Chương 60: Agreement

"How much?" When Bren asked that question, his fingers were still hooked around the cloth wrapped over the broken spear. Rowan did not answer. He still did not know how much it should cost to repair a mana-conductive short spear in Antler Camp, nor did he know what such a spear was worth here. If he asked too little, he would look like someone who did not understand the rules at all. If he asked too much, it would seem as if he were using the fact that he had saved Bren's life to pressure him.

More importantly, what Rowan wanted right now was not money. Rowan looked at the broken spear and paused for a moment.

"Two days later," he said. Bren froze. Rowan pointed at the broken spear, then pointed at himself.

"Leave it. Two days later, come take." He spoke very slowly. Bren looked at Harg. Harg did not understand immediately either. Rowan added, "If repair fails, no money. If repaired, also no money." This time, Harg understood, but his expression became even stranger.

"You don't want money?" Rowan nodded.

"When time comes, one agreement." He looked at Bren and continued,"You can refuse." The sentence was not smooth, but the meaning was clear enough. Bren fell silent. The broken spear was wrapped in cloth, so the crack inside could not be seen. But his fingers never loosened, as if once he let go, the spear would truly become nothing more than a piece of scrap wood. Harg glanced at him and could not help saying,"You'd better record this with Taun. One of you dares to fix it, the other dares to hand it over.

If Marlock asks later, it'll be another pile of trouble." Bren said quietly, "I know." He handed the short spear over. Rowan did not snatch it directly. He opened his hand and waited for Bren to place the broken spear into his palm. When the broken spear landed in his hand, it was slightly lighter than he had expected. The middle of the shaft was cracked, and the outside was wrapped in cloth. Beneath the cloth, there was still the smell of mud beast bloodwater and wet mud from yesterday.

Bren looked at the broken spear.

"If it can't be repaired, that's fine too." It sounded as if he were trying to convince himself in advance. Rowan nodded and put the broken spear away.

"Two days later." Bren took a deep breath.

"Good." In the end, this matter was briefly recorded at the material shed. After hearing it, Taun only raised his head and glanced at Bren.

"It can still be recovered now. If it gets completely ruined, it'll only sell as scrap. Don't come looking for me when that happens." Bren nodded.

"I accept that." Taun lowered his head and flipped through the account book again, muttering,"One dares to hand it over. One dares to take it." And just like that, the matter was settled. On the first night, only a little dark-red ember remained in the brazier inside the tent. Chestnut was curled at the entrance of the tent, looking deeply asleep. Rowan sat cross-legged on the hide. The broken spear had been placed to one side. In truth, it had already been repaired. It had only taken him four hours.

That was thanks to an old wood-repair kit he had borrowed from Taun's shed, a dust-covered box that a caravan had failed to sell to the camp several years ago. Inside were several sharpened hardened bone pegs, a jar of mana-conductive bone grease, a bundle of glue-treated shrink leather cord, and a few tools. Unfortunately, no blacksmith had ever been willing to stay long-term in the camp, so the kit had gathered dust in the corner of the shed for years.

Rowan first drilled into the centers of both broken ends, embedding the hardened bone pegs deep into the two wooden cores to lock the pieces together. Then he used the glue-treated shrink leather cord to wrap the joint layer after layer. Once the leather cord dried and tightened, combined with the bone pegs, the physical resistance to bending was steadier than the original wood. Rowan used the fine scraper from the kit to slowly clean away the splintered wood fibers inside the fracture.

Then he lifted a drop of viscous, glossy mana-conductive bone grease and filled the gap with precision. Before the bone grease hardened, he used Mental Power for fine control, drawing a thin needle along the direction of the mana flow and pulling a smooth branch path through the filled section. The bone grease dried. The broken layer was fully reconnected. The mana-conductive structure inside the short spear was even simpler than he had expected. It was not like a complete magic tool.

It was closer to a basic mana-conductive circuit plus a single sharpness pattern. It did not store much mana, nor was it responsible for casting spells. It simply sent the faint mana input by the user as steadily as possible to the spear tip. Crude. Durable. For Rowan, who had taken practical armament-pattern classes at Westpoint Magitech High School, this structure was not difficult. He did not make major changes. He only reconnected the pattern and stabilized the flow. Rowan did not rush to return it.

He tested it several times, then left it overnight. Only after confirming that the pattern at the break did not become damp or crack again did he set it aside. The short spear was only the first part of the agreement. Rowan closed his eyes. [Lancer Mana Channeling Art] slowly unfolded inside his body. The first mana vortex was already rotating steadily around his Source Crystal Core. The second vortex had only been a rough shape before, like a ring of water barely held down by Mental Power.

If he loosened his control even slightly, it would scatter. Now, although the outer ring of Antler Camp could not be called safe, it was much more stable than the depths of the mana-beast forest. Natural mana slowly flowed into his body from all around him. Following the pathway of [Lancer Mana Channeling Art], it was drawn bit by bit toward the crystal core. Rowan used his Mental Power to press down on the edge of the second vortex. One circle. Two circles.

When the third circle took shape, a faint vibration suddenly came from deep inside the crystal core. The second mana vortex finally stabilized. The speed at which mana entered the crystal core noticeably increased. But Rowan did not become especially excited. As his mana pool drew closer to the peak of Tier 1 Single-Phase, he could feel the absorption resistance becoming more obvious. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

When he had been at seven-tenths, mana flowed into the pool like water. Now that he was approaching eight-tenths, every step forward felt like forcing water into an already swollen skin bag. Without [Lancer Mana Channeling Art], his cultivation speed would already have dropped noticeably. With two mana vortices rotating at the same time, the speed was pulled back to its previous level, and even slightly improved. Tier 1 Single-Phase. Eight-tenths. The final two-tenths would not be easy.

Rowan slowly opened his eyes. Several hours had already passed. After his Mental Power withdrew from the crystal core, only the faint glow of the brazier's embers remained inside the tent. The short spear lay quietly on the hide. On the other side were the mud beast neck tendon, cracked teeth, tough hide, bone powder, and a Tier 1 mana crystal from the Iron-Feather Gale Hawk. Rowan looked at the materials and picked up his tools again. The broken spear had already been repaired.

But what he truly wanted Bren to test was not that spear. In the fragmented scroll of [Flesh Armament Art], aside from the Bone-Flesh Blade, there were several other low-tier armament blueprints. The Bone-Flesh Blade had proved that this path could work, but the first trial piece had shattered thoroughly. Its strengths were obvious, and its flaws were just as obvious. The Tendon-Cord Crossbow was different. It did not rely on releasing a blood blade outward, nor did it pursue continuous close-combat load-bearing.

Its core lay in tendon cords, bone channels, and mana-crystal enchantment. The crossbow itself was responsible for firing. The real cost was ammunition. The blueprint noted that ordinary bone could not withstand the compression at the instant of firing. Mortal-grade bone spikes would shatter directly inside the rear channel. To fire steadily, the crossbow needed at least near-Tier 1 complete bone material. True Tier 1 bone material would work better, but the cost would also be higher.

Rowan spent most of the day completing the first Tendon-Cord Crossbow. The mud beast neck tendon served as the main cord. Part of the cracked tooth ring was carved into the bite-trigger mechanism. Tough hide was attached to both sides of the crossbow arms to prevent the tendon cord from tearing through the bone frame when it snapped back. Bone powder mixed with resin filled the armament-pattern grooves.

The Tier 1 mana crystal was embedded at the rear of the crossbow body, responsible for triggering and pressure stabilization. The completed Tendon-Cord Crossbow was slightly larger than an ordinary hand crossbow. Its overall color was gray-white, with dark red tendon lines wrapped around both crossbow arms. It did not look clean and sharp like a Terra weapon. Instead, it resembled a piece of mana-beast bone that had been tamed. Rowan fitted a processed gray-white bone spike into the rear channel.

When the bone spike entered the slot, the tendon cord inside the crossbow body tightened slightly. As if something were breathing. For the first test shot, he did not aim at a living target. He nailed a piece of mud beast tough hide to a wooden post, with two layers of wet wood behind it. Mana input. Trigger bite. The neck tendon contracted abruptly. Whoosh. The bone spike shot out from the crossbow channel, pierced through the mud beast tough hide, and sank half an inch into the wet wood behind it.

Rowan walked forward and pulled out the bone spike. The front end of the bone spike had already cracked. The power was enough. So was the cost. Rowan looked at the cracked bone spike and quickly made a judgment. This was not a weapon suited for ordinary hunters to fire carelessly. It was more suitable for breaking defense, interrupting, or finishing off a target at a critical moment. For a full-fledged mage, it was not high-end. For low-tier guards and mortal hunting teams, it might be exactly enough.

Over the next two days, Aila came several times. Each time, she brought something to eat. Sometimes it was dried meat. Sometimes roasted root chunks. Once, it was some kind of dried cheese from an unknown beast. At first, Chestnut would look at Rowan before eating. Later, it had learned to sniff first, then decide whether to eat. Anything it did not want to eat, it pushed aside. Anything it had eaten halfway, it also pushed aside, then remembered it later and continued chewing.

Rowan looked at the few pieces of dried meat scattered in the corner of the tent, then looked at Chestnut's body rising and falling as it curled into a ball. He suddenly had a suspicion. Had it gotten fatter? Chestnut seemed to sense his gaze. Its tail slowly shifted and covered the front of its belly. Rowan did not expose it. When Aila came, Rowan did not waste the chance. He used every conversation to learn Gardian. Aila corrected his pronunciation again and again.

The AR recorded pronunciation, context, and corresponding objects again and again. By dusk on the second day, Rowan could already speak some very short sentences. Still stiff. But much better than only throwing out single words at the beginning. When the agreed time arrived, Bren came. White cloth was still wrapped around his neck, and his left leg was still a little stiff, but his condition was much better than two days ago. Harg also came, with freshly gathered herbs hanging from his back.

As he patted mud from his boots, he said,"I came to watch the fun too."

"Antler Camp has no blacksmith. When a weapon breaks, you either wait for a caravan or sell it as scrap." Harg glanced at Bren and continued twisting the knife.

"That's how he lost his last short spear. The caravan bought it like a firewood stick. He felt bad for half a month."

"Harg." Bren could not help speaking.

"Fine, fine. I'll stop." Harg waved his hand. Aila also followed over, standing a little farther away. She had mainly come to see Chestnut. Rowan handed the short spear to Bren. Bren accepted it very gently. The fracture had already been treated. The outside was wrapped with a ring of leather cord, and beneath it were several fine patterns pressed down into place. Bren gripped the spear shaft. He took a deep breath and slowly injected mana.

The mana-conductive pattern on the short spear first lit up in a small section. Then the light extended along the shaft and finally gathered at the spear tip. A shallow layer of sharp light appeared at the tip. He tried adding a little more mana. The light at the spear tip strengthened slightly, but remained stable.

"It's fixed." He said quietly. Harg raised an eyebrow.

"Really the same as before?" Not far away, Taun had appeared at the entrance of the material shed at some point. He looked over from a distance, his tone still stiff.

"Not the same. More stable than before." Harg laughed.

"That wasn't your tone yesterday." Taun pretended not to hear and turned away, walking toward the central tent of the camp. Rowan looked at the way Bren held the spear and suddenly asked,"Your mana... always this little?" The sentence was not fluent. But the meaning was clear. The smile on Bren's face slowly faded. Harg also went quiet. After a while, Bren spoke.

"You heard what Marlock said before." He looked at the short spear in his hand.

"I'm not a true Tier 1 Mage. I'm Broken-Phase." Rowan did not respond. Bren continued, "I failed the first time I etched a Source Rune. If not for a priest's divine spell, I would already be dead." He spoke slowly. As if he were describing something he had already told many times, yet still felt uncomfortable every time he said it.

"One face of my crystal core is damaged. Even if I can continue etching the other faces in the future, I can reach three phases at most." Bren lowered his head and watched the faint light on the short spear slowly fade. His mana was already exhausted.

"Tier 2 is something I can never hope for." Aila said softly, "Uncle Bren is already very strong." Bren looked at her. Aila blinked and said seriously,"For mortals like us, we don't even know when we'll be able to etch our first Source Rune. You can already follow the hunting team beyond the outer ring." Bren opened his mouth, but in the end he only smiled.

"Only you would say that."

"I'm telling the truth." Rowan listened quietly, but his attention had already fully shifted to the phrase "a priest's divine spell." Broken-Phase. He had never heard that word before, but from Bren's words, he could already piece together its outline. A failed rune etching could actually be kept from causing death through divine spell. A priest's divine spell could pull someone back from the edge of Source Crystal Core collapse. But the price was damage to one face of the crystal core.

There would still be a chance to etch other faces later, but the possibility of advancing fully into Tier 2 was gone forever. This was not being crippled completely. But the upper limit had been cut away. The divine spells of this world were becoming more and more interesting to him. Rowan turned around and took the Tendon-Cord Crossbow out from the tent. Everyone's gaze immediately fell on it. Bren looked at the gray-white strange crossbow and frowned.

"What is this?" Rowan placed the Tendon-Cord Crossbow on the wooden table.

"Agreement." He pointed at the short spear in Bren's hand.

"Short spear, repaired free." Then he pointed at the Tendon-Cord Crossbow.

"This too, free for you to use." Harg froze.

"You're giving him another weapon?" Rowan shook his head.

"Not giving. Lending." He worked hard to organize the words in Gardian.

"You use. Hunting, guarding. Extra materials gained by using it, two-tenths to me." The sentence was too complicated. Harg listened with a frown for a while, then restated it for him.

"He means this thing is still his. Bren can use it. Whether you go on missions or hunt, if this crossbow lets you gain extra harvest, you split two-tenths with him. If there's no extra harvest, you don't need to pay." Rowan nodded and added,"If broken, bring back. Cannot dismantle." Harg continued translating.

"If it breaks, you must bring it back. You can't take it apart privately." Rowan thought for a moment, then said,"Also tell me, good or not good." Harg said, "And when you come back, you have to tell him what works well and what doesn't." Bren looked at the Tendon-Cord Crossbow and did not answer immediately. The short spear being repaired had already exceeded his expectations. Now Rowan had taken out something clearly more complicated and said Bren could borrow it first.

Harg glanced at Bren and said quietly,"You can refuse." Bren remained silent for a long time. Finally, he asked,"Can I try it?" Rowan nodded. They did not go outside the camp gate. Behind the material shed, they found a thick wooden post in the open space and nailed a piece of processed mud beast tough hide onto it. Rowan fitted a bone spike into the crossbow channel.

"Here. Input mana." He pointed at the mana crystal node at the rear of the crossbow body. Bren carefully accepted the Tendon-Cord Crossbow. The crossbow was much heavier than the short spear, and holding it felt somewhat awkward. He slowly injected mana. The dark red tendon lines inside the Tendon-Cord Crossbow tightened faintly. Bren's expression changed.

"It's moving."

"Normal," Rowan said. Harg stood beside them and instinctively took a step back.

"You're sure that's normal?" Chestnut lay not far away, extending a small head from its curled-up ball. Bren aimed at the wooden post. The trigger pressed down. The bone spike shot out. Whoosh. The mud beast tough hide was pierced straight through. The bone spike nailed into the wooden post behind it, its tail still trembling slightly. Bren held the Tendon-Cord Crossbow and said nothing for a long time. Harg walked over to take a look and could not help cursing.

"If this thing had been in your hands yesterday, that mud beast would've lost a leg before it reached the gate." Bren looked at the bone spike in the wooden post. His eyes changed. This was a real weapon that could make him different from ordinary mortals. He turned his head.

"I accept." The trade was made. Over the next half day, the news quickly spread. Not because Rowan advertised it. But because Bren took the Tendon-Cord Crossbow to the outer-ring hunting trail. He did not go far. He only followed two hunters to clear out mortal-grade mana-beasts and swamp snakes near the camp. When he returned at dusk, everyone in the outer ring saw it. Bren's hide bag was much fuller than usual. One swamp snake. Two Mana-Mutated Saber-Rabbits. And a relatively intact back carapace.

As Harg unloaded his herbs, he looked at the things in Bren's bag with an expression as complicated as if he had just swallowed a sour fruit.

"Did you go hunting, or did you find someone's overturned cart?" Bren's face carried the joy of a harvest. He placed the Tendon-Cord Crossbow on the wooden table, his voice still a little floating.

"Not every shot hits." He said,"Bone spikes are expensive too." But the smile on his face could not be stopped. Several hunters immediately gathered around.

"Let me see."

"This is a crossbow?"

"Why does it look so scary?"

"Bren, you really used this to punch through a swamp snake's head?" Bren was a little uncomfortable being surrounded. But watching everyone gather around the Tendon-Cord Crossbow, he could not help feeling a little proud. Rowan stood beside the tent and watched the scene. The first batch of results was enough. The Tendon-Cord Crossbow was not a divine artifact. It consumed ammunition, loaded slowly, and had a minimum mana requirement for its user.

But for a place like Antler Camp, it was enough to give a Broken-Phase guard one more chance to decide the fight before close combat began. That was value. And value would speak for itself. As the sun was about to set, the crowd suddenly quieted a little. Sera walked over from the direction of the camp gate. Marlock followed behind her. Sera first looked at the short spear in Bren's hand. Then at the Tendon-Cord Crossbow on the wooden table. Finally, she looked at Rowan.

"Rowan." She did not speak quickly.

"We should talk."