Chapter 303: Chapter 294: Can you lend me a hand? You know what, I’ll take the whole arm

“You mentioned a way to stop resistances from forming?” Priam asked, leaping out of his hammock. A mist pant clothed him in an instant. On a whim, he added a dozen light runes inside the garment. Dimly powered by his aether, they appeared like stars behind a thin cloud. It looked cool, but more importantly, it allowed Priam to work on his aether control. After the battle he had just witnessed, it seemed important.

“Penetrating skills, made to hinder resistance formation,” Esmée confirmed.

“Knew it!” Priam grinned, pulling out a chair for her. Log-a-rhythm conjured a table, and he sat facing Esmée. “With all the manipulations from Eve and her clone, I figured I should’ve gained a memory resistance sooner. Have you known this for a while?”

“My family has spent generations ensuring their opponents don’t develop resistance to their probability manipulation,” she admitted.

“Interesting. So, you can build resistance without the System?”

“It’s more difficult and rarely as effective, but life finds a way…” She frowned in thought, and Priam found her expression adorable. “Take poison, for instance. All royal family children drink a little of it regularly to immunize themselves. Maybe that was a thing on your world?”

“Not exactly,” Priam chuckled, then shivered. “Though they did force me to eat endives…”

“What is that?”

“A bitter vegetable, supposedly good for your health.”

“Oh. You don’t like bitterness?”

“I prefer sweetness.” Priam smiled as Esmée blushed. “Back to resistances, taking poison to build up tolerance was a practice back in the day. Supposedly, an ancient king spent his life immunizing himself to poisons until he couldn’t even use them to take his own life when the Romans invaded his kingdom. And there’s also the story of a certain Rasputin. In a way, our vaccines confer resistance to certain diseases, and the more alcohol we drink, the less our nervous system responds to it…” The more he thought about it, the more Priam realized life didn’t need magic to protect itself. “We can develop resistances without the System, even if they’re less effective,” he admitted. “How did your family prevent their enemies from resisting?”

Esmée pointed to her temple. ““My geas prevents me from explaining their technique. However, the general method is straightforward: you have to find a flaw in the formation process. Threat detection, cell, mind, or spirit mutation, then synchronization with the soul; if something blocks one of these steps, nothing happens.”

Priam nodded thoughtfully. By simulating the enemy’s aetheric signature, his perfected version had prevented Clock from developing kinetic resistance. Thinking of other approaches, he remembered [Radiation Resistance]. Naturally, radiation disrupted aether, preventing a body’s mutant cells from synchronizing with its soul and thus forming resistance. By the same principle…

“Is it possible to reduce mutation probabilities of—” He trailed off, seeing Esmée wince in pain. He was onto something, and her geas deemed it her fault. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Despite her words, her eyes were bloodshot. Helpless to aid her, Priam asked Log-a-rhythm for a drink. The table between the two rivals opened to reveal a glass crafted by Bertomne, filled with fruit juice prepared by Blueberry. Almost feels like civilization’s within reach…

“Thanks,” Esmée smiled, taking a sip. Her eyes widened. “This is delicious.”

“Lamnas grafted a bunch of new fruit onto Log-a-rhythm.” Priam let her savor the drink before continuing. “Got any other examples of penetrating skills?”

“Thanks to our rivals, yes. Seth temporarily separates the soul from the body. Dishnu drains aether from his victims with specific plants. Eve… I theorize she forces her enemies to forget resistance at its onset. I’m not sure if she targets aether, spirit, or soul, but she is incredibly skilled.”

To slip past Priam’s adaptability with all his synergies, that fae was indeed a monster.

“There are as many methods as there are Concepts,” Priam mused, then grimaced. “Kazuki, Jasmine, and I are behind in this area.”

“Do you truly need it?” Esmée raised an eyebrow as Priam looked at her in surprise. “The skills I’m talking about are necessary for those with utility Concepts or who fight prolonged wars. Manipulating or imprisoning an enemy requires preventing rebellion or, at the very least, slowing resistance development. In your case, the worst that could happen is your opponent gaining a level or two in [Fire Resistance].”

“That could make all the difference,” Priam pointed out.

The princess laughed softly. “I forgot how much you love to optimize everything.”

“It’s served me well so far.”

“True,” she said with a smile. “I’m sure you’ll find a way to develop a penetrating skill.”

Half of Priam’s attention was already on the thought. Pyro could burn aether, and [There is no Heaven] affected the soul. These were strong candidates to hinder resistance formation.

Remembering his fight against Clock, Priam recalled that his opponent’s attacks had two parts. An initial curse disrupted his aether, preventing resistance formation, while the second part attacked. Clever. ℞ἈŊÓBƐŞ

The sound of a glass being set on the table snapped him out of his thoughts. Esmée had finished her drink while he was lost in thought. “Sorry, I was lost in thought.”

“I noticed.” Her voice was neutral, but her eyes sparkled playfully. “A gold for your thoughts?”

“You mean a nickel?”

“I meant a gold coin. Princess’ privilege.”

Priam laughed. “Well, I was wondering if Arnold uses this kind of technique.”

“The Tyrant annihilates his foes too quickly for them to develop anything. They might as well resist Death.”

“Can do.”

The princess laughed.

“All Empyreans eat like this?” Priam asked after devouring a skewer.

With practiced ease, Esmée used two telekinetic runes to slide a piece of meat along a wooden skewer, dipping it in a vanilla-colored sauce.

“Only the royal family,” she replied. “On our twelfth birthdays, we are stripped of our cutlery—they are considered tools for the commoners. Those who master aether can dine with dignity. Boys who fail use their fingers and are mocked; girls are… disowned.”

It was one of many methods designed to ensure power remained in the hands of an elite. This had never been a problem for Esmée; she had learned to eat with magic at three years old.

“Oh…” Priam set down his knife and fork. “Blueberry, another skewer, please! Wouldn’t want Esmée thinking I’m a man of the people.”

“You’re just looking for an excuse to stuff yourself,” grumbled the bear.

Priam leaned over the table and whispered, “Our cook is smart.”

Esmée chuckled as she levitated her piece of meat to her mouth. The perfectly cooked rare bite exploded with flavor, and she smiled.

“This is delicious,” she complimented the bear turning the spit nearby.

“Obviously.”

“Not only smart, but modest too,” she whispered to Priam.

Priam burst into laughter, a sound that delighted the princess. She knew his high charisma was partly to blame, but there was more to it. When he laughed, her heart skipped a beat.

“You mentioned Clock earlier. I didn’t think you’d go that far in the Colosseum,” said Priam, mimicking her telekinesis runes. He began to deftly juggle his utensils, proving himself a natural. “Not that I think you’re weak, but… duels aren’t your forte.”

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“To be honest, Clock was an easier opponent for me than Zelgius,” Esmée admitted. “I can counter a mage with my aether control, but the beastman’s greatsword nearly killed me several times. Against his final form, I left the arena. Only after conquering my Tribulations could I barely defeat him.”

The fight had been too close for the princess’s liking. However, while she wasn’t fond of direct combat, she knew it was sometimes necessary.

Priam froze. “I didn’t know you’d triggered your Tribulations.”

“I thought I mentioned it the first time I asked you to take me to your Moon.”

“Since you never brought it up again, I assumed…” Priam shrugged. “Did it go well?”

Esmée smiled. “Thanks to the advice from my other-timeline self, it was relatively simple. I almost regret not attempting a quintuple.”

“Maybe next time,” Priam joked, and she shook her head, reaching for another bite of meat.

“I don’t think so. Maybe because I manipulate probabilities, I prefer them in my favor.” Esmée only played games when her odds of winning were high. “By the way, I wanted to thank you for your help. Without the information from the erased timeline, I wouldn’t have attempted my Tribulations so soon. If there’s anything I can do…”

Priam shook his head. “You don’t remember, but you’ve already helped me. Your other self even died for it.” His eyes grew somber, and Esmée felt a need to reassure him. But how? The princess had seen nursemaids cradle babies, yet Priam was too big for that. The romantic novels she had bought from the Guardian of Secrets mentioned embracing the man, but the thought alone stirred an unexpected shyness in her. Unaware of her thoughts, Priam continued. “You owe me nothing.”

The moment passed, and Esmée focused on the conversation. A question tormented her.

“How did I… how did she die?”

“... In my arms after breaking her geas to help me.”

Esmée felt the spiritual trap tightening around her soul. It was a trick of her mind, of course, but she had to make a conscious effort to push away the fear.

“At the end, what was she like?” The question might seem strange, but the princess had fantasized about freedom her whole life. In a terrible way, death was an answer.

Priam’s misty gaze locked onto hers. “Magnificent, proud, and free.” His intensely sad eyes drifted to her lips, and Esmée understood.

In the face of death, unshackled from all constraints, her other self had chosen to follow her heart rather than her reason. I wonder if that counts as my first kiss.

Priam watched the princess disappear into the forest with a local. Before leaving, she had asked to summon a flesh sculptor, covering the cost on his behalf. After a few questions, Priam realized the mage could alter someone’s physical appearance. By his claims, he could close an enemy’s mouth and nostrils. Thinking of Osiris, Priam decided he would visit this mage sooner rather than later to gain resistance to that power.

That wasn’t the reason Esmée had summoned him, though. Her brother Aydan bore the marks of the mutated syphilis he had recently contracted, and the flesh mage might be able to help. Knowing the princess, her gift was likely poisoned. Must be exhausting, not being able to kill your enemies outright…

Priam had hesitated to offer his help to his rival, but he knew she wouldn’t accept. If he wanted to aid her, she couldn’t know about it.

“I could take care of Aydan,” Jasmine said, arriving at his side. The assassin had her arm in a sling and was limping badly, one eye blind and a fresh scar tracing across her lips. “I just woke up and took a pill to dispel the curse,” she said, noticing his gaze.

“Clock?”

“Clock.” She grimaced. “I lost.”

“You’ll win next time. As for Aydan... Not yet. Esmée implied that he communicates frequently with their father. I don’t want his death to be traced back to us and end up giving the Empyreans a reason to wage war on humanity.”

“I could stoke certain fires… Others would do the job for us.”

Priam narrowed his eyes, then nodded. “Alright, but don’t rush it. I’m debating whether to merge or upgrade [Fire Champion Physique] before forming the Energy Gate. In the meantime, if Aydan wants to raise his wyrm, I won’t stop him. Its core will make a fine trophy.”

“He takes care of it?”

“According to Esmée, he spends half of his Sun Points on it. He must really love it.”

“Bah.” Jasmine spat. “I’ve seen plenty of powerful men prefer their dogs over their wives or children. They loved the unconditional loyalty an animal gives them.”

A deep voice spoke behind them. “Those who fail to earn the respect of their subordinates often turn to beasts. They’re poor leaders, though not as bad as those who despise even animals.”

“Kazuki,” Priam smiled before noticing his friend’s condition. He was missing his left forearm. “Clock?”

“Mostly Zelgius. Clock’s first instance was fairly straightforward; my Spear Mastery cut through all its directed curses.”

“Directed?”

“His direct attacks. When it invoked curses using my name or blood, I couldn’t avoid their effects.”

“Fortunately, those weren’t that powerful.” Seeing Priam’s puzzled expression, Jasmine added, “You have no idea what we’re talking about?”

“Not really… I’m guessing [Ciphered Record] blocked that kind of attack.”

“Cheater,” she muttered.

“Winner,” Priam corrected. “You gonna be alright?” he asked, nodding to the stump where his friend’s left elbow used to be.

“I took a few overpriced elixirs; it should be healed within a few days.” Kazuki absentmindedly scratched the scar. “Sometimes, I envy your regeneration ability.”

“You could have it too.”

Kazuki and Jasmine both raised an eyebrow.

“I’m serious,” Priam said. Opening his interface, he searched for one of his earliest notifications. “[Axolotl or Hydra - Bronze] - You have regenerated your arms, legs, organs, and even your heart! Your vitality now allows you to restore any body part as long as you have the time and energy. Vitality +10%. It was one of my first titles, and it’d be useful for you both.”

His two rivals exchanged a worried glance. “Just to be clear… you want us to chop off our limbs and then blow out our organs?” Jasmine asked.

She’s so dramatic.

“Put that way, it sounds stupid.” Priam ignored his friends’ nods. “But with Hydra Pills, elixirs, and hoplite mecha’s artificial organs, you could unlock the Title. Its evolution lets me restore any limb or organ once per day, which could come in handy for you.”

“I must admit the reward is tempting,” Kazuki conceded. “But the way to achieve it…”

“No pain, no gain.”

The three friends discussed further until they devised a method to unlock [Axolotl or Hydra]. Tier 0 was known as the fundamental Tier, the prime time to unlock Titles, Talents, and skills. This might be Kazuki and Jasmine’s only shot at a Title like this, and they decided to seize it.

Priam laid the two pieces of Promesse before his father and Gallad.@@novelbin@@

“Split in two by a Duke.” Damn Zelgius. “I wanted to know if you could reforge it.”

The old man and the hoplite leaned over the weapon, examining it. Priam smiled, watching his father use a sort of magical magnifying glass to get a better look. Though his eyesight was better than any human, it hadn’t reached supernatural levels.

“A flexible blade core encased in a hard outer layer… a nearly supple metal shaft… These dimensions and forging techniques… This is a hoplite weapon,” Gallad declared.

“Kazuki’s old spear,” Priam confirmed.

The sword-master looked up briefly but didn’t comment.

“I’m out of my depth,” Alain admitted after a few minutes. “I’m an architect and a decent tinkerer, not a blacksmith. Can’t you summon one like you did with Lamnas or Bertomne?”

Priam grimaced. “I can, but of the six currently available, none are suitable. Esmée scried them, and they're all problematic.” The princess had assured him that with the destruction of new tribes, more candidates would be available soon, but Priam wanted his spear ready before his Tribulations. Since he planned to initiate them within a week, time was tight. “There’s someone among the Gaeserts, but it’s not yet time to meet their tribes.”

His father nodded, then fell silent, letting the hoplite finish his inspection.

“I should be able to restore it,” Gallad announced after a few minutes. “I’m an engineer, not a blacksmith, but our mechas are equipped for emergency repairs, and I have documentation.”

Priam ran a hand over his weapon, smiling. Though it wasn’t his trump card, he missed its presence.

“Is reforging it possible? My enemies won’t be getting any weaker, and I’m worried it’ll just break again.”

It was time to upgrade his bound weapon. Its Bronze quality was becoming a liability.

Gallad furrowed his brow, looking at the spear. “It’s far from simple. First, we would need to heat it to a very high temperature, and its coppery sheen makes me think of a phoenix. I assume its flame resistance is significant?”

“Very, but I can help,” Priam promised. “With Pyro, it should be easy to melt down.”

Gallad turned to Alain. “Even so, we lack a crucible, a bloomery, and…”

The two scientists launched into a technical debate, periodically turning to Priam for input. Without a powerful, modern industry behind them, the task was complicated, but the young man reassured them. By using runes during the various forging stages, they could bypass many issues.

Gallad eventually nodded, a glint of determination in his eye. “I can’t make any promises, but I see a way forward. However, improving it hinges on one critical factor: we need an alloy superior to the current weapon’s…”

Grinning, Priam opened a portal to the Concept Archipelago, reaching through to pull out a heavy sack, which he dropped onto the ground with a thud.

“Already covered! With my resistances and constitution, my bones are incredibly tough, and the same goes for Kazuki. Did you know his Titan bloodline made his bones metallic? So, I found the perfect excuse to get him to, uh, part with a few limbs. With such impressive materials, I’m sure we can upgrade Promesse to Silver or Gold rank!”

Alain and Gallad stared at him in astonishment before looking back at the bag. Once the initial shock wore off, they both leaped back in unison.

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