David noticed a stark improvent in his ability to perceive and absorb crimson motes. His proficiency advanced even more under the Law of Blood's passive and active influence. The glowing letters etched onto the Source pulsed consistently, permanently enhancing his abilities.
Despite his newfound prowess, questions about the Law of Blood still gnawed at his mind. What exactly was a Law in the first place? And what was the nature of the Words of Power? He didn't understand what he was saying when he invoked them. Instead, he relied on instinct, willing the Law of Blood to act while reciting the Words of Power he barely comprehended.
Perhaps he needed to pay closer attention to the Words of Power in the future. Unraveling their secrets might help him increase the Law of Blood's rank and grading. And that was non-negotiable.
David's idea of replenishing Blood mid-combat rested on mastering the Law of Blood. He was confident it could manifest the crimson motes within corpses—just like the Alpha Fang's racial trait. Replicating that ability would grant him a trendous edge against stronger foes. His chances of surviving powerful blows and injuring mighty enemies would increase drastically.
Even if replenishing Blood mid-combat proved challenging, David could still use crimson motes as a replacent for Blood. While Blood was easier to wield—far less aggressive and more malleable—Essence, or crimson motes, was far more potent when left untouched.
However, none of this truly mattered until he could replicate the Alpha Fang's racial trait. He tempered his optimism with realistic expectations. After a full night of tireless work, he didn't anticipate rapid progress.
Exhausted, his Source strained, David could barely muster the strength to store one Kobold carcass in his spatial necklace before collapsing onto the bed. The first rays of sunlight filtered through the window as he finally surrendered to sleep.
When his eyes shot open, the ntal exhaustion was gone. Only a few hours had passed—the sun was still far from its zenith—but David felt rejuvenated.
Is that what the Body stat's doing? If it is...what else changed?
He perked up at the thought of spending several sleepless nights exploring the Law of Blood, crimson motes, and Blood's properties. Feeling good, he rose and started with so simple stretches. He followed up with a standard workout session and, once finished, retreated to the bathroom, drenched in sweat.
Returning to his room with a towel draped around his waist, David dried his body. His short, damp hair barely needed attention. After putting on clean clothes, he left the inn. His feet carried him straight to the market square, where he spotted a familiar face among the bustling crowd. It was the elven rchant, Elion.
David approached the rchant, who was in the middle of addressing a small group of listeners. Elion's voice rang out confidently—a stark contrast to the downtrodden figure David had t during Arc's struggle for survival.
"Everyone knows my generosity ensured Arc's survival," rchant Elion proclaid, puffing out his chest and baring his white teeth. "If not for my act of—"
Elion's words faltered as his eyes t David's. His lips parted, but no sound followed. David smirked, watching the rchant's confident facade crumble. His gaze shifted to Elion's audience: dwarves, elves, and other young-looking residents of Arc. Their curious eyes remained fixed on the rchant, whose expression turned to panic. Elion staggered back, barely keeping his balance atop the wooden log he stood on.
"How much is a Fragnt of Blood?" David asked as he approached the small stall.
For a mont, Elion stared blankly. Only after David cleared his throat did he regain his composure.
"S-sorry?"
"I want a Fragnt of Blood," David repeated flatly.
"Of course, sir." Elion spun around, rummaging through his wares before producing the item. He placed it on the small table between them, forcing a smile. "That would be 20 Bronze slates, sir."
"10," David said curtly. He watched Elion's expression shift nervously. A simple glance at the group of listeners seed to tip the scales.
"Of course!" Elion exclaid, his expression shifting again as he mustered his best fake smile. He clasped his hands together, declaring, "Our savior deserves a special discount. My goods and your power protected Arc. We are Arc's Saviors!"
David suppressed the urge to roll his eyes as he handed over 10 Bronze slates. He couldn't help but think Elion's pleading eyes made him look irritatingly punchable.
"Do you have so sort of energy storage device that stores all types of energy? Or do you know where I can find one?"
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David noticed the slight slump in Elion's shoulders, as though he wished he would leave. But David wasn't going anywhere yet.
"A universal energy storage? Those are hard to co by," Elion replied, tilting his head thoughtfully. "You could ask Arc's Artificer. He might customize a device that can store two or three types of energy—provided they're not too unique."
"Can he create sothing capable of storing Essences?"
Elion's eyes widened slightly—a reaction he failed to hide from the observant crowd. "An Essence storage? That's...going to be difficult. I don't think you'll find one in Arc. Probably not even in their Vault. Not anyti soon, at least."
"Okay," David said, nodding toward the rchant. The corner of his lip tugged upward. "See you, fellow savior."
He turned around and left, though he was certain the rchant was fuming.
David recalled rumors about a rchant being praised and rewarded for his generosity during Arc's lowest point. lach had even ntioned the authorities granting special benefits to one rchant, though David hadn't confird the details. What those benefits were, David didn't know. However, he was certain rchant Elion was the one who'd received them.
He was also sure Elion had never ntioned who had given him the idea and convinced him to stay.
But that was fine. David was already overwheld with the attention he'd received from clearing the Demon Rift. Even now, eyes lingered on him, and hushed voices reached his ears. At least nobody approached him asking for a signature—or anything else equally annoying.
He looked down at his hand and the crimson crystal within it. Was that the solution he sought? Probably not. The Fragnt of Blood contained sothing similar to his Source's Blood, but it was different nonetheless—more aggressive. Putting that notion aside, the Fragnt of Blood might help him learn more about the Alpha Fang's racial trait and how to replicate it. At least, that was what David was hoping for.
In the worst case, the Fragnt of Blood could serve as a power-up if he had to fight a powerful monster or another Horde.
David grumbled inwardly. A storage would have been great. The dinsion stone had an energy reservoir capable of storing Blood, but it was small and actively drained by the spatial necklace. That didn't fit his demands.
For the next half hour, David was busy talking to other rchants, inspecting their wares, and visiting the Familia to ask them about energy storages. Everyone spun a similar story: they didn't have the type of energy storage he needed, and only the Artificer might be capable of creating one.
That was how David ended up in the watchtower, trying to find the Artificer for a good hour. He found her working on the Aether panels atop the watchtower and was forced to lend her a hand—she was a bit feisty—until he could voice his request.
"What do you want, kid?" The Artificer looked like a Tirac of interdiate age, with violet scales and obsidian eyes. David barely noted her striking appearance, his focus on her reaction to his Relic. Her eyes were glued to Deryadus' Arm.
"Can you create a universal energy storage? Or an Essence storage if a universal storage is too difficult?"
The Artificer frowned at his words and looked at him for the first ti. She rubbed the oil—or whatever it was—sared all over her face, her scales clattering audibly.
"Too difficult? Nothing is too difficult for !" she snarled. "But I doubt you can afford my services, let alone the materials required to create a suitable Essence storage or universal energy storage. Both are highly unique storages. Even a small one would cost a fortune and would hardly be of use to you once you have the ans to pay."
David's lips parted, ready to retaliate, but the Tirac Artificer waved dismissively. "Don't even think about it. I'm telling you, it's too expensive! Or can you afford a few dozen houses in Arc? Because that's how much you'd have to pay for a small energy storage."
That sounded excessive to David. His brows scrunched deeply, but the Artificer rely shrugged.
"How small is the small energy storage?" His last ray of hope threatened to give in to the darkness of her answer as her lips parted. "The size of a Mage's Mana Core with a Middle Interdiate Soul, I'd say."
That wasn't great, but it was better than what he'd feared.
"Do you think energy storage configured for a single energy type would be a lot cheaper to create?" The answer was most definitely yes, but David felt the need to ask.
"Of course. Isn't that obvious? A universal energy storage is a hell of a lot of work. The sa applies to the Essence storage, obviously," she snorted, disdain clear in her eyes.
"In that case, can you create a Blood storage?"
The Artificer's disdain eased, replaced by confusion. "Like the blood running through our veins? Why would you need that? Are you a Vampire?"
"No," David dismissed her words with a wave and conjured a small swirling orb of Blood in his hand. "I an this. That's Blood. The energy I use."
The Artificer jumped to her feet and approached him with swift strides. Her eyes widened first, then narrowed into tiny slits.
"You use that to supply and activate your Skill Runes?" Her eyes stayed fixed on the swirling Blood. "Blood…Blood…I've never heard of an energy type like that."
"Tell everything about it." She finally looked up, her scales clattering louder than before, but her eyes drifted to his Relic and the spatial necklace monts later. "About you."
"That might take a while," David said with a small smile. "And it will cost you sothing."
She frowned, but his smile widened. He enjoyed her reaction. "A discount. A nice one."
A groan escaped her lips, yet she nodded. She put her tools aside and sat down.
"Fine, but your story better be worth it!"
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