190: Chapter 27: The eting 190: Chapter 27: The eting Enhancing an Angel Envoy’s five-dinsional attributes is a simple matter.
It’s nothing more than a thought away.
But behind this thought lies the consumption of extraordinary resources.
Quality steel should be used on the blade’s edge.
Roman had, so far, only enhanced the abilities of about a dozen Angel Envoys.
For example, Dick, Jet, Aaron, Green, Kao, Nathan, Ruto, Vic, Dota, Yaki, Lax, and others.
Let’s not ntion the enhancent of skills for now.
Let’s talk about the enhancents on the attribute panel.
Enhancing attributes does not equate to an instantaneous surge in physical strength, but rather it’s like entering an alternative developntal phase.
This stage will last for a while, bringing their body attributes up to the level shown on the panel.
Of course, this period is not fixed.
It depends on the Angel Envoy’s talent and age.
Aaron, Green, Nathan, and Jet perford the best.
At the peak of their physical condition, it took only about ten days to half a month to et the standards.
Kao and Dick were next.
Because Kao was too young and underdeveloped, and Dick was too old with declining physical functions, their upgrade speed was slower.
If they couldn’t adapt, it would result in the invisible waste of many resources.
Roman could elevate an Angel Envoy’s attribute from E-tier to D-tier, but there’s a saying for that, involving one big step and two small ones.
It’s an achievent that one enhancent can accomplish.
That is E→E →D-→D.
But to go from E- to D involves one big step and four small ones.
Theoretically, this is also sothing one enhancent could achieve.
But an Angel Envoy with low attributes couldn’t improve so many steps in a short ti.
Simply put, an Angel Envoy with only E- attributes either is a child or has poor fundantals.
And the improvent of attributes often cannot be separated from real-world physical developnt and environnt.
So, it’s more likely that they might not be able to reach D-tier and could stop at E .
Then Roman could perform a second enhancent on them, and only when the ti was right could they raise a certain attribute to D-tier.
Roman had speculated that to enhance an Angel Envoy whose attributes were all at E-tier up to D-tier,
he would need 500 grams of Fine Gold, 1000 grams of Mithril, 4000 grams of Mountain Bronze, 2000 grams of Magic Stone, and 100 Jin of Magic Steel.
If he reduced the spending on one of these resources, it would lead to a significant increase in consumption of another.
This was just the cost of ascending from E-tier to D-tier.
Once lifted to C-tier, the consumption of these resources would increase several tis over.
He couldn’t bear to pay such a price and not reach expectations.
What would be the best choice then?
By exercising to enhance attributes from E-tier to E , Roman could help them break through the bottleneck from E to D-tier.
If they were dedicated and talented enough, they might even touch the threshold of D-tier.
Once two attributes reached D-tier, they would possess the strength of a First Rank Knight.
With three attributes at D-tier, they would equal a Second Rank Knight.
If all five were D-tier, or one of them reached C-tier, then they would be Third Rank Knights.
But, this ti the Witch was rather special, and Roman did not know how to proceed.
Gwivelle was already sowhat unstable; what if she lost control after the enhancent—who would be responsible then?
A house could be rebuilt if lost, a person could be compensated for if deceased, but Gwivelle could not afford an accident.
Sanna was a better choice.
But she had been a Witch for such a short ti; Gwivelle, at least, had been accompanied by her “Power of Misfortune” for a while, and Sanna had not fully adapted to the changes in her body.
Now both were at the stage of laying foundations, and it was even less convenient for Roman to upgrade them.
Still, that saying holds true—even if they were upgraded, how they would adapt was a problem, and Roman had no intention of making a losing bargain.
After dispatching more people, the output of the mine vein indeed improved, but it still fell short of Roman’s strategic grand vision.
It would take ti.
He waited patiently, biding his ti…
…
Dragon Castle.
One of the visiting groups was like a pale blue tide.
Wave upon wave surged in, as if the sea overflowed across the land.
It was the color emanated by the armor of the exclusive army of the Fury Grand Duke—the Surging Wave Knights.
They numbered in the hundreds, each clad in sturdy armor and wielding sharp weapons, representing the most elite military force of this land.
The armor, specially made and colorless at first, deepened to an indigo blue the longer it was worn.
It had an extraordinary attribute, renowned for its lightness, and it was said to possess a unique buoyancy on land that counteracted so of the weight.
Thus, they moved swiftly, without delay.
If the visitor had been the adopted son, Pine, then the Riptide Duke would not have needed to greet him personally.
But now, it was the Fury Grand Duke who had co, bringing his vassals, knights, and other nobles to discuss state affairs with the Riptide Duke.
Accompanying them was the Gael County Duke.
The eting between the two Dukes was extrely formal.
So, his large tent was carried to the courtyard where his vision, sowhat blurred, recognized the distinctive hairstyle of the Fury family imdiately.
The seaweed-like blue locks, thick and vibrant, draped beneath a white cape, were particularly eye-catching.
“Pine!
Pine!” he called out, straining his voice.
The figure with the blue seaweed hair quickly approached,
and within ten steps, he realized it was not Pine but Makor.
The father and son shared the sa ssy blue hair, much like the distinctive red eyes of the Riptide family, strongly hereditary in nature.
He had mistaken one for the other.
He felt an inexplicable sadness.
What was wrong with his eyes?
Pine was taller, more strapping, and more robust than Makor, a whole size larger.
And yet, he could confuse the two.
“The Grand Duke, my father, is catching up with Lord Gael,” Makor said softly.
His sight might have deteriorated, but his hearing remained sharp.
“Let him co see after reminiscing,” he replied, his interest waning and no longer patient to wait.
He waved for the servants to lift the tent and return to the hall, feeling increasingly useless with age.
When the assembly filed in, he strained to distinguish between Pine and Gael.
“You two haven’t been quarreling, have you?” he asked, unsure why he had said that.
The courtiers were taken aback.
Pine was a man with a more weathered look than Makor, his bluish stubble like tangled, twisting seaweed; his eyes were deep and intense, his face rugged, as if he could take one’s breath away.
Since becoming the Fury Grand Duke, he had maintained a serious deanor, always mindful of the Fury family motto “Silent as the Tides.”
“No,” Pine replied, his voice like a sea breeze, lodious yet filled with the weight of ages, “we have grown up.”
“How could I dare oppose the Fury Grand Duke,” Gael said in a light, self-mocking tone.
“You see, this is what quarreling looks like,” the Duke said.
Gael offered a wry smile, “Father, I’m not a child anymore.”
“Our Duke’s heart remains young; he just mistook for Father from the past,” Makor interjected, “If it wasn’t for the Surging Wave Knights behind staring down, I might have just played along and curled up in the Duke’s arms to act like a spoilt child, calling out ‘Daddy’ a few tis, either for my old man or for my fiancée!
Here’s to you, Dad!” He raised his cup.
He was unaccustod to joking, but his words now, delivered with precision, added a codic touch.
The courtiers burst into laughter, lighting up the warm atmosphere of the banquet.
The Riptide Duke wore a kindly expression, but hidden beneath his eyes were shadows of lancholy and sadness.
He smiled and drained the wine in his cup in one gulp.
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