The Corpse Doll Arm

"Heheheh!"

It was a bit of a cheat, sure—but I'd figured out how to use Invisible Hand. And since the skill was already mine…

"Wouldn't it be only natural to put it to work?"

"It looks to have no practical use in battle, lacking any real strength," Isra said.

"There's always a way."

The moment the sun rose, I headed to a nearby orthopedic clinic and had X-rays taken.

"These are your bones, Doctor."

Why? Give me my bones back.

"Even Master's bones are beautiful."

How was a person supposed to be born for their bones to be beautiful? I questioned Ingrid's sense of aesthetics while carefully studying the X-ray images.

"You mean to fashion them after my Lord's hands and arms?"

"Yeah. The lack of power was probably because the construction was so crude."

The arm-shaped bones I'd slapped together as a temporary fix. I'd used whatever materials were on hand, and the entire process had been a mess. No wonder it couldn't put out any real force.

"Let's make this one properly."

I went to the Hunter Market and bought the materials I needed.

I settled on Dark Dwarf bone for the frame—the corrupted form of a craftsman race. High Orc muscle would fill out the flesh. Harpy tendon was perfect for giving it springy, elastic movement.

"My Lord's rank has risen. Can we not use finer byproducts now?" Isra asked.

"Don't forget why we're making the arm."

"Do not expect too much from that iron-headed one, Master," Ingrid said with a light laugh.

A thin thread of killing intent stabbed toward the chuckling witch.

"Would greater strength not serve my Lord better?!"

"Do you think stronger is always better?"

Ingrid clicked her tongue.

"It has to be made as close as possible to Master's own physical capabilities."

Oh. So the title of Archwitch wasn't something she'd won in a poker game. The way she grasped my intent at once said as much.

I bought everything I needed and returned to the workshop.

Whoosh—!

I fed the Dark Dwarf arm bone into the forge, bringing it up to the temperature I wanted. When it was properly heated, I drew it out.

Clang! Clang!

I hammered it into shape.

I folded the bone a couple of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠times and hammered it again, raising its durability and mana conductivity, then took it through the quenching process.

Hissss!

"You even used the Mana Folding method, yet it has no special abilities?" Ingrid observed.

"That's because its purpose is still unknown."

Man. Look at how unhelpful that item description was. Fine. The work wasn't finished yet. I'd only completed about half of the process I had in mind.

Next came attaching the High Orc muscle.

I bound bone and muscle together with Black Spider silk.

Opening channels for spirit energy to flow through locked everything firmly in place. For the sections that needed smooth motion, I fitted in Harpy tendons.

Lately, simply crafting something was enough to spit out Rare grades with almost boring regularity. If only bone as a main material didn't come with the drawback of limited durability—I could've made a fortune working as a blacksmith.

"Heh."

I wasn't really disappointed, though. The better the quality of what I produced with Bone Metallurgy, the more my minions' combat power shot straight up. Recently the problem had become that my work speed couldn't keep up with the rate of consumption.

"This arm is going to solve that."

I pressed the end of the Corpse Doll Arm against my shoulder blade.

Even through a layer of clothing, I could feel the press against my shoulder blade. Senses sharpened by Heavenly Martial Body made every detail vivid.

Zing—!

My mana flowed into the Corpse Doll Arm, and it settled into place as naturally as if a third arm had always been growing from my back. Why was the sensation this clear? It was nothing like when Invisible Hand had first been added to my skills. If I had to compare it—it was the difference between awkwardly pinching meat with ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠long tongs and simply grabbing it with my bare hand.

I closed the Corpse Doll Arm's fingers around a hammer.

"I think I can do this."

I muttered the thought that had risen unfiltered into my head, then swung the hammer with the Corpse Doll Arm.

Claaaang!

Metal met metal with a clear, ringing note and a spray of sparks. Force comparable to a swing from my right hand. At this level…

It was more than usable in real work!

"Congratulations, my Lord!"

"I knew Master would succeed."

"As expected of the Great Lord, sir!"

I shook my head from side to side.

"I can still push the performance higher."

The more complete the Corpse Doll Arm became, the more my work speed and precision would rise. For now I would have to be satisfied with this much—but once I grew familiar with the skill and deepened my understanding, even higher realms would come into view.

No settling. I had to keep researching and working harder.

I put the Corpse Doll Arm through actual work. Efficiency rose by roughly twenty percent by feel.

"I'm starting to get the hang of it."

Compared to the original form of Invisible Hand, there were clear pros and cons. The advantage was low mana consumption—because the Corpse Doll Hand was a physical object, I didn't have to spend mana simply to manifest it. The downside was that having mass made balancing my center of gravity harder. The limited bend of the joints also restricted its range of motion.

"There are merits and demerits both," Isra said.

"For me, this way is better."

My working method was nothing like a master artisan carefully refining every hammer blow. Volume. And more volume. There was no time to agonize over raising the quality of each piece of equipment. I was mainly clearing C-rank gates, and with Tigris joining the army the rate of attrition had turned brutal.

"Once we promote, equipment durability is going to drop even faster."

"Insolent minions. They cannot even take proper care of the arms my Lord has bestowed upon them."

"Not all of them are the Continent's Greatest Sword, you know."

My custom minions, influenced by Heavenly Martial Body, fought better than ordinary undead. Their combat sense was excellent, and the knight order had even been taught secondary techniques by Sir Isra. Even so, the limits of low-grade undead were crystal clear. They attacked without regard for injury, so armor durability plummeted at a frightening rate.

"When the scale of the Death Domain grows, the number of undead you can command will increase too, won't it?" Ingrid said.

"And consumption will grow fiercer still, so raising work speed is the only path," Isra answered.

Finally they were empathizing with my worries. Not every undead could dodge or redirect an opponent's force the way Sir Isra could.

"First I need to get a new forge."

One of the pieces of advice Nam Jinwoo had given me: a high-output forge cut work time by a matching amount. Replacing the workshop forge was simple enough. The problem was the portable forge I carried in my subspace carrier.

"Is increasing the speed of gate clears not the core of it?" Isra asked.

"Yeah."

I would need to look into a new portable forge as well. Asking President Baek to source one would be fastest. If nothing suitable turned up, I would put in a custom order with Hanil Blacksmith.

Getting used to the Corpse Doll Arm could wait for later.

"Zaug. Time to remodel you."

"Urgh…"

"A promise is a promise."

I tended to respect my subordinates' wills as much as possible. Souls from other worlds were not mindless things without self or reason like low-grade undead. Binding them forced loyalty from the start—but better to earn loyalty that rose from the heart, wasn't it? That was why I had put off remodeling Zaug until now.

"If you've received, you give. That's only natural."

"Thief. The way you can help Master is by fixing that wretched body of yours," Ingrid said.

I was the one who made that wretched body, you know.

"Ah. My apologies."

The self-proclaimed archaeologist and actual thief, Zaug—his talents were stealth and ambush. An Armed Zombie Strengthened Soldier's body had never let him use those gifts properly.

"This is going to hurt a little."

"I hate pain, sir!"

"They say even bullets don't hurt if you take them gently."

"Kyaaaaaaah!!"

I dismantled the Armed Zombie Strengthened Soldier that stood over two meters tall and remodeled Zaug with a process similar to the one I'd used for Draco. I didn't have much experience crafting ghouls, but the research I'd put into Draco made the conversion go smoothly.

His raw specs had dropped compared to the Armed Zombie Strengthened Soldier form. In exchange, agility had soared, and skills and abilities I had never seen before had appeared. With the Resurrected bonus applied, the missing stats were covered to a decent degree. The careful remodeling had been worth it.

"To think I've become a ghoul! Sob…"

"It is for my Lord's sake. Endure it with a glad heart," Isra said.

"Even the thief has finally become somewhat useful," Ingrid added.

"My ladies, that's too cruel, it is!"

Once Zaug had a proper meeting with me in a dream, I would restore his living appearance. Just suffer a little for now. It couldn't be helped.

With all the work finished, we headed back to my studio apartment. I walked the darkening streets with my two subordinates.

"Has the one who serves my Lord already gone home?" Isra asked.

"I told them to clock out at six."

Of course. I'd gotten so absorbed in work that we'd left the workshop around eight again. Riding in a car someone else drove was convenient, but…

"Walking like this every so often is nice too."

"As long as I am with Master, anywhere is a joy," Ingrid said.

"Witch. Cease your idle nonsense."

Sir Isra stepped in front of Ingrid. The air between the two of them was hot enough to start a fire.

Ugh. When were these two going to stop fighting?

As I strolled along in relative peace, a chill ran down my spine.

"My Lord."

"Master."

The two subordinates who had been growling at each other wiped the smiles from their faces and stepped in front of me.

Crackle—! Snap!

Sparks danced in empty air. The empty roadside scenery warped and twisted. Spatial distortion meant only one thing.

"A gate?"

But… why did it feel so ominous?