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    Luke stood inside the temple chamber alongside Azazel and Vaelor. The Demon Blacksmith was deep in thought after witnessing Luke use [Wraith Form].

    “I didn’t see that coming,” Vaelor admitted.

    Luke had expected anger after the deception, but instead the demon burst into laughter and slapped him hard on the back.

    “That was a good one. I truly didn’t think of it. You’re a crafty little cheat, aren’t you?” Vaelor said, clearly amused.

    Do demons like being tricked?

    “I should’ve tried harder, used more Identification skills to dig through your system,” Vaelor went on, excitement creeping into his voice. “I never imagined you’d have a Wraith Form. When was the last time someone fooled me? A few millennia ago, at least.”

    Apparently, demons did enjoy being tricked. Or maybe it was the process that led to it. Luke realized they were like comedians. A comedian doesn’t laugh at most jokes because they already know how they’re built, where the punchline is going, long before it lands. They’re always several steps ahead of the audience. So when a joke actually makes them laugh, it means it truly surprised them. That seemed to be exactly what was happening with Vaelor.

    The demon kept laughing, replaying Luke’s trick in his mind.

    “Good thing we didn’t bet our souls,” Vaelor added.

    “Even magicians enjoy watching another magician perform,” Azazel commented casually.

    “You really did fool me,” Vaelor said, his skeletal face still smiling, though the grin slowly faded. “But I can’t believe you gambled your luck on that. With this method, the chance of death is already high for a true wraith-demon. For you, as a fake one, it’s practically guaranteed. Even so, it didn’t actually help you.”

    He shaped a chair from the stone floor and sat down. “You managed to make things worse for both of us.”

    “Either way, I earned the chance to learn your legendary technique,” Luke replied calmly. “And about the risk of dying… from what you said about hybridization, that risk was always there. The scale just tipped a bit more to one side. Being a temporary wraith-demon is at least minimally possible, isn’t it?”

    “Minimally possible?” Vaelor snapped. “Did you not understand a word I said? The moment you try to fuse with a spectral core as a false wraith, you die. And now you’ve complicated things even further. If you die, my side of the contract fails, the hammer dies with you, and I lose my chance to have an apprentice in your universe.”

    Politics was just another form of war. If Luke wanted to challenge kingdoms, he would need one of his own. And now he had the opportunity to secure the allegiance of a smith who walked the Legacy Path of the Demon Blacksmith. Not just any blacksmith, but one capable of forging true weapons of war.

    Luke wanted to be a force of war himself, but what good was that if the people of his future kingdom couldn’t defend themselves? He would make sure his realm possessed the best armaments possible, and Vaelor’s legacy would be the foundation of that strength. Maybe that was what Azazel wanted him to find here. Something to help him take a massive step toward his future conquests. Or maybe it was simply a way for him to learn how to create a second core and grow stronger.

    Perhaps it was both. Everything this place could offer him, distilled into power. And with this, Luke had secured it. Vaelor’s order of smiths would work for him, within his future kingdom.

    I don’t know if I can give the hammer to Charlie or Angie. They would never accept serving someone else, not with two masters. I’ll have to find someone else I trust.

    “So, are we starting or not?” Luke asked.

    Vaelor rose from his chair. “I’ll tell you how it’s done. But if you’re set on killing yourself, do it after you’ve found a successor for the profession. That way, I still get what I want.”


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    “The deal involved my kingdom,” Luke replied calmly. “And the stronger I am, the easier it’ll be to build it. I need this core.”

    “A deal is a deal,” Azazel said, his tone light but absolute. “Especially one mediated by the system itself.”

    “Great Sovereign, I never intended to disrespect tradition,” Vaelor said quickly.

    “I understand a great deal about hybridization and the creation of a second core,” Azazel continued. “After all… I was the one who invented it.”

    “You invented it?” Vaelor asked, genuinely startled.

    “Vaelor Vath’Ironak, you are an exceptional smith. Your weapons have aided many orders beneath my dominion. Your name is known across countless realms. I believe guiding this young demon toward you was the right choice. Now I want to see what the two of you will build together, what kind of progress you’ll make. Surprise me,” Azazel said, settling back onto the throne.

    Vaelor’s expression shifted instantly.

    “Luke Moon, if you’re going to do this, the risk is yours,” he said coldly. “But if you insist, then I’ll make sure the Spectral Beast Core we create is the finest that has ever existed. I will not tolerate imperfection.”

    “Neither will I,” Luke replied.

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