Absolute Craft

Chapter 19: One Horned Demon (2)

After reviewing Beatrix's stats and equipment, Blake realized he had never actually examined Sol's stats. The little creature had appeared at such an unexpected time, yet Sol didn't seem troubled by the earlier oversight. He seemed delighted by Blake's strength and had even assisted him in battle. All of this made him one genuinely happy golden apple.

Never in his entire gaming career had Blake encountered anyone with infinite health and mana. It seemed impossibly overpowered, and he couldn't help but focus on the tiny presence perched atop his helmet, radiating warmth and light. Those infinite stats stemmed from Sol's title. Its rank fascinated Blake, who had always assumed "legendary" to be the highest tier. Yet here was a universe-grade title bestowing Sol with infinite vitality.

It seemed Sol could not die.

His skill, Sunshine, felt underwhelming by comparison—merely granting unending light and warmth to him and those Sol cherished. Still, it could prove useful, especially in the winter tutorial zone where Blake would soon venture. Compared to that universe-grade title, however, Sunshine paled significantly.

Blake, however, recalled how happy his little apple had been to dispel the darkness and smiled at the memory. That moment was so endearing that he set aside any doubts about Sunshine's overall strength. He would gladly welcome Sunshine as part of his team.

"You're our little torch, aren't you?" he said, raising his hand to gently poke his elemental.

As their bond grew, Sol happily wriggled atop Blake's head, his eyes shining brighter than ever. While Sol basked in his contentment, Blake glanced over his shoulder at his familiar.

Beatrix lingered behind him, standing quietly in his shadow and watching his interaction with Sol. She inclined her head slightly to meet his gaze.

"Can you talk?" he asked.

Beatrix shook her head.

"I see. Your intellect remains intact, but your former abilities must be sealed, likely because I'm only level one—and so are you. We'll need time to unlock them. Welcome to the team, Beatrix. I trust you'll keep up with me to the end, and I look forward to having you at my side and witnessing your achievements."

Blake extended his hand. His familiar shook it, then saluted before melting into his shadow as though it were ink-black water. She had demonstrated a new skill, different from what she possessed under the previous Lost King. Perhaps she simply disliked bright illumination in her new form. Her armor was dark, and it appeared she had inherited shadow- or darkness-based abilities, so a distaste for intense radiance wasn't surprising.

Once she vanished into his shadow, Blake murmured, "My familiar and elemental are polar opposites… Well, Vargar, shall we look for the first piece of the crown?"

"Ye," agreed Vargar, stroking his beard.

With Sol perched on Blake's helmet, the trio continued toward the source of the golden glow radiating through the hall. Their shadows stretched out behind them, but only one contained a pair of emerald eyes that watched for a moment before closing again.

The light ahead was so bright that Blake and Vargar narrowed their eyes as they neared the next chamber. Within it, a perfectly hewn white stone block supported a black box about the size of a modern keyboard. The box's lid swung open when Blake stepped closer.

Inside lay a broken shard shimmering with rainbow hues, more vivid than the surrounding golden glow.

"Beautiful craftsmanship," murmured Vargar, closing his eyes as a faint smile formed on his lips.

Throughout this, Blake's and Beatrix's sharp gazes weighed on the dwarf. The familiar likely mirrored her master's caution, tracking his every move. As for Blake, it was no surprise that he remained guarded.

On top of that, Vargar had confirmed Blake's past: abandoned by his guild members and allies in the last battle against the leviathan, Blake likely carried deep scars that drove him to keep others at a distance. The old dwarf met the demon's eyes.

"Do ye remember our promise?"

"You mean that I'll visit the Dwarven Kingdom and forge with you?" Blake asked.

"Ye." Vargar nodded. "I'll hold ye to it."

He turned and left. Perhaps it was for the best.

Even so, the moment reminded Blake of his former self. He had once been a guild leader who hoarded top-tier items, challenging anyone who disagreed, determined to prove them wrong. He refused to let any treasure fall into hands unworthy of unlocking its full potential. Although beta testers had been chosen by strict criteria, a hierarchy still emerged; no two players were truly equal.

Blake had humbled so many others that he rose among the top.

'It's infuriating… but it's logical, isn't it? I have the Aegis Blueprint. Only I can forge this. I don't want to share it with anyone else. It makes sense for me to claim it all!' he thought, as though a devil perched on his shoulder, whispering agreement.

Yet a different, kinder thought arose—an angel on his other shoulder, so to speak.

He turned and called, "Vargar!"

"Ye?" the dwarf answered, pausing to meet Blake's gaze.

For a moment, Blake said nothing. Then he finally spoke:

"…This is tearing me apart. I feel you deserve more, but I don't know what to do. The old me would have taken this item without a second thought. That part of me… it hurts. I don't want to repeat the same mistakes. What should I do?"