The crackle of flames and the smell of melting metal was a true source of comfort after the day I had, which was not only marked with diplomatic disaster, alongside a silent yet no less important decision to spread all the information I collected freely, in a way I couldn't restrict, all topped with a near-disaster in the dungeon, borne from my own oversight.
Not exactly a candidate for the best day ever, but standing in front of an open flame with my skin dry, finally free to focus on the technical challenges went a way to help my mood recover.
If only I wasn't designing yet another weapon to defend against the next disaster, where we needed every edge we could muster to have even a hope of surviving.
"Now, the first challenge … the materials," I said loudly as I examined the several pieces of red hot metal, as well as the monster parts.
From a quality perspective, not using the monster parts was the best option. With my Wisdom in place, as long as I spent some time working on a weapon, I would have been able to imbue the pure concept behind the skill, ending up with a superior weapon.
And, if I was forging a new weapon for Eleanor — or the sword I had promised to Leona — I might have gone that route. Spending a day or two, maybe even a week, to arm a true elite was a worthwhile exchange.
Unfortunately, the situation I faced was slightly different. My needs weren't restricted to just one or two weapons. I needed to arm a significant elite force before the Drakkan forces arrived, meaning the bespoke method was out.
It was where the monster parts came into play. They not only contained some mana to anchor my manipulations rather than adding them delicately layer by layer, but also contained some conceptual existence that I could mold.
Unfortunately, that wasn't exactly straightforward. The monster parts could be used for forging, but those concepts could be stretched only so far. Making the situation worse, the only materials I had an abundance of were the insect shells and lizard claws, each with their own distinctive patterns.
It could end up similar to trying to paint the ocean using only red and brown paint.
"First, let's see if the attempt was worthwhile," I said as I focused on my newest skill.
[Blade of Radiant Flame - 221]
I didn't just summon the notification, but raised my own blade, letting the energy of the skill imbue the blade without restriction as I went through the core moves, moving back and forth as I faced imaginary enemies.
It was not like my usage earlier today. Back then, I was just roughly identifying the general concept before overwhelming it with transformed mana to trick the System for rapid rewards. Instead, I let the skill dictate every hint of movement, every flow, trying to understand the Blade of Radiant Flame.
I was glad that I did. Because, there was something different about the skill.
Something fundamental.
Trying to describe the differences was not easy, particularly since the challenge wasn't even limited to pointing out the differences. Even the solitary skills were difficult to truly describe. Their effects might be clear, but their working principles were still a mystery.
It was like using a computer to send an email, and understanding how modern microchips and networking theory worked in conjunction.
Before receiving Wisdom, I assumed skills were more like a library, providing a convenient bundle of information and reflexes, which could be used more competently as the connection with the System turned stronger.
However, once I received Wisdom and was able to recognize a whole new dimension to skills, which I called conceptuality, I realized that the understanding I had was limited. The external skills packed far more than just a conveniently packed library and martial arts guide combination. It contained a certain perspective on life.
Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.
The same didn't apply to the Class Skills, but that was something to be delved into later. Maybe their impact was just bundled with the classes themselves.
However, the issue was clear. Just like the classes, it came with a lot of subtle cultural subtext. However, that went mostly unremarked until I focused on studying the Radiant Flame, assuming that it was sharing the same root.
But, now that I had the Radiant Flame to compare, I was starting to have doubts, which were growing stronger the deeper I delved through them. For all surface-level familiarity, there was something different between the two skills.
The only problem, I couldn't really put my finger on the difference. The best comparison I had was reading two different novels, both translated into English. However, one of those two novels was written in French, reflecting not only a shared culture, but also a bridge between the two languages that had developed together over a long period.
The Blade of Radiant Flame, on the other hand, felt like it was translated from a novel originally written by a Japanese writer in the seventeenth century, separated by not only cultural differences without exact overlap, but also a language with a wildly different grammar structure. Expertly translated, conveying everything excellently, but still not enough to erase the subtle sense of alienation.
"Maybe I'm being paranoid," I muttered, trying to convince myself that there was nothing to be focused on, wanting to focus on more practical concerns, but the subtle yet clear difference was giving me a jarring sense of discord.
"Add it to the list, and move on, Devon," I muttered. I stopped comparing the differences between the skills, and focused on the more practical problems, no matter how much I was annoyed by the necessity of doing so.
Instead, I focused on the more practical concerns. Like the way Radiant Flame operated to break through both armor and mana defenses alike, cleaving through them with an ease that surprised me, even when comparing the differences between Epic and Legendary.
Curious, I created several defenses out of different mana patterns, yet breaching through them with ease, though the experiments gave me other results. The melee forms were significantly more effective than the ranged forms.
"A nice thing to know," I said to myself. I went through the moves, doing my best to memorize the main set of movements in case my External skills were burned once more. And, whenever I got used to the current moveset, I forced another mana attack, adding several more proficiency points to the skill before I restarted my practice.
Until I was looking at its completed form.
[Blade of Radiant Flame (Legendary) - 400 [Incandescent Slash]]
For the perk, I once again went with the name that gave me the offensive option, instead of perk options like Ashen Body or Blaze Step, once again choosing to rely on my earlier role distribution between the different skills.
Another reason for this choice was the fact that the attack was the thing I needed to copy the most. "Let's try it," I said, but to test it, I stepped to the fifth floor momentarily, near the gate. I could have tried against another metal plate, but I wanted to use it as an excuse to check the situation of the breach.
Despite the unrest shown by the insects due to extra gates, things were relatively stable on the fifth floor. The modified willow trees held well at the border, turning into a nesting ground for the insects despite their rage, not touching these sources of decay.
I didn't have the same luxury. The moment I appeared, they reacted to my presence aggressively. I dodged, not wanting to weaken the best army against the lizards. Though it meant I had to run away for a while until I figured out the trick of turning the decay into a bubble around me, playing around until the sensation I provided was similar to the decay trees.
It was a simple trick only thanks to Nurture's assistance, helping me copy the general sensation of a plant far more effectively than I could have achieved otherwise.
Once the insects were calmed down, I moved to the breach, which had been stabilized well enough to allow the passage of boss monsters, both the lizard and insect types. There were no boss monsters around yet, my own dungeon yet to spawn one, and the lizard side either having the same issue, or being kept back for an organized strike later.
It mattered not. There were several larger variants, enough to act as an inferior target for Incandescent Slash. I swung my blade, and a bright, glowing arc left my blade. However, the red aftermath of the attack was different, the edges of it shining like a rainbow.
Pretty as it was, an even more important aspect was the ease with which it cleaved through several lizards at once, showing that the Incandescent Slash was a perk that was worthy of a Legendary skill.
A few more attacks later, I returned to the fourth floor, the ringing of my hammer on the anvil echoed like a metronome, doing my best to wreathe the ordinary iron with the concepts I had learned from the skill, the process fascinatingly rapid.
Soon, I was looking at a sword that left gleaming red marks in the air with every attack, reflecting an inferior copy of the Radiant Flame.
"Quite impressive for the first attempt that took merely half an hour," I said as I examined it, then turned to the piles of monster materials. "Let's see if there's a viable shortcut."