Chương 393: Chapter 382 - A Featureless God

"Now you're looking a bit more proper," Gregor said with a broad, satisfied grin as he looked Alonso up and down. And Alonso had to admit… the old man was right. Grade 02 - Hedge Lord's Pauldrons Tempering State: 4 Physical aptitude +2. 8% Pillar aptitude +2. 8% Internal EM conduction +4. 2% Grade 02 - Moss Knight's Chestguard Tempering State: 5 (MAX) Physical aptitude +3% Pillar aptitude +3% Gear resistance to external EM +4. 5% Grade 02 - Hedge Lord's Armguards Tempering State: 4 Physical aptitude +2.

8% Pillar aptitude +2. 8% Internal EM conduction +4. 2% Grade 02 - Greyforge Waistguard Tempering State: 5 (MAX) Physical aptitude +3% Pillar aptitude +3% Gear conduction to own EM +4. 5% Grade 02 - Greyforge Legplates Tempering State: 5 (MAX) Physical aptitude +3% Pillar aptitude +3% Gear conduction to own EM +4. 5% Grade 02 - Hedge Lord's Boots Tempering State: 5 (MAX) Physical aptitude +3% Pillar aptitude +3% Internal EM conduction +4. 5% Alonso looked over himself, taking in the new armour piece by piece.

The gauntlets fit smoothly along his forearms. The chestguard sat snug and solid, its faint moss-green etchings giving it a worn, seasoned look. Some pieces were mismatched in colour and design, but the overall look blended surprisingly well. He looked like a fantasy knight who had pieced together his set through battles rather than coin. It suited him more than he thought it would. Even so, the sight felt strange. Metal plates, conductive alloys. This was not his style.

The last time he had worn metal armour, a three-tail Xok'al had nearly crushed him with it. Hardly a fond memory. However, for the Fusion States, the one the natives called the Knight's Way, only conductive metal gear carried the right affixes. If he wanted to progress properly, he would have to adapt. Losing any of these affixes would be a waste. Every bit of efficiency mattered at his level. He wondered if there might be a workaround later.

Something that preserved his preferred fighting style without compromises. Gregor had explained the logic behind the drops in low-tier Dungeons. There were twelve in this part of the Kingdom of Brithelm, here in what the locals simply called the West. Each Dungeon Boss dropped a full set of seven pieces, six armor and one weapon, all sharing the same affixes. The pattern was not random. They were grouped along the three paths: Body, Pillar, and Fusion. For those who walked the Fusion path, a. k.

a the Knight's Way, the affixes were: Gear conduction to own EM Gear resistance to external EM waves Internal EM conduction Mind resistance to external EM interference The last one was something he felt almost completely unnecessary. Not with Houston and Darius guarding his mind. Even Chiara had been severely pushed back the moment she tried to intervene. Mental attacks were the least of his concerns. Gear resistance to external EM waves, however, was an unexpected blessing.

It seemed to be the designed countermeasure for Knight-type fighters when battling Pillar path practitioners, preventing their own armour from becoming a conductor against them. In his case, since he normally fought without metal armour and could guard his blades well, this affix had not been relevant. Now it mattered. Gear conduction to his own EM waves was workable too. It could help with his blades, and now with his whole armour as well, making it a solid affix in its own right.

But the best affix for him, by far, was Internal EM conduction. It amplified his acceleration, responsiveness, and micro-control by feeding straight into his microcapacitors. It was the same affix his blades from Jack carried, and for a moment he had genuinely believed those swords had been tailor-made for him. In truth, the affix was simply common on Fusion gear. The swords, however, were not. Gregor had explained that Jack's drop had the unique catch of always taking the form of the weapon used to defeat him.

He studied the armour one last time. All things considered, he would have preferred a full Hedge Lord's set. The Guild store did not have all the pieces in stock, though, so he had to make do with what was available. Being honest, he was in no position to complain. He was actually quite grateful to Gregor. Grinding all these pieces would have taken at least six low-tier Dungeon runs, since only bosses dropped Grade 2 gear. And that was assuming he never received duplicates, like two pauldrons or two boots.

He had originally thought that constant Dungeon runs would not be much of an issue. The entry fee was easily recovered from the loot, and a full clear barely took fifteen minutes. Then he learned about the restriction. After leaving a Dungeon, one could not enter it again for the next seven days. At first he assumed it was a rule imposed by the local authorities, but it turned out to be something else entirely. It was a baked-in mechanic of the world itself.

In other words, a restriction imposed by The Tower itself. This made gear grinding… far more complicated. The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Sure, they had more than thirty Climbers, but how many could clear a Dungeon right now? Perhaps one more group of seven—Leonhard, Robert, Stephen, Madelaine, and a few others—but not many beyond that. He would have to discuss this with the others and consider a solution.

Relying only on their main team would take far too long to gear everyone up. Alonso exhaled and set the problem aside for later thought. He turned toward Gregor and gave a slight bow.

"Many thanks." Gregor nodded.

"Think nothing of it. You will outgrow this gear sooner than you think. Just remember not to delay tackling mid-tier Dungeons for too long. Once you feel ready, come find me and I will help arrange everything."

"I appreciate it," Alonso replied.

"Good. For now, explore, settle down, get your bearings. If you need help with housing, contact this man." Gregor sent a light EM pulse containing a name, a face, and a signature.

"I will let him know to expect you. One more thing—since you are clearly new here, be sure to register with the Mayor within the next two days. Saves you trouble with the Baron." Alonso nodded. After a casual farewell, he stepped out of the Guild's storage room and made his way down the stairs. The Guild hall felt warmer now, alive with the soft bustle of voices and clattering mugs. A few adventurers glanced at him, then paused, their eyes widening. Their posture changed at once. Respectful nods.

A touch of wariness. The contrast with his arrival was almost amusing. It seemed the EM field woven into the silver token was easy for others to sense, making his rank unmistakable. Convenient. He could always mask it using Path of Shards if necessary, but it was wiser to keep it visible most of the time. This was a world where power was authority made manifest, and the strong enjoyed smoother roads. He intended to make use of every advantage available.

He offered the adventurers a polite nod in return, then stepped outside. The air felt crisp and clear, touched by sunlight. A perfect day, honestly. He adjusted the straps on his new armour and glanced down the street. He wondered what the others were up to. ***" That's a rather odd representation of a god," Lukas transmitted to Chiara, keeping his tone light as they slowed their steps. They stood before the town's church, a structure carved from pale stone that caught the afternoon light in muted hues.

Its architecture was unmistakably old, thick walls and narrow arched windows. Lines of faintly polished inlays curved along the façade, guiding the eye upward toward the central carving. At the heart of it stood a statue. It depicted an androgynous figure, tall and slender, carved without a single facial feature. No eyes. No mouth. No nose. Just a smooth, blank surface where a face should have been. The body was human in proportion, neither masculine nor feminine, arms held slightly apart as if caught mid-motion.

Beneath its feet, curved lines spiralled upward like steps made of stone and air, lifting the figure toward a star suspended above its head. The star was carved separately, set just far enough from the statue to create a sense of motion, as though the figure were eternally ascending toward it. The effect was strange. Inviting, yet distant."

If we use Earth's history as reference," Lukas continued, his gaze lingering on the faceless form, " most belief systems moved from animal spirits and mythic beasts to human-like gods. Faces, expressions, stories. The more human the deity looked, the easier it was for people to relate to it. To feel seen." He tilted his head slightly." And here they seem to go the opposite way. A human shape stripped of every feature that could make it familiar."

Chiara studied the statue in silence, her mind already running through patterns and parallels. A god without a face could not judge, could not smile, could not rage. Or perhaps it simply reflected whatever the observer projected onto it." It does not invite identification," she replied." It invites alignment." They moved past the statue and through the slightly open, heavy wooden doors. The interior of the church was dim, lit by soft shafts of light filtering through high windows of coloured glass.

The air was cool and carried the faint scent of stone and old incense. Wooden benches lined the nave, worn smooth by generations of use. At first glance it resembled a typical medieval church, simple and austere. Then slowly, they noticed the anomalies.

Several stone arches near the ceiling did not connect to any visible support. They hovered in place, suspended a short distance from the walls. Thin stone rings floated above the central aisle, rotating slowly, their motion smooth and constant. No circuitry. No visible energy conduits. Her perception sharpened. This was not automation. This was sustained control. Her awareness brushed against a presence at the far end of the hall. It was calm, expansive, and measured. A strong EM domain, but not an aggressive one.

It touched them briefly, like a hand checking the temperature of water, then receded. A man sat near the altar, robed in simple grey cloth. He looked neither old nor young, his hair streaked with white and his posture relaxed. His eyes met theirs for a brief moment. He smiled, warm and unassuming, and gave them a small nod before looking elsewhere. Chiara stared at the man, but only for an instant, careful not to draw attention. She scanned the rest of the church.

Half a dozen locals sat on the wooden benches, eyes closed. They were not kneeling, nor had their hands pressed together. Instead, their arms rested loosely at their sides, palms open and facing forward, bodies still in a posture closer to meditation than prayer. As Chiara focused further, she noticed something else. They were actively emitting EM waves. The emissions were faint and localised, all directed toward a structure at the far end of the hall.

One that the relaxed, middle-aged priest seemed to be overseeing. Her attention shifted to the structure itself. It was carved from highly conductive materials, close to superconductive by her estimate, and embedded with strange capacitors capable of storing a remarkable amount of charge. The form depicted the same featureless god they had seen outside, smaller now, yet more refined.

It glowed softly, arcs of energy drifting around it in slow motion, creating the illusion of ascension, as if it were reaching toward the heavens. Chiara analysed the pattern and felt a spark of admiration. The system was elegant. The so-called prayers were not miracles at all, but coordinated energy input. The effect was created collectively. Smart. But that raised another question. Her gaze returned to the priest. If the structure was the focus, then the man had to be the anchor.

Either absorbing excess charge or actively maintaining the pattern himself. How exactly was he doing that? Chiara exchanged a glance with Lukas as she transmitted her findings." Ingenious, and rather fitting," Lukas replied privately." In any case, we might as well sit and send a few pulses ourselves. Leaving without doing so could come off as disrespectful." Chiara frowned slightly. The idea of praying to some random god, or any god at all, did not appeal to her in the slightest.

Still, she agreed that keeping a low profile was the wiser choice. She sat down beside Lukas, and the two of them mirrored the posture of the locals.

Chiara closed her eyes and released a standardised EM pulse, matching the pattern she had observed, directing it toward the god-shaped superconductor. The moment she did, something answered. A wave brushed against her awareness, gentle but unmistakably present." What brings you here, my child?"