Every item in the awakened forge was patiently waiting for Dallion to start work. It had been over two hours since he entered with enough sky silver ingots to make anything his mind could desire short of a carriage. Yet, not only hadn’t he struck any piece of metal once, but he hadn’t even set up the furnace. Instead, he just sat there, thinking.

An invitation to go to Linatol. As a provincial capital, the city was second only to the imperial capital itself. Granted, the Wetie province was the least prosperous of the seven provinces, but it still was a level exceeding any other city Dallion had visited. However, it wasn’t the city that had made Dallion awestruck, but the people in it. March hadn’t openly said who their patron was, but Dallion knew it was the archduke himself.

You’ve overthinking it as usual, dear boy, Nil said. More than likely you won’t even see the archduke. Some minor noble from his family would give you the instructions. And that’s only if you’re lucky. There’s every chance that an awakened servant acts as a go-between.

Easy for you to say, Dallion said.

The empire had a total of eight provinces, eight of which were controlled by an archduke. While in their domain, their authority was equal to that of the emperor himself, not to mention that the rumors were that their awakened powers weren’t that far off. In Nerosal, everyone trembled at the strength of Countess Priscord, but compared to the archduke, she was like a kitten that had barely learned how to make use of its claws. And then there was the matter of the swords themselves.

When he had reached the final temple of the one at the Icepicker guild, he had found a crown containing two skill stones. One was the zoology gem that Dallion had used, but the other was missing. That one was supposed to give the person who claimed it mastery over plants—herbology skills—which coincidentally was related to strange behavior of crops that was taking place throughout the continent right now.

Vihrogon, Dallion said. What do you think?

What do you want me to say? The dryad guardian replied.

Ages ago, the dryad had been a sword marshal—one who had led armies, and also condemned millions of his own kind to life within the sword. Originally, they were meant to remain there only for a while, until the war was over, but the Star had betrayed all. As a result, the entire dryad race had been banished to the awakened realms, and all those within the swords were all but forgotten. Since then, Vihrogon had spent his existence as a companion guardian in an armadil shield.

Do you think someone might have obtained another of the twi-crowns? Dallion pressed on.

It’s possible, though unlikely. It takes someone with empathy to sense the crown, even if they know about it. Besides, there’s no guarantee that the gems are intact.

There’s no reason to think they aren’t…

Dallion stood up and looked at the furnace. He had come here to get his mind off things and make a new dartbow. So far, he hadn’t achieved either of those things. In the past, he would have kept on drowning in his doubt. Now, though, he knew exactly what to do. Unfortunately, he wasn’t going to like it.

The entire forge and everything around it disappeared out of existence as Dallion entered his awakening realm. This was the world that represented everything he represented, from traits and skills to hidden fears locked up in some hidden corner of it. The only way to move on and increase his hidden power was to complete the awakened trials by defeating those fears. However, in the last few months, that had become a lot more difficult.

A blue rectangle glowed in the middle of a stonehenge on top of a cliff overseeing an azure sea. Three towers were visible there, along with a silver bridge connecting one of them to an island a short distance away.

Back on Earth, Dallion would have dreamed of going to such a tropical paradise. Here, he could do so any time he chose, which was becoming less and less frequent. Being a hunter, he had spent more time in the real world and the items of weapons he made and repaired. All in all, he had visited the realm less than three dozen times in the last three months, each time to attempt to level up.

Taking a moment for his eyes to adjust to the bright sun, Dallion then tapped the rectangle. It spun around, revealing his current traits.

The numbers were quite good, although he would have appreciated the perception being slightly higher. When it came to hunting, that seemed to be the most valuable trait of all.

“They haven’t changed since last time,” a voice identical to Dallion’s said.

Standing a few steps away was a copy of Dallion, only with slightly paler skin and perfectly white hair and eyebrows—one of his echoes. Dallion had created it using his awakened powers, back when his level was in the forties. The entity shared most of his skills and abilities, though not his health. Also, it was able to read Dallion’s thoughts as they occurred.