Pinning Down the Demon Commander's Armor
A low, pained groan escaped Illusia's lips as she gripped the broken armrest of the massive obsidian chair with white-knuckled force.
Each time she inhaled, a scorching pinch radiated from the right side of her ribs, as if a red-hot skewer had been driven straight into her flesh.
The culprit had appeared a month ago.
One of the artifacts pulled from the Demon King's underground vaults, designed to maximize defensive power.
It had absorbed physical impacts with terrifying efficiency.
Yet the price had been merciless.
The thick steel breastplate had burrowed into her skin, pinning her mana core by force.
Twisted mana had surged upward from her abdomen, flaying her internal organs raw.
She had gained unmatched defense, but her ability to breathe and circulate mana had collapsed entirely.
At any moment she wanted to rip the cursed lump of metal from her body and hurl it away.
She could not.
Revealing a weakness would mean immediate death to a demon.
If the story of the Demon King's feared First Corps Commander, the Blood Butcher, suffering because she could not endure the side effects of her own armor, ever reached the ears of her troops, rebellion would ignite from the very foundations of the army.
It was her private, lethal burden alone.
"Commander, your complexion isn't good. Shall I call the medic?"
A goblin officer guarding the tent asked carefully, eyes darting around.
Illusia's bloodshot eyes locked onto him in silent fury.
"No. Stop wasting breath and report on the situation outside."
"Yes, ma'am! Um... the human prisoners you kept alive in the camp yesterday."
The goblin scratched his pointed ears, a dissatisfied scowl on his face.
"Isn't it better to just feed them to the wolves right now?"
"A human who couldn't even think straight with one scrap of armor is obviously trying to keep his head."
"Thinking straight?"
Illusia's voice dropped to a glacial chill.
The goblin officer flattened himself against the floor with a terrified hiss.
Illusia unconsciously rubbed the pain-throbbing right side of her ribs.
'Just some human prisoner.'
Her mind flashed back to the arrogant prisoner she had met in the camp yesterday.
Even her own veteran officers, who had fought on the battlefield with her for years, had never noticed her agony after the armor changed.
Yet this man had spotted her secret pain with a single glance.
He had said he made clothes.
That he would create perfect defensive armor to end her suffering.
"If that smug mouth of his is nothing but a thin lie, I'll peel his skin from his bones myself."
Illusia forced her suppressed mana back down and rose from the chair.
'Clank.'
The heavy armor clanged against the tent frame.
The ruthless face of the Blood Butcher once again settled over her features.
"But if that man really turns out to be useful, he might be worth keeping alive. Have you brought the prisoner?"
"H-he's waiting outside, ma'am!"
"Bring him in."
.
.
.
'Click. Creak.'
The heavy door swung open, and I was shoved inside by a group of goblin soldiers.
The air reeked of something acrid and heavy, like the incense meant to mask the stench of blood.
Every wall was lined with lethal weapons, making the small space feel like it was strangling you.
In the center of the tent sat Illusia on the enormous chair, legs crossed, still wearing the terrifying full-plate armor from yesterday's camp.
"Forgive me, but I'll need to examine your body first."
"You wanted me to make armor, but you show up empty-handed and demand to see my body?"
Illusia's crimson eyes pierced me like blades.
The sound of breathing vanished from the room.
Rage sliced through the air.
'Calm down, crazy woman. I really am going to suffocate.'
My legs trembled, and I nearly dropped to my knees.
Inside, tears of blood welled up as I begged silently for my life.
But outwardly I remained stone-faced, pulling a worn yellow tape measure from my pocket.
I secretly wiped the sweat soaking my palms against my trousers.
"What matters most to the person who creates clothing is not the fabric or the tools. It is the body of the person who will wear it."
I looked straight into her eyes and forced my voice to remain steady as I spoke.
"Take off that armor right now."
Illusia's expression twitched.
Her hand tightened around the handle of the massive scythe leaning against the chair.
She was probably furious.
"If it chews at the wearer's body, it's not clothing—it's a cursed restraint."
I lifted my chin and summoned the arrogant, emotionless genius artist persona that had faced the most demanding VIP clients across lifetimes.
"I can only create a truly perfect set of armor if I can measure you."
An eternity of silence stretched between us.
The terrifying fear that my life hung at the tip of her finger crashed over me.
Finally, Illusia let out a short sigh and stood up.
'Clank. Clatter.'
Her heavy steel boots came off, and spiked pauldrons clattered to the floor.
When she unbuckled the breastplate, her naked body was revealed beneath the crude metal.
I unconsciously swallowed a short gasp.
Under her pale skin lay muscles as dense as a beast's—perfect proportions with no excess.
I had seen the bodies of countless top models in my past life, but this was the first time I had ever witnessed such raw vitality.
My gaze soon fixed on the horrific traces carved into her form.
Along the lower curves of her breasts and ribs.
Along her shoulders and collarbones.
Red bruises and twisted abrasions from the forced friction of the heavy artifact armor covered her white skin like grotesque marks.
How had she even swung that massive scythe while bearing wounds like these?
For a split second, the terror in my heart eased a fraction.
What replaced it was a vicious occupational hazard.
Clothing that hurt rather than highlighted the human body.
I despised this more than anything in the world.
"...Why are you staring so intently? Start already before you gouge out your own eyes."
Illusia frowned, arms slightly spread, clearly displeased.
I approached without a word.
'This woman in front of me is not the Blood Butcher who slaughtered the prisoners next door.'
'She is merely the client whose body has been ruined by bad clothing—and my canvas.'
I kept repeating the mantra to myself.
"I'll start with the underbust circumference."
I held the cold yellow tape taut with both hands and wrapped an arm around her back.
My hand back brushed the scorching bare skin of her side.
'Startle.'
Illusia's shoulders shot up.
Her previously untouched, defenseless bare skin reacted violently to the unfamiliar male hand and the tape's pressure.
"Don't touch me more than necessary, human."
She growled, bloodlust surging from her.
She looked ready to snap my neck at any moment.
I ignored her and pressed the tape exactly against the red bruise just below her breasts.
"Breathe in and hold it."
With my dry command, my fingers pressing the tape dug lightly into the area around her compressed ribs.
'Snap.'
Illusia's eyes flew wide in shock.
"...!"
A beast-like groan tore from her throat.
The strongest warrior on the continent, the Commander of the First Corps, was trembling helplessly, pinned by a thin tape measure and forced to hold her breath.
Her pale ears turned scarlet.
'With these measurements... the old armor was completely useless as armor.'
I confirmed the numbers with absolute precision, heart hammering.
Illusia's crimson eyes watched me warily.
'One mistake and my neck will fly.'
'Don't think about anything else. Focus.'
I swallowed hard and moved to the next area.
"For the lower garment, I'll measure the hips and inner thighs. Spread your legs a little wider."
Illusia's eyes widened further.
"You want me to measure that far?"
"To guarantee perfect mobility, I need to understand the exact movement of joints and muscles."
I knelt and reached between her legs.
The tape was about to reach the deepest part of her smooth inner thigh.
'Snap.'
Perhaps sensing an instinctive defense mechanism, Illusia reflexively contracted her thigh muscles and tried to close her legs.
The tape's tension was about to snap.
'Smack.'
I instinctively pressed my palm hard against her thigh to stop her.
"Relax. Measuring while the muscle is tensed will ruin the fit later."
The tent fell into complete silence.
I had just touched the thigh of the Blood Butcher and lectured her.
My back was suddenly drenched in cold sweat.
I thought she might kick my head off at any second.
Mad. Lee Do-jin. My intestines would be coming out.
Illusia did nothing.
"...Done."
All measurements were finally complete.
I pulled the tape in and stood up like I was running away.
"Measurements finished. For perfect cutting, I'll return to my assistant's private workspace to work."
"...Not here?"
"My work requires intense concentration and help. I'll bring the finished clothes back in a few hours."
I left the tent without looking back.
I felt Illusia's crimson eyes burning into my back, but I forced my legs to keep moving.
.
.
.
'Bang.'
The moment I stepped into the workshop, my legs gave out and I collapsed to the floor.
My back was soaked with sweat.
'Insane. I survived! I thought I was going to lose my head just from touching a thigh!'
"Ed! You're alive!"
Hans, the old man trembling in the corner as he prayed, crawled over urgently and helped me up.
I panted heavily, pulling the materials toward me.
"Uncle, stop praying and come help. If we can't finish in an hour, both of us will be stripped instead."
"T-that's... fast... we should work quickly..."
Hans's face turned deathly white at my words.
I quickly wiped down the surface of the abyssal spider leather with my fingertips, testing its texture.
The feel was cool yet bizarre.
When I stretched it between both hands, it didn't stretch even 0.1mm.
"Uncle. What kind of beast is this leather from? It has zero elasticity no matter how much you pull."
"It's the leather of the abyssal spider. It's tough enough that no sword can cut it."
"But it has a fatal flaw. When mana touches it, it hardens like a rock."
"Demons can only make rough padding inside their heavy armor to absorb shock."
As soon as I heard Hans's explanation, a spark exploded in my mind.
'Mana hardens it? No.'
I gently scratched the grain with my nails again.
Delicate fibers crossed and recrossed in a tight lattice.
'When mana touches the fabric, the fibers shrink to extremes.'
'The fabric gains powerful elasticity when it shrinks, but the demons cut it roughly along the grain and mistake it for just being rock-hard.'
They were even using the no-needle method of poking holes and tying them, which was insane.
"Uncle. Hold both ends of this leather and stretch it taut."
"L-like this?"
Hans grabbed the ends, confused.
I recalled Illusia's perfect body measurements and curves from moments ago as 3D patterns in my mind.
What she needed was not crude defense.
I needed to free the crushed ribcage to allow free breathing, and extreme mobility that wouldn't interfere with swinging a massive scythe.
The clothing I had to create was modern functional sports bras and seamless leggings without any stitching.
"If I cut this abyssal spider leather roughly like this, it will only squeeze the body tighter and won't follow the joint range when the scythe swings."
I drew diagonal lines across the leather with my fingers and continued explaining.
"I twist the grain along the diagonal. That way, when the mana is absorbed and it shrinks, the fabric will gain the elasticity to follow the wearer's movements."
"Even if you say that, I still don't understand..."
"It's greater human engineering than magic. Okay, hold tight. Even 0.1mm of error and the tension will break."
The design was already drawn in my mind.
There was still one fatal problem.
'...But what material am I supposed to cut this with?'
I looked around, but there was no way the prisoner workshop would have scissors or cutting knives.
One of Uncle Hans's waist pouches had a rusty dagger, but it was obvious that would only leave scratches on this tough leather.
And asking the demons for help would hurt my pride...
'I'm going insane. If I had a pattern, I could cut it. But I can't cut anything.'
My back was soaked again.
Just then, the system message that had floated in the air last night flashed through my mind.
[Skill: Three-Dimensional Cutting acquired] [Skill: Mana Fusion Sewing acquired]
'Skills. Yeah, I had skills. But how do I even use them? I'm a modern person who doesn't even know the first thing about magic.'
I hesitantly called the skill names in my mind.
'System. Three-Dimensional Cutting.'
A blue holographic window appeared, and new text began scrolling.
[Activating Three-Dimensional Cutting skill.]
[Guide: This skill projects the patterns conceived in the worker's mind as mana. Imagine holding a familiar tool and draw the cutting trajectory with your fingertips.]
'Imagine holding a familiar tool?'
I swallowed hard and raised my right hand.
Fingers spread, thumb and middle finger extended, index finger pushing with force.
The heavy, cool grip of the tailor scissors I had carried in my hand for over ten years in my past life.
I moved my fingers as if holding that weight and chill.
'Snap.'
A miracle happened.
Blue mana shot out from my fingertips like the blade of a sharp pair of scissors.
"Hah! E-Ed! Mana from your hands...!"
Hans screamed and dropped to his knees, but I had no time to answer.
The blue mana on my fingertips was perfectly synchronized with my will.
'This is it. This feeling.'
I moved the mana blade across the leather like sliding on ice.
The muscle memory of a master designer guided my hands.
The tough abyssal spider leather sliced smoothly, piece by piece, following the diagonal pattern without being cut by hand.
Racerback top pattern that wouldn't interfere with shoulder movement.
3D patterns on the lower half that reduced leg fatigue and eliminated friction.
Sweat dripped from my forehead into my eyes, but I couldn't even wipe it away.
I forgot even the deathly fear that my head might fly off at any second and threw myself into creating the perfect clothing with mad devotion.
After the cutting was finished, the leather pieces floated in mid-air.
I picked up a bundle of mana thread from beside me and activated the second skill.
'Mana Fusion Sewing.'
[Activating Mana Fusion Sewing skill.]
[Guide: The mana thread fuses the fabric's organization according to the intended joining method. Imagine the sewing form.]
'No need for needles. I'm fusing the fabric itself.'
I pictured the delicate needlework of a sewing machine I had used thousands of times in my past life.
The no-seam method of hiding the stitches inside the fabric to completely eliminate skin friction.
As my imagination responded, the black mana thread moved like snakes, threading itself through the leather seams.
Two pieces of leather fused perfectly into one through the mana thread, sending up bright blue sparks.
"I-I can't believe it. You can make clothes without needles. Ed, what exactly are you?"
"I told you. I'm a tailor."
I tied off the final mana thread, then flicked the fabric tension with my fingertips to check it.
'Ting.'
Perfect elasticity. Insanely great clothing.
After dozens of minutes of intense labor, two sets of clothing landed softly on my hands.
Black as ink, smooth as silk, feather-light top and bottom.
[Crafting Complete]
[Item Name: Abyssal Spider's Shadow Set]
[Grade: Heroic]
[Base Stats: Physical Defense +450
Agility +300
Avoidance Rate +40%]
[Special Effect 1 - Mana Core Release: Opens the wearer's abdomen to its limit. Explosively absorbs vast mana.]
[Special Effect 2 - Second Skin: Air resistance and physical friction disappear, leaving behind a ghostly afterimage for high-speed movement.]
I watched the system window's numbers float in the air, chest heaving.
My entire body was drenched in sweat, but a lewd smile spread across my lips alongside a dry chuckle.
"Uncle. I'll be back. If I don't return in an hour..."
"O-okay. Just stay alive."
I draped the finished clothes neatly over my arm and left the workshop.