Our Family Has Fallen-Chapter 655 - 391: Fleshcrafting_2

Fortunately, its power was weakened by the interruption, and with the increased distance, most people were only affected by the dissipating force.

But even so, many of the injured soldiers fell into despair, still appearing dazed, with no telling when they would recover.

Awe of the Extraordinary is justified; not everyone can dismiss it as easily as he did.

Not to mention that Geralt had charged into the midst of the Heretics alone and emerged unscathed.

It can only be said that a truly skilled fighter does not always receive the acclaim they deserve.

"This is what I should do," Geralt said, feeling slightly embarrassed by Lance's enthusiastic response.

Since he had accepted the task, he would do his utmost to complete it; this was his creed.

Honestly, compared to his own accomplishments, he was more amazed by the power that had burst forth from the soldiers who held the defensive line and drove the Heretics from the outpost.

"Enough about that! I'm adding more to the pay. You and Junia get an extra forty each, bringing your total to fifty each," Lance declared.

Geralt couldn't help but marvel at such a straightforward employer who would increase the pay without hesitation, and by such a substantial amount.

The two of them had accepted this seven-day guard mission for a total payment of ten Gold Coins, meaning five Gold Coins each. Now, the pay had increased dramatically.

"Here, Junia, this is yours, and this is for Geralt," Lance said. He wasn't short on money and immediately pulled out two bags of Gold Coins to settle the payment on the spot.

The sheer weight of the Gold Coins, heavy enough to require both hands to hold, left Junia still in a daze.

However, Geralt sensed something amiss. The money in his bag seemed to far exceed the twenty-five Gold Coins he had anticipated, and he immediately voiced his confusion.

"Isn't this too much money?" he inquired.

"I haven't miscalculated, have I? For the two of you, if we take a base of ten and add forty, that makes fifty each, right?"

Lance's casual remark nearly shattered Geralt's composure.

Was this the difference in mindset between himself and a wealthy man?

But Lance wasn't concerned. He was wealthy, but not a fool. Geralt and Junia's performance had indeed been crucial and definitely warranted this price.

Besides, this venture had been quite profitable for him, so Lance didn't mind spending this extra money.

"Leave this to me. You two go and rest," Lance said.

Once he sent them away, the two wooden chests carefully guarded by Geralt were opened, revealing their contents to Lance.

A large, irregular chunk of Flesh nearly filled one chest, releasing a foul stench the moment it was uncovered.

Exposed, charred-black bones were haphazardly entangled in the molten muscle, and the burnt outer layer had cracked, revealing fresh, new Flesh within the crevices that seemed to still be alive.

The other chest contained an arm, only its upper half discernible. The forearm and palm had grown together with a strange Magic Wand, its fleshy veins connecting to a closed eyeball.

A clear boundary existed between the withered arm and the Magic Wand, yet they were fused as if firmly grasped together.

The bizarre nature of these two objects made it no wonder they needed to be kept isolated and guarded by Geralt.

Lance frowned as he looked at these two items. Do these things even have any research value?

Perhaps, but this is definitely not an area I should get involved in.

Precisely because he understood the bizarre nature of his ancestors' powers, Lance didn't want others to come into contact with these things. So, he simply reached out and sacrificed both items.

The mass of Flesh, into which the monster had dissolved amidst fierce flames, was swallowed by the Void. The returned gift was a trace of the Power of Flesh and Blood, along with a large amount of Spiritual Essence.

Lance wasn't surprised by this; he had sacrificed such 'Seeds' before.

But when it came to the next item, something unusual happened.

As the Void's power surged forth to devour it, the eyeball on the Magic Wand suddenly snapped open. It twitched slightly, seemingly struggling against the encroaching power without any external force acting upon it.

Ultimately, however, it too vanished. The strange part was that the arm holding the Magic Wand instantly disintegrated into dust, its Spiritual Essence drained, clearly not included in the Sacrifice.

Usually, the gifts from a Sacrifice are returned very quickly, with only a slight delay when 'equipment drops' occur.

So, rather than being impatient, Lance was filled with anticipation.

Soon, the Void expelled a lump of Flesh about the size of a child's fist. Its surface was crisscrossed with fissures and irregularly covered with blood-red nerves and vessels. Upon it rested a closed One-eyed, exuding a dense, eerie aura.

As it landed in his hands, Lance received information from the panel, though the thing itself somewhat disgusted him.

Flooded with such an overwhelming amount of information, even Lance had to sort through it a bit before understanding what this thing was.

[Fleshcrafting]

A method for creating Extraordinary Equipment. The name alone suggested content filled with indescribable imagery.

However, like special and uncanny forging rituals, equipment crafted in this manner would also exhibit a very unique effect.

That is, the equipment is "alive."

Equipment made this way, being alive, naturally possessed qualities not found in ordinary gear.

It could mold itself to the user's will, had the potential to grow, and could autonomously repair itself when damaged, among other properties.

However, this growth potential implied a need for constant "nourishment." From the name, it was clear this nourishment was naturally Flesh and blood.

Simply put, it devoured Flesh and blood to achieve the equipment's Strengthening and self-repair. One could tell at a glance this was the style of his ancestors.

Now that this Magic Wand had appeared, it meant his ancestor had succeeded. Yet, this thing had fallen into his hands. All he could think was...

Thank you, ancestor, for the generosity. May you find peace for all your days.

And now, the object in Lance's hand was the product of [Fleshcrafting].

But under the panel's transformative power, Lance didn't need to perform those rituals or pay the various exorbitant costs and provide the myriad offerings.

He only needed to use this orb of Flesh to create a piece of Extraordinary Equipment with Fleshcrafting traits.

However, this boon wasn't so simple. One shouldn't forget that the gifts from Sacrifice are always equitably determined.

The core that Lance had acquired would, under the panel's modification, have its growth potential removed. The base materials used with this artifact would determine the quality of the weapon forged.

However, the self-repair trait was retained, along with certain special abilities.

Lance toyed with the core in his hands, finding it difficult to make an immediate decision. He opted to store it safely and study it later at his leisure.

He had just stepped out when he saw Reynard approaching with the Cavalry, also bringing news about the two camps.

In the outpost's command hall, Lance listened to the reports from the men Reynard had brought back and was somewhat surprised by what he heard.

They're incredibly loyal!

Regardless, neither camp had encountered any major issues, and the progress in the wilderness development area would not be affected, which was a good thing.

"You've all done well," Lance said to the four key individuals. "Tell me, what reward do you desire?"

"I want to enlist!" The young man who had identified the Heretics didn't hesitate much.

His family had been caught up in a convoy raid on the old road, which was why they were sent here for penal labor.

Although most of the people here had been implicated unintentionally, Lance hadn't bothered with distinctions at the time; he was in dire need of labor and had simply rounded them all up.

However, these people now had an extra mark on their records, making it difficult to pass inspection.

Ordinary refugees could typically join Hamlet after a labor review period of one to three years, depending on their circumstances.

These people, however, were not afforded that opportunity. Lance allowing them to live was already an act of mercy, so even if this young man performed exceptionally, the best he could hope for was a job as a security guard or something similar.

Now, I must seize this chance!

"Why?" Lance didn't agree immediately, instead looking at him and pressing further.

Their backgrounds weren't clean. Meritorious service could earn them a pardon, money, or a better job, but joining the military...

"Because the only way to change my fate is to become a soldier."

This answer surprised most people present, though Reynard and military men like Balistan felt offended.

To want to use the military as a stepping stone? Someone with such intentions has no right to join its ranks!