Farewell to Arkelon
The Mot clan riding atop Arkelon possessed exceptional talents for production and reinforcement.
They were Awakeners who could receive tremendous treatment upon entering Neo Seoul. All such capable individuals had been mobilized to stabilize Clayon.
Not only that, but they had meticulously disassembled it, repaired the damaged sections, and restored it to like-new condition.
Kaili attempted to apply new enchantments, but Clayon already bore so many that no more could be added.
With an incredulous expression, Kaili asked Pabilsa.
"What on earth is this sword? I've never seen anything like it. Is it really made by a human?"
"Clayon is a masterpiece born from one man's obsession."
"A human really made it?"
"Indeed."
"Who?"
"Clayon!"
"Pardon?"
"Clayon made this sword."
"So the sword's name is the same as its creator?"
"Yes."
"Why...?"
"Enough! I can't say more."
"Ah!"
Kaili looked disappointed at Pabilsa's firm line in the sand.
Pabilsa sheathed Clayon and headed toward Dayton.
Dayton was already prepared to depart and waiting for him. Zeon stood by his side.
Handing over Clayon, Pabilsa said,
"We've polished it up like new."
"Thanks."
Pabilsa flinched at Dayton's gratitude.
It was the first time in a hundred years he'd heard such words.
Dayton never thanked or expressed appreciation to anyone.
He viewed the entire world, himself included, as worthless scum unworthy of respect. Pabilsa was no exception.
For him to thank Pabilsa was an event of monumental proportions.
Pabilsa ventured cautiously,
"You sound like we'll never meet again."
"We probably won't. Not while we're both alive."
"Hm!"
"Live well, Pabilsa. Thanks for everything."
Dayton chuckled dryly as he rose to his feet.
Overwhelmed by his presence, Pabilsa stood speechless for a moment.
It had been ages since he'd been rendered so tongue-tied.
After gazing at Dayton briefly, he instructed Kaili to fetch some items.
A safety tent that masked presence from monsters, a dagger with enhanced cutting power, a large jar for water, magic stones usable as currency—essentials for desert survival.
"Take these. They might not help much, but someday they'll come in handy."
Dayton eyed the items for a moment before telling Zeon,
"I don't need 'em. Pack 'em all in your subspace."
"Got it!"
Zeon channeled mana into his gauntlet, activating his subspace.
It swallowed the items whole.
Zeon stared at his gauntlet in wonder.
Then Kaili spoke up.
"Oh, right! Here."
What she handed Dayton was a breastplate crafted from the shell of the Queen Wolf Ant.
It offered perfect protection for the chest and abdomen without hindering movement.
Though time constraints prevented enchantments, its defensive prowess from the queen's corpse was extraordinary.
Dayton said,
"Give it to the kid."
"Right! This was Zeon's."
"Yeah. He still can't protect his own sorry ass, so might as well kit him out with some armor."
"Okay."
Kaili handed the breastplate to Zeon without further questions.
"Here!"
"Thanks."
Zeon accepted it.
Anyone else might have bristled at the implication, but Zeon was grateful for another layer of protection over his pride.
As Dayton said, he lacked the ability to fend for himself yet. He'd need gear like this until he grew strong enough.
The recent scavenger fight had driven that home.
Zeon donned the breastplate beneath his robe.
Just wearing it made him feel far more secure.
Dayton declared,
"Let's go!"
"Yeah!"
Zeon replied and disembarked from Arkelon.
Pabilsa and Kaili watched the two depart.
Neither glanced back, vanishing into the distance impassively.
Once they were out of sight, Kaili asked Pabilsa,
"Grandpa!"
"What is it?"
"Why go this far for him? Did he have something on you?"
The Pabilsa she knew didn't lavish such generosity or consideration on others.
His clan came first and foremost.
Everyone else was just a tool. She couldn't fathom why he'd extend himself so for Dayton.
His answer was simple.
"The world and I owe him a debt."
"A debt?"
"All of us, me included, avert our eyes from the truth and live in cowardice. But not him."
"What do you mean?"
"He's the only one facing reality head-on, pushing forward. For a whole century, no less. How could I not respect a man like that, no matter the circumstances? He's the only one I both admire and fear."
"I don't get what you're talking about."
"You don't need to. It's a truth I don't wish to share. But promise me this one thing."
"What?"
"Zeon is the one Dayton chose as his companion. If you ever cross paths with him again, help him. It's the only way we can repay even a fraction of what we owe Dayton."
Pabilsa's gravity silenced Kaili; she dared not press further.
＊＊＊
Leaving Arkelon, Dayton and Zeon headed east.
Dayton still hadn't revealed their destination. He simply trudged onward in silence.
Zeon didn't ask.
Now, he followed by inertia alone.
They'd walked the desert all day without fatigue.
The sand carried Zeon effortlessly.
He just had to manage his mana to avoid depletion—a grueling task, but one he'd grown accustomed to.
Mana was wondrous; the more he used it, the more his capacity expanded. Thus, Zeon made a habit of draining it fully during breaks.
He relentlessly practiced Sand Blaster, Sand Missile, and sand control to build proficiency.
The scavenger battle had been a pivotal awakening, revealing his boundless potential.
He constantly replayed the fight, analyzing flaws and pondering more efficient sand usage.
Through endless play with sand, his skills surged.
Desert travel brought frequent monster ambushes.
Dayton didn't lift a finger; Zeon handled them.
With ample experience now, Zeon faced them calmly.
He unleashed every technique he'd envisioned while walking, honing his edge.
He could now execute Sand Step alongside Sand Blaster and Sand Missile simultaneously. He'd mastered other skills too.
Dayton watched with a stoic gaze.
Pew-pew-pew!
Over a dozen monsters fell to Zeon's Sand Missiles.
Ghost scorpions—lower-tier desert dwellers that hid silently in sand, striking with venomous stings.
Imperceptible until they lunged, they'd claimed countless lives. But their foe this time was mismatched.
The scorpions believed their presence perfectly concealed, yet they couldn't mask the vibrations transmitted through fine sand grains.
Splat!
No sooner had a ghost scorpion burst through the sand than its head exploded.
Dozens perished thus at Zeon's hands.
The ground was piled with shattered remains.
"Hmph."
Dayton snorted and turned away.
Still short of his expectations, but Zeon's vigilance to the end deserved praise.
Zeon never let his guard down anymore.
'Not a total lost cause.'
Relieved by the learning curve, Dayton pressed on.
Zeon caught up swiftly after clearing the scorpions, breathing steady, face impassive.
Hunting such foes was routine now.
"Huh?"
Trailing Dayton, Zeon suddenly exclaimed.
A massive rock loomed in the distance.
Such protruding boulders were rare in the desert.
In this sand-dominated world, they were precious refuges, impervious to sand-dwellers like sandworms.
Likely a fragment of a buried mountain, like the magic stone mine where Zeon once toiled.
Dayton said,
"Looks like something buried in the sand surfaced. We'll rest here tonight."
"Got it!"
They sat atop the boulder.
As if on cue, both pulled jerky from their pouches.
They chewed in silence.
Slowly, letting saliva break it down before swallowing.
Made from greater horned hyena meat, it was nutrient-dense—one piece sufficed for a day's energy.
But for the still-growing Zeon, it wasn't enough.
He took another piece and scanned the surroundings.
Sunset had yielded to encroaching darkness.
The desert fell eerily still.
Most monsters ceased activity, retreating to lairs.
Even for them, night brought peril.
Zeon now knew nocturnal hunters were the strongest.
No issue for a titan like Dayton, but survival mattered for him.
Roooar!
A massive roar shook the gloom—a nocturnal behemoth.
Zeon frowned toward the sound, far off from their rock. As long as it didn't head straight for them, no worry.
Dayton ignored it, drawing Clayon and stabbing it into the boulder.
Thud!
The blade sank into solid rock like tofu.
With Clayon planted, they conversed.
"My friend..."
Familiar as the sight was, it still unnerved Zeon. He tuned out Dayton, focusing on his gauntlet.
As a sand mage, he rarely swung it directly, so its true power eluded him.
Its subspace saw the most use.
Zeon stored usable monster parts there.
Time froze within; no environmental decay.
Perfect for indefinite preservation.
His was practically a warehouse—room to spare despite heavy use.
Cheating, really.
He caressed the circular indentation on the back of his hand.
"Mount a fire-attribute item here to amplify power, huh."
Fire-attribute evoked the Flame Drake dungeon that had swallowed Zeon.
All life there bore fire properties.
Had he known about the gauntlet, he'd have scoured for items.
"Tch!"
Regret futile, Zeon just clicked his tongue.
Then—
Roooaaar!
"Over here!"
"To that rock!"
The roar mingled with desperate human voices.
Soon, four figures pierced the dark. But their appearance was off.
Sun-bronzed brown skin, monster-hide garb—human-like, yet pointed ears and purple irises betrayed them.
"Heteromorphs?"
