The Ruined Death Knight

Hearing out Azrael and his request, Danzel sighted before nodding his head.

"Fine, I will do it. But don't expect that I will finish them any time soon. I will have to undergo some tests with other pieces before I am confident to make a decent rune. Counting the fact that your sister and Sartan also requested stuff from me, it might take me months to come in your request." Danzel said before taking the items to the table inside his storage ring.

"What item did Vanessa ask you to work on..." Azrael said with a serious voice.

"It's her artifact, that black armor." Danzel answered while putting the small box in his ring too.

"I see...thanks for hearing out her request. By any chance, you know what runes you will carve in that artifact."

Seeing him frown with a serious voice, Danzel fell confused by his sudden change of temper. The way he talked was as if he said that he will strip his sister by himself.

Something that he wasn't interested in at all for multiple reasons.

The biggest one was that he still had the will to live.

Going against a 4th-tier such as Vanessa was suicide after all!

"...I am planning to simple carve runes that enchant the artifacts defense and nothing more."

"I see..." Azrael said with a face that told one that he was half convinced.

Seeing that, Danzel quickly changed the topic.

"By the way, I might be able to carve better runes into that spear of yours. Since its size changed, I might be able to squeeze one more rune. Maybe I could also replace the runes with better versions of them."

Looking at the whittled Bloodthirster that was resting on the wall and then at Danzel, Azrael's face became skeptical.

"If you are able to make it happend, I would really be glad. But why are you bringing it up suddenly?" Azrael said.

He looked at Danzel as if he was some skezi man offering free candy to a child.

They must be strings attached!

"Hah! I can clearly see what you are thinking, but I won't be expecting to be paid or gain your favor for doing this! I know the worth of those magic scrolls and I simply want to repay you for giving me those scrolls. Moreover, the new rune that I plan to carve in the whittled spear will be the same as Sartan's halbert, a rune that increased the efficiency of mana. So once I finished his weapon, I will also be able to improve your weapon. At most, it will an hour or two to finish it."

"You can consider it as the pride of a runesmith wanting to deliver the best runes in a weapon that is going to be wielded by a 4th-tier." Danzel said, trying his best to mimic Gerak's enthusiasm when he was talking about smithing to him.

"Is that so...?" Azrael said in doubt.

"That's indeed how it is." Danzel said.

When in truth he was full of other intentions.

But that didn't mean that he completely lied to Azrael's face.

He indeed felt gratitude for gaining the magic scrolls, even if they had an equal exchange. But it wasn't to the level where he was willing to offer additional service for free. He also didn't feel as extreme as he described with the pride of a runesmith.

He liked carving runes and doing so in a better quality weapon did indeed feel better than carving runes in second-rate weapons, that was the truth. But he didn't feel anything of particular when someone was wielding an item with his runes.

Though he loved carving runes in items that he would be using, it brought a certain excitement and a feeling of being rewarded with his craft. And this feeling wasn't the same as when he made runed weapons for someone else.

Blacksmiths and other kinds of craftsmen might find joy in making a masterpiece for a master warrior, but that might be because they couldn't use their items themselves to their fullest potential. Making them transfer their inner wish to others.

Danzel wasn't sure if every other craftsman had such a mindset, but Gerak, the dwarf blacksmith did.

And in mixing pieces of truth in his lie while acting with references in mind, Danzel was sure that he hid his true intention from Azrael.

His true goal was to find out what sort of process the whittled Bloodthirster had undergone to change so much.

The longer he looked, the more he realized how impressive Azrael was.

Of course, the bigger a weapon, the more space there is to carve and spread the stress in the weapon from the runes. But the most noticeable change in the spear was the level of stress that it had to withstand increased.

The previous spots near the runes that had a red light now looked like a yellow color with hints of red color, where the more bright areas of yellow became green.

If he were to be clever with it, he might fit a major rune together with another minor rune.

That was a huge improvement considering a weapon.

And Danzel was eager to find the cause of the changes in hopes to replicate the effect in his weapon.

While he didn't want to make his sword or shield any bigger, tempering his weapon only would be a huge achievement and a source that will further empower him.

After all, the more runes the better!

'As far as I know, Azrael is more of the magic caster type while also being experienced in alchemy. I doubt someone like him is proficient with blacksmithing to achieve such an effect. Maybe in the future, I will have to learn alchemy if that's how it's done if it's alchemy at all...'

'Dammit, if it weren't for the strength difference between us two, I would even check using my status. All it would take slapping him once or shaking his head to see through all his abilities.' Danzel lammed internally.

"As it has been decided, I will come to pick up the whittled spear once I even finished Sartan's halbert."

"If that's the case, I will have to trouble you with it, Danzel." Azrael said while slowly nodding his head, still feeling a bit odd.

Turning his back on him, Danzel walked towards the door.

Once he was about to leave, Azrael called out.

"You said that you wouldn't expect anything from me. But I will return this favor..."

Deciding not to say anything, Danzel simply left the room, leaving the gray dark elve "alone" in his room.

"..."

Walking around his desk that was the house of a mess of papers laying randomly with crimson ink that resembled blood.

"That was unexpected..." Azrael mumbled as he picked a few papers and started screening them.

"An unconditional favor, is it? It's laughable." Azrael said while putting the papers to the side and picking up the whittled bloodthirster that was resting at the wall.

'To think that the second person that will give me something unconditional except my sister will be yet another undead.' He thought to himself.

Azrael was someone that strongly believed that in life, there was no such thing as a free meal. He never believed in kindness. One's actions had always a meaning and a goal behind them after all. Not even the kindness of possing the same blood was to be trusted.

In fact, the latter was the most dangerous kindness of them all.

Once ones lose sight of the goal and the meaning of that kindness directed upon you, his judgment is bound to be clouded.

And once the suppose unconditional kindness becomes to be an expected exchange of 'equal' value for their kindness, only misery awaited them.

As someone who was able to see through this twisted kindness and act upon it, he knew.

Only those with different blood could be judged wholely by their actions and actions alone.

Be it blood relatives or not.

One true family can be chosen by their actions alone

Just like his sister.

"Heh, to think that the death with no blood in their veins will be better than the living." He said with a smile on his face.

Raising the whittled bloodthirster up in the air, the spear soon started to shake.

And not long after, the orb that fused the spearhead (that was double-edged) and the shaft started to glow in a light red color.

"What do you think?" Azrael said, seemingly to the air.

But suddenly, in the middle of the orb, a burst of dark and orange light appears. Forming a vertical eye similar to that of a dragon.

The pupil that was of a dark color seemed like an endless abyss that tried to pull others in, whereas the orange light of the iris seemed like a closer look at the sun. Burning fiercely with killing intent and thirst for what it was named.

Blood.

The eye inside the orb looked throughout the room with incredible speed, stopping at Azrael for a moment before staring at the door where Danzel had left.