As the sun was setting late in the evening, Aslan left the workshop, wearing an unnamed armor.
The armor had a unique form.
Even Aslan, who didn’t have extensive knowledge of armors, could tell that this one was special.
It was made by connecting countless scales, but it didn’t feel like they were simply glued together.
Rather, it resembled some plate armors which are pieced together, having an organic and scale-dependent structure.
This essentially meant that its defense relied entirely on the scales.
However, strangely enough, it didn’t seem flimsy. Though it might not provide extraordinary defense against piercing attacks, such issues could be resolved with Steamfalos’ wings.
Over this armor, Aslan wore a mantle woven from bronze-colored metallic feathers, which concealed the dark scales beneath. As he brushed his fingers along the texture of the mantle, Aslan felt as if he had become some kind of metallic being.
The number of feathers comprising the mantle had drastically decreased compared to before, though it still reached down to his hips.
On his back hung the Stormblade taken from Boren, and at his waist rested the Blade of Sustenance. Over his body was the mantle of Steamfalos and the armor crafted from the Dragon King’s scales.
Most of his equipment had been destroyed, and this was all he could salvage.
But Aslan didn’t feel regretful about it.
Being overly attached to weapons wouldn’t lead to victory, and all his gear had served him faithfully before breaking.
The enemy was too powerful to dwell on equipment.
Use what tools you can. That was Aslan’s principle.
To Aslan, this new armor made from the Dragon King’s scales was quite an unexpected windfall.
Clack.
Aslan gently clenched his right hand and felt the scales brushing past. Despite the sound of the scales moving, there wasn’t a single scratch on the full armor.
His fingers moved smoothly, almost as if he were bare-handed. There was no sensation of discomfort or hindrance.
It was as if he had grown another layer of skin, a comforting feeling. Considering that Belus Alphen’s metallurgy was renowned worldwide and that this was indeed the skin of the Dragon King, it all made sense.
Perhaps he could also prepare equipment for his companions. The thought crossed his mind.
Give Angie sturdy shoes and clothes, Ereta a strong suit of armor, and perhaps Tiamat plenty of arrows—this would likely suffice.
Phey, who used their blade efficiently without waste, probably wouldn’t need extra clothing or blades, but Aslan was confident he could think of something Phey would like.
While deep in thought, Aslan noticed a figure leaning against the corridor, silently watching him.
A girl with vivid golden eyes, despite the shadow creeping around her.
Angie, the herald of the Ancient Deity, Angela Tail, was waiting for Aslan in the corridor.
Though her expression was hidden in the shadows, her eyes were fixed on Aslan without blinking.
Aslan realized that Angie must have had that dream—the one where the Ancient Deities asked for the Throne of the Gods, Kehil, to be found so they could gather all their power and save the world.
Indeed, judging by Angie’s prolonged, silent gaze, she stepped out from the shadows and approached Aslan.
Standing before Aslan, Angie hesitated, then slightly lifted Steamfalos’ wing to touch the armor underneath.
Her touch on the scales was somewhat rough, yet the armor remained steadfast, undisturbed.
After sliding her hand across the scales, Angie looked up.
Her mouth opened occasionally, closing again each time, accompanied by a furrowed brow. Aslan understood the situation: actions were easy, but words were difficult.
Angie acted first and thought later, leading her to fumble with her words after already touching the armor.
Aslan smiled softly, allowing her to continue touching his armor without resistance.
After feeling the armor for a while, Angie moved her hand to grasp Aslan’s. His left hand, exposed without a glove under the mantle, was warm and calloused.
Without saying a word, Angie massaged his hand before finally speaking, gripping his index finger.
“Your armor is cool.”
Aslan chuckled lightly.
“That’s all?”
“Hmm, whatever.”
Angie showed a slightly annoyed expression, blushing as she looked up at Aslan.
Aslan tilted his head slightly as he met her gaze. Taking this silence as a cue, Angie sighed and grabbed both of Aslan’s hands with hers.
Thoughts seemed to flow calmly beneath her downcast eyes as she tried to organize her words.
“Hey, uh….”
“Yeah?”
Letting go of his hands, she sighed deeply and looked up, her head slightly lowered but her eyes raised, giving the impression of looking up at him.
“Can you come with me? There’s somewhere I want to go… It doesn’t really mean much if I go alone.”
Aslan thought this was rather convenient since they needed to discuss the dream related to the story and the next main quest anyway.
Just as he was about to agree, Angie hastily added, with a somewhat embarrassed look,
“But, don’t get the wrong idea! I’m just asking you to come along; I’m not expecting anything weird, okay?”
Aslan momentarily froze at her unexpected statement before smiling.
Recalling how Ereta had once offered him a knee pillow, Angie seemed particularly reactive in these situations, making her amusing to tease.
“What do you mean by ‘weird’ things?”
Her reaction was immediate. Her face turned bright red as she shut her eyes tightly and shouted.
“Ugh, you too? I’m serious, I’ll get mad!”
Considering her transcendent strength, her ability to control her force when lightly punching Aslan’s stomach was impressive.
As her flushed face threatened to explode, Aslan quickly moved, catching her wrist with a sly smile. In response, Angie emitted a small grunt and clamped her mouth shut.
“Alright, alright. I’ll come with you. Where do you want to go?”
Only then did the girl calm down slightly, rubbing her reddened face before answering.
“The tail quadrant.”
*
Aslan and Angie headed toward the tail quadrant. Like other sections, the tail quadrant was located beneath the area indicated by its name.
Thus, the tail quadrant was practically outside the city.
Though technically within the walls, its conditions and environment were worse than even the adjacent torso quadrant.
In such a tail quadrant, there existed factions.
These factions were easily noticeable unless one was either foolish or completely ignorant of the culture of the slums.
The factions were divided by the regions of the tail.
From the parts closest to the torso to the very end, various factions fought each other over their shared poverty.
The same punishment system that exacerbated their plight encouraged these conflicts.
While severe punishments awaited those committing crimes against the outside world, internal crimes were largely overlooked.
As a result, faction wars and disputes were common.
This was where Angie had grown up.
Though it was better than areas ruled by priests or Olpasbet in terms of avoiding starvation, it couldn’t be considered a place where humans lived properly.
Aslan witnessed this reality firsthand as they walked.
Starving citizens glared at Aslan and Angie with eyes filled with malice. Others gathered around small campfires, sharing the little warmth they could find.
By Geladridion’s standards, this was among the upper class due to the lack of imminent death, but they appeared unsatisfied.
There were times when people joined external mercenary groups and left the city, and other times when internal bandit gangs formed and raided within the Count Scherlukunde’s territory.
Thus, the internal security wasn’t good either.
The subtle gazes directed at them were dark and murky, revealing the grim circumstances. Among these gazes, Angie could sense greed aimed at Aslan’s weapons and equipment.
The girl glanced around with her own desires, noticing the heavy decay characteristic of slums. Amidst this decay, Angie and Aslan stood out.
Angie’s thoughts were complicated.
She wasn’t originally a knowledgeable person.
Yet, a great responsibility had suddenly been thrust upon her.
To save the world, to change it.
Even more bizarrely, someone from another world had come and chosen her to guide and protect.
And recently, she had had that dream.
It was too strange to dismiss as just a dream.
Within that strange dream, Angie had learned of the responsibility given to her, a responsibility fitting the power to change the world.
And that responsibility was incredibly heavy.
She was young and hadn’t even seen half the world.
For someone like her, being chosen as the herald of the Ancient Deity was an enormous burden.
She had briefly considered misusing this power.
Why bother with responsibilities or obligations? She could run away or use it for herself.
She hadn’t never thought about it. After all, Angie was already stronger than most humans, and she would only grow stronger in the future.
But she couldn’t abandon it and run away.
Because she had a premonition that Aslan’s words would haunt her forever.
When questioned why she did such things, Aslan replied that he believed it was right.
When asked why he fought, he answered because he could.
Though she didn’t fully understand his reasoning, Angie grasped a few things.
Aslan was special, and she wasn’t.
Angela Tail, the girl, had become special solely because of the power she possessed.
Truly special were those who faced the world without bending, even without any special powers.
She hadn’t been born with that kind of special quality.
Anyone in the Tail family could have been granted this power. If that had happened, Angie would have remained a prisoner in Olpasbet.
She had to become special.
Since she had been chosen and given this power, she had to become a person worthy of it.
Seeing the impoverished citizens everywhere, Angie silently recalled her past.
She had lived like an animal, surviving without morality or principles.
That life had to change.
Thinking this, she led the way, drawing courage and inspiration from Aslan’s presence behind her.
Change was necessary.
With this thought in mind, she tightened her mantle and looked ahead. Beyond her cold, golden eyes, there were over twenty impoverished citizens.
The reason Angie stopped walking silently was related to this.
The group of impoverished citizens blocking her path carried weapons, and their faces were familiar.
“Long time no see, Angie.”
The most familiar face among them spoke. Angie exhaled deeply and glanced back at Aslan.
Aslan watched Angie and the man expressionlessly, then smiled faintly. Angie, seeing this, looked forward again.
The crimson-haired, green-eyed man with a tall stature was well-known to Angie.
“Long time no see, Father.”
