Chapter 36
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 36
Chapter Title: Five Days (3)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
"Ahh, that hits the spot! People really need a good night's sleep."
Ilrak stretched languidly.
It was a testament to the Dragonblood's resilience. She'd only taken a one-hour nap, but the fatigue had completely vanished from her face.
"Eek."
Kael hunched his shoulders.
His terrified gaze was fixed on her massive chest.
Having become Ilrak's stuffed toy in Bran's place, he'd been buried in her hot embrace, struggling to breathe until she opened her eyes.
"Sniff. I can't even look her straight in the eye..."
"Tsk tsk. Think of it as a valuable experience."
Bran comforted him.
Thanks to Kael's noble sacrifice, he'd been able to settle comfortably at her side.
Shouts from passersby echoed intermittently as they talked.
"Damn it, move it! Faster!"
"Argh! How the hell are we supposed to meet the deadline?!"
The three were crossing the Steel District toward Bilmoリスの workshop.
The streets teemed with artisans and laborers, brimming with passion as always.
For some reason, the atmosphere felt even more electric today—or maybe it was just his imagination.
Bran asked,
"So, Ilrak. Where've you been for the past three days?"
"Man, the weather's great today. Damn, I love the Steel District the most."
"You punk."
"Huh? What'd you say?"
Ilrak asked back.
Her desperate attempt to avert her gaze was comically obvious.
I gotta make sure she never shops alone.
"We all know, so just spill it. You went and fought a dragon, didn't you?"
"Gasp."
Ilrak sucked in a sharp breath.
She turned to Bran slowly, stammering as she spoke.
"H-how did you...?"
"The edges around the wound are singed. Too rough for a blade cut. And above all, it's healing slowly."
"Agh! Don't touch it!"
Ilrak shuddered as Bran prodded the wound.
From experience, it was definitely a dragon.
Specifically, the telltale mark of a fire or thunder dragon.
And there was only one dragon within traveling distance for a three-day round trip.
"Family squabble?"
"Haaa... Busted completely. Should've at least bandaged it."
Her near-undressed state left the wound fully exposed.
Ilrak nodded.
"Yeah. Had a throwdown with Alto."
"Knew it."
Alto Zarheim.
Eldest son of the great fire dragon Zarheim, and Ilrak's half-brother.
Unlike her, both parents were pureblood dragons—a pureblood among purebloods.
"What'd you fight over?"
"He told me to hand over some treasure useful for battle. Couldn't think of anything else that'd help right away. No satisfying commissions at the mercenary guild either."
"...You."
"You guys are working so hard—I can't just sit around playing."
Ilrak grinned sheepishly.
Her earnest effort was so commendable that even Bran chuckled.
He'd thought it was just a sulky teenage runaway stunt.
"Good girl, Ilrak. So, did you win?"
"Nah. Got my ass handed to me."
"As expected."
It was such a given that even Ilrak stated it matter-of-factly.
Dragons were among the strongest races in Return Lord.
No matter how tough Dragonbloods were, their raw specs couldn't match a pureblood's.
And demanding treasure from a dragon? It was basically declaring a deathmatch between you two.
"Frustrating as hell. Was gonna keep quiet 'cause it's embarrassing, but truth is, I didn't even meet Alto."
"Huh? Then who gave you that wound?"
"That was..."
Ilrak bit her lower lip.
A slightly fearful voice leaked from her lips.
"...Our family butler."
"Butler?"
"More precisely, the head butler. He's a pureblood too. No idea why he's just cleaning under Alto."
First time hearing that.
He'd never visited Alto's lair, even if he knew Zarheim.
But clearly a powerhouse.
A pureblood butler thrashing Ilrak? Impressive.
"Still, it helped a ton. Way better than scrapping with hundreds of small fry—losing hard to someone stronger teaches you more. And it cleared my mind."
"Cleared your mind, huh."
"Yeah. Realized if I keep going like this, I'll live forever under Dad and Alto's shadows. To become better, I need to change."
Ilrak bumped her fists together.
"Starting by listening to you, Bran."
"Excellent attitude. I'm about to tear up."
No joke—he really was.
Just yesterday, she'd thrown a tantrum like a spoiled brat, scoffing at weapons for dragons.
Ilrak cackled.
"No need to make a fuss. So, how'd mana training go?"
"I was average, but this guy's a genius. Show 'em, Kael."
"You mean... Oh."
Kael was quick on the uptake.
The moment he stuck out his index finger, a peach-sized mana orb floated up lightly.
Ilrak's eyes widened like saucers.
"Holy shit, you can manifest it already?!"
"Told you, genius."
"Impressive. Seriously impressive. Not feeling left out anymore."
Mage talent was astonishing even to a Dragonblood.
Bran ruffled Kael's hair like he was petting a large dog.
"Hear that, Kael? Have some confidence."
"I-it's not that great... Ehehe..."
Kael scratched his cheek.
Pretending nonchalance while beaming like a kid.
By the time their chatter wound down, they'd arrived at the Iron Song Workshop.
The pulsating hum of the Dragon Core Kiln echoed from within like a massive crater.
"Bilmoリス. We're here."
Knock knock. Bran rapped on the door.
His boosted mental stats made it less taxing than the first time.
Ilrak seemed immune to the heat, so only Kael had downed a heat resistance potion.
Moments later, the door opened, revealing Bilmoリス.
"...You've arrived. I've been waiting."
"Whoa. What happened to you?"
Bran flinched.
Bilmoリス looked like he'd just escaped a POW camp after four days.
Bloodstains plastered his clothes, amplifying the impression—though Bran knew it wasn't his.
A hoarse voice escaped Bilmoリスの lips.
"Ah... Sorry. The material was so finicky, I worked through the nights. If memory serves, today marks day four."
"Unbelievable. So you haven't slept since I last saw you?"
"Is that how it adds up? Heh heh... This way, please."
Even his laugh lacked strength.
Bran followed warily, ready to catch him if he collapsed.
Kael gaped in awe at the remodeled interior.
"Whoa...! It's totally different from the first time!"
"Heh heh, Lord Leodorn invested a fortune. Finishing in four days is thanks to the upgraded facilities."
It had changed completely.
The Iron Song Workshop was now far more refined and professional.
Not just repairs from the intruder attack, but a full-scale expansion!
"What's this?"
"Ah, that's the Pendref Tongue, a precision engraver. Imported from the capital—far more accurate than hand-carving."
Even top-tier magitech from capital workshops was installed.
Ilrak scratched her head at the smooth new ceiling.
"...You fixed the spot I wrecked too. Sorry about that."
"Sorry? Nonsense! This luxury is all thanks to you all—I should be grateful. Thinking of taking on an apprentice soon."
Bilmoリス smiled.
The guilt over his ordeal faded at the sight.
He led Bran's group to a new room.
Red silk draped a wide platform big enough for two Ilraks.
The gear's outline protruded sharply beneath.
"Now, allow me to introduce them."
Bilmoリス pulled the silk away.
Whoosh! Like a bird flapping its wings, the hidden gear was revealed.
Kael and Ilrak's eyes went wide.
"Wow. So cool...!"
"Whew, that sheen is killer."
There were four pieces.
Shoes, gloves, a pauldron for one shoulder, and a fur cloak.
All crafted from Jerban's hide—the ancient beast he'd transformed into.
"The material was so tricky. Without prior experience tanning ancient breeds, I wouldn't have dared. Sorry I couldn't use the hide more efficiently."
Bilmoリス sighed.
Except the cloak, only one of each type.
Not much considering Jerban's size, but Bran had no complaints.
"No, Bilmoリス. More than enough."
If anything, he was grateful.
Far more generous than expected.
Bran couldn't hold back his grin.
Jackpot. No game theatrics means this payoff.
In the game, you got just one from that drop.
'Crimson Wolf's Hide' as a hidden piece, consumed to craft one item.
The abundance was thanks to skinning it himself.
"Now, personal gear first. Bran's are the shoes and gloves."
"Ah, perfect."
Exactly what he needed, safely made.
Bran picked up the leather gloves and whistled.
The look appealed immediately.
No frills, but the material's toughness exuded innate dignity.
The moment he slipped them on with Bilmoリスの help.
Equipped gloves made from the hidden item 'Crimson Wolf's Hide'!
While wearing the gloves, you acquire the following skills.
Sensory Guidance: Strength increases. Melee attack accuracy (bare hands or weapons) greatly improves.
Beast's Tenacity: Damage increases with repeated strikes to the same spot.
That desperate boss fight with the Ironblood Twins had paid off—in holographic glory.
Both were passive skills active while wearing the gloves.
Matching the game, Bran cheered inwardly.
Hidden piece worthy performance!
As the alerts faded, he distinctly felt his strength surge.
"To your liking?"
"Perfect."
Sincere praise.
Beast's Tenacity was an S-rank passive usable in most fights.
Suck the marrow out of it until a superior skill came along.
Bilmoリス continued,
"Heh heh, glad you like it. Shall we move to the shoes?"
"No. Show Ilrak's gear first. Especially that one."
"Ah, that one."
Bilmoリス exchanged glances with Bran, smiling meaningfully.
Ilrak pointed at herself.
"Me?"
"Yeah. You're the most urgent here. Got a whole day's worth of pointers."
"Ugh. True enough."
"Heh heh, I planned to save it for last—today's pinnacle. But if you insist."
Bilmoリス pulled a nearby lever.
Gears whirred, and the wall behind the platform slowly rotated.
As Bran's group admired the techy reveal,
Clank. Click!
The wall flipped fully, unveiling a massive double-headed axe.
"First time forging something like this in my smithing career. This is Ilrak's weapon."
"...This axe's mine?"
Ilrak froze.
Kael clamped both hands over his mouth.
The unreal double-headed axe looked more like construction equipment than a weapon.
Its blades spanned wider than Bran's outstretched arms—nearly 2 meters.
Elven runes were etched across the blades.
"Commissioned by Bran. He covered all costs and even suggested the basic design."
"Why go this far...?"
"Investment. I rate Lady Ilrak highly."
Bran smiled.
Straight facts, as he'd told Kael.
Ilrak's ears flushed faintly.
"Jeez. Keep calling me 'Lady' and all that crap..."
"Then let's start normalizing, Ilrak."
Time was limited—no perfect overhaul, but best effort.
Ultimate goal: Shift her vague tank-DPS role to pure melee burst dealer.
First step—hearthfire control—was non-negotiable.
Shame no time for real combat practice. I'd be a lacking sparring partner anyway.
He was about to hand her the axe when,
Knock knock.
A refined knock echoed from the entrance.
"What? Someone else you called?"
All four heads turned.
Bilmoリス shrugged.
"No prior appointments."
"Tch, worst timing... I'll check."
Bran grumbled toward the door.
Seemed like these interruptions were frequent lately.
Whoever it was had real dedication to crawl here.
Bran flung the door open, and a polite greeting rang out.
"Pardon the intrusion."
"Huh."
Bran's eyes widened.
Not the shaggy adventurer he'd pictured.
A refined beauty in her early-to-mid twenties.
Her slit eyes, hiding pupils, gave an eerie vibe.
But what truly drew the eye was her outfit—utterly mismatched for the Steel District.
...A maid?
Classic maid uniform.
Black skirt to the ankles.
Frilled apron fluttering in the hot breeze.
Tall for a woman—around 175cm?
She bowed gracefully.
"Sorry for the sudden visit. Looking for someone urgently."
"Who?"
"A Dragonblood girl named Ilrak Zarheim. Scent leads here. May I come in briefly?"
Bran froze, speechless.
Maid outfit was blow one—now this combo.
Suddenly seeking Ilrak? And calling her a 'girl'?
"No way."
Then, a reptilian tail swayed behind her waist, catching Bran's eye.
As he sensed her identity and opened his mouth,
"P-Proide?!"
Ilrak peeked from the entrance, her scream erupting.
The woman called Proide brightened.
"Oh. There you are."
Her slit eyes parted slightly, revealing golden irises.
The instant Proide stepped inside,
Flash!
A chill raced down his spine, and a red warning flared before his eyes.
The dragon's intimidation crushes you!