Re: Tales of the Rune-Tech Sage

Chapter 470: Show-off I

CH470 Show-off I

***

”Do you have a way to do it?” Zora asked.

”I am not sure.” Alex shrugged. ”But there are two viable approaches—my AetherKindle, and Eleanor’s [Purification] spell.”

He paused, then added honestly, ”That said, I’m hoping more that the [Purification] spell works.”

”What?” Eleanor raised an eyebrow. ”Are you planning to work me to death?”

”No.” Alex smiled faintly before explaining, ”Think about it this way. If [Purification] works, then once I get my Rune-Tech platform operational again, I can design a device or system that automates the purification process.”

The women’s eyes lit up simultaneously.

”Give me one beast core,” Eleanor said decisively. ”I’ll test it as we move. You should do the same on your end.”

”Are you sure?” Alex frowned slightly. ”That could be a waste of mana. Considering you’re our healer, overextending yourself could be dangerous.”

”Don’t worry,” Eleanor replied nonchalantly. ”I won’t use more mana than necessary. And don’t forget—my Fey Monarch Bloodline improves my mana recovery while I’m under sunlight.”

She pointed up at the sky. ”That’s the sun.”

Alex exhaled and nodded. ”Very well.”

He himself possessed the Everspring Tattoo, so his mana recovery was likewise enhanced.

After finishing the discussion, Alex walked over toward Kavakan and Sugud.

The elf-dwarf hybrid was staring at the weretiger’s axes—his expression growing increasingly horrified by the second.

”What were you thinking?!” Sugud snapped. ”How could you use broad-headed axes to yank something out?! And you dare call them precious—your babies? Is this how you treat something precious?!”

Alex slowed to a halt.

He almost couldn’t believe his eyes.

The usually timid Sugud was berating Kavakan—a hulking weretiger nearly twice his size.

’Ah. Of course,’ Alex realised. ’A forgesmith with dwarven blood. This was inevitable.’

With Sugud’s dwarven lineage, watching a forged weapon be abused was nothing short of sacrilege.

What surprised Alex even more was Kavakan’s reaction.

The weretiger stood there silently, head bowed in shame, enduring the scolding without protest. The contrast was so absurd it was almost comical.

”Um...” Kavakan finally muttered. ”Can... can they be fixed?”

”At least you still have some conscience.” Sugud nodded, clearly pleased by the weretiger’s genuine concern for his weapons. ”They can be fixed—but I’ll need proper facilities. Obviously, that won’t be happening until we leave this damned place.”

He muttered under his breath, ”I should have stayed back at the Camp. What was I thinking, following you all here?”

”So, the weapons can no longer be used?” Alex asked.

His sudden voice startled Sugud so badly that the elf-dwarf hybrid jumped like a cat whose tail had just been stepped on.

Alex raised an eyebrow.

’Am I really that scary?’ he wondered. ’More so than the hulking brute you were just berating?’

”They can still be used,” Sugud replied after composing himself, ”but there’s a high risk they’ll be damaged beyond repair if that happens.”

”Got it.” Alex nodded. ”Keep the axes with you so he doesn’t get any funny ideas.”

He turned to Kavakan. ”I’ll give you a replacement for now—until your babies are fixed. That okay?”

Kavakan looked longingly at the axes in Sugud’s hands before reluctantly nodding.

He accepted the replacement weapons and quickly walked away, clearly afraid he might lose control and try to reclaim his original axes.

”Can you upgrade them?” Alex asked. ”At least make them more durable.”

”They’re already durable enough for a Tier III weapon,” Sugud replied flatly. ”The problem is that he hasn’t been keeping up with proper professional maintenance.”

”He’s been sharpening and repairing them himself?” Alex asked.

”Yes,” Sugud confirmed. ”That said, if you want, I can modify them to make self-maintenance easier for him. It’s obvious he doesn’t like handing his weapons over to someone else. But that would require some... expensive materials.”

”Let me know what you need when we get back to the Camp,” Alex said. ”I’ll see what we can do to acquire them.”

He paused, then added, ”How are you faring overall? This expedition isn’t exactly the glamorous crafting work I promised.”

”The constant fighting aside, it hasn’t been that bad,” Sugud admitted. ”Tinkering with the crossbows has been fun. And I’m sure I’ll see even more work once we reach a more stable settlement.”

A hint of excitement crept into his voice.

”I already have several ideas for the modifications to the crossbows you suggested. I just need a proper forge to bring them to life.”

Alex chatted with Sugud for a little while longer as the team marched on.

Managing his relationship with his followers was part of his duties and responsibilities as a leader, after all.

As the expedition continued its advance toward the core of the nest, they encountered a mix of familiar threats and new monsters alike.

Beyond the Crystal Scorpion’s territory, the group entered the hunting grounds of the one-eyed lizard.

Although the creature’s name didn’t sound particularly imposing, it was dripping with value—at least to Pangeans.

To Verdantians, however, it was considered a largely worthless beast best avoided.

According to myth, one-eyed lizards were said to be lesser offspring of Basilisks and Cockatrices.

The idea itself was already absurd. That two hostile species—ones that despised each other as fiercely as those two—would produce offspring together was difficult enough to believe. Claiming it happened with any regularity made the myth even more unreliable.

Not to mention, the creature looked nothing like either of its supposed progenitors.

Still, the myth wasn’t entirely without merit.

Like a cockatrice, the one-eyed lizard possessed a petrifying gaze, capable of turning whatever it focused on into stone—if it so desired. And like a basilisk, it was a creature of living poison.

That said, neither ability came anywhere close to the terrifying level of its more illustrious counterparts. More importantly, it lacked even a trace of the draconic aura that both Basilisks and Cockatrices possessed.

Even so, the one-eyed lizard was extremely valuable in alchemy, serving as a key component in numerous potions and poisons.

Unsurprisingly, Eleanor insisted that any specimens they killed to be kept in as perfect a condition as possible.

The greatest danger posed by one-eyed lizards wasn’t their individual strength, but the fact that they never lived alone.

These half-metre-tall, two-metre-long cyclopean lizards moved in packs of five to ten.

Facing them head-on—and killing them—wasn’t particularly difficult for the Pangeans.

Killing them without damaging their valuable components, however, was another matter entirely.

It required speed, precision, and finesse.

Naturally, the one most suited for the task stepped forward.

”Stay safe,” Alex said.

Udara nodded.

The Shadow Dancer turned toward the one-eyed lizards.

She released a slow breath, then moved.

One-eyed lizards possessed a very narrow fatal point—located at the junction where the head met the neck, just behind the jaw hinge.

A blade had to be driven upward from beneath the head at a precise angle.

Too high, and the strike would damage the eyes and the petrifying organ.

Too low, and it would rupture the poison sac nestled close to the head–neck junction, flooding the body with venom and contaminating the corpse.

***