but Ron had no time to get lost in the past. Beads of sweat rolled down his temples as the Engraving Knife in his hand sliced into the tower shield’s Mithril alloy as if it were water, leaving behind a web of grooves of varying depths and shapes.

As his wrist and fingers danced across the surface, Aive was astonished to feel the Flaming Hand Armor on her own hands begin to react, a warmth slowly spreading through them.