After the conversation with Ramiris, I finally left the construction site. The sun had already begun to sink into the horizon, the faint crimson glow stretching across the streets of Eterna. We had clearly talked far longer than expected.
The day's work had wrapped up, and everyone was already packing up their tools, gathering around makeshift fires and preparing to eat. I didn't want to get in their way or disrupt the natural rhythm of their work.
"Suphia. Gobkyu. Everyone," I called, my voice cutting through the clatter of movement. "We continue tomorrow at first light. Rest well tonight."
They nodded sharply, their expressions disciplined. After giving my orders, I turned and left the site.
My destination was Kurobee's workshop.
Kurobee had always been a man who poured himself into his craft. Recently, he'd been experimenting with weapon designs too dangerous or unstable to sell. And I… intended to make use of them.
The southwest sector of Eterna had transformed into a thriving industrial zone. Kurobee's main forge stood at its heart, surrounded by the workshops of his disciples and apprentices. Rows of dormitories housed the young craftsmen who had yet to earn their own space.
Warehouses lined the streets, stacked with raw materials and equipment. Inns and canteens were scattered between, their fires and smells giving the entire district a restless, living heartbeat.
When I entered, Kurobee immediately noticed me. His face lit up with genuine respect.
"Atem-sama! An honor to have you here."
"I came to speak with you, Kurobee," I said simply, the weight of my tone making it clear that this was not a casual visit.
We shared a meal first, as tradition dictated between allies. Afterward, I followed him to the warehouse district.
"Atem-sama, this way," Kurobee said, unlocking a heavy steel door reinforced with enchantments. "These are… difficult pieces. Some of them can't be wielded by ordinary hands. Are you sure you want these?"
"Yes," I answered without hesitation. "Show me everything."
Kurobee's brow creased slightly. He wasn't doubting me—he was worried. But he obeyed.
The warehouse was lined with rows of covered stands, crates, and racks—every surface held weapons and armor that radiated power. These weren't standard armaments. Each one carried a danger, a story, or both.
He lifted the cover off a heavy set of armor first.
"This one generates a defensive barrier by drawing directly from the wearer's mana. It doesn't stop. It drains endlessly," Kurobee explained gravely. "The barrier is strong… but it kills its user the longer it's worn."
I ran my fingers along the edge of the chestplate. The metal almost hummed in my palm. "Deadly… but perfect for what I have in mind."
Next, he revealed a black sword. Runes crawled along the blade like veins of fire.
"This blade devours ambient magicules and converts them into a destructive blast. It renders the surrounding area silent—no spells can be cast. But the backlash—"
"—would kill a mortal," I finished calmly, eyeing the weapon. "Good. This one goes to the lower floors."
Then came the most disturbing set of armor—a dark crimson suit etched with unknown glyphs.
"It gifts extraordinary strength," Kurobee said. "But the price is the user's own flesh. After the enchantment expires, the muscles tear apart. Death is certain."
I met his eyes. "A fitting prize for those who believe power comes without cost."
Kurobee stiffened slightly. He understood my meaning. These weren't just tools. They were trials.
"Having dangerous and obvious properties can be… useful," I said, my voice low and deliberate. "Not everything inside the labyrinth should be kind to fools."
He nodded slowly.
"In truth, Atem-sama, many of these are of exceptional quality. Half of them are above rare-grade. Some rival unique-class craftsmanship."
I picked up a longsword from the rack—a gleaming, wind-infused blade that practically thrummed with energy.
"Even the forgotten deserve purpose," I said softly, studying its edge. "To leave weapons like these to rust would be a greater crime than wielding them recklessly."
Kurobee froze, then his expression shifted to one of deep, almost reverent emotion.
"Atem-sama… if you say so… then take as many as you need."
I inclined my head slightly. That was enough.
He began pulling out crate after crate, laying out everything—armor that cursed the reckless, swords that devoured mana, shields that could shatter bones. I would place them as treasures in Ramiris's labyrinth. Each item would lie in wait at a floor befitting its power. Only those strong enough—or foolish enough—would claim them.
Eterna's forges had grown. The stockpile was far larger than I remembered—over a hundred pieces, and each of them far superior to the standard merchandise of Ingracia's capital. The thought almost made me smile.
After my ascension, Kurobee had awakened the Unique Skill: Godly Craftsman. Combined with his former ability, Researcher, he'd evolved beyond Kaijin himself. His craftsmanship now skirted the edge of the divine.
"Your hands have grown sharper," I remarked.
He laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head. "Heh, to be praised by Atem-sama is… a bit much. I just do my best."
"False modesty doesn't suit you," I said plainly.
He blinked, flustered for a second. Then, as if remembering something, his expression changed. He rushed to the back of the warehouse and returned carrying a long, black case etched with gold.
"Oh—I almost forgot," Kurobee said, his voice a mix of excitement and respect. "I made something… special. And it's meant for you, Atem-sama."
I fixed my eyes on the case. Power leaked from it in subtle waves.
"What is this?"
"Sir Atem, I've kept you waiting for too long. It is finally complete," Kurobee said with a rare note of pride in his voice as he presented me with the weapon.
A straight sword—a chokuto—gleamed in his hands. Its blade was long enough to command respect but short enough to move swiftly. It was a weapon made precisely for me. The metal was dark as midnight, swallowing light rather than reflecting it.
"This is…" I murmured, feeling the weight of the steel just from looking at it.
"Yes," Kurobee answered with confidence, "this is my finest masterpiece."
I reached for the sword. It was cold to the touch but pulsed faintly with my power as though recognizing its master. It didn't radiate magical energy. There were no flames, no sparks, no golden glow. It was silent—dangerously silent—but solid, unyielding. A weapon built to cut through armies, not to boast.
It would not shatter. It would not bend. It was made to move in harmony with my divine energy. Unlike Hinata's Moonlight Rapier, this blade would not recklessly harm the world around it. Its power was precise, measured, and absolute.
Kurobee straightened his back like a craftsman presenting a blade to a king. "This is a weapon worthy of you, Lord Atem."
"…It's perfect," I replied calmly, though I could feel something primal stirring inside me. "A blade with no arrogance… only purpose."
"I am also very satisfied with how it turned out," Kurobee continued. "The sword isn't truly complete yet. As I explained before, following the ideas you suggested, slots can be drilled at the base of the blade for enchantments."
I turned the weapon, examining the hilt and lower edge. "But there are no slots here."
"That's because this sword is unique," Kurobee said with a proud smirk. "Unlike ordinary weapons, the slots will manifest on their own after it has been fully immersed in your power, Lord Atem. The sword will grow—evolve—but still appear unremarkable. Like an ordinary blade to anyone who doesn't understand its true nature."
I felt a grin tug at the corner of my lips. "Good. I don't need a flashy sword. I need a weapon that obeys me."
Kurobee's voice lowered almost reverently. "Once it evolves, it will surpass even Legendary-grade weapons."
I could already sense the potential. My energy pulsed faintly through the steel, and the sword responded, as if whispering to me. But it wasn't time yet. The enchantment crystals weren't ready. The blade still had a path to walk—just like I did.
"I'll wait," I said, sliding the weapon into its sheath. "When the time comes, it will be perfect."
Kurobee bowed. "Thank you, Lord Atem."
I left his workshop with the blade secured at my side. The weight was familiar, comforting. This sword was more than a weapon—it was a symbol of judgment.
The moment I stepped outside, the air of Eterna greeted me. My vision extended toward the labyrinth, and plans unfolded in my mind like a grand tapestry. I had the equipment I needed, and these pieces would not just sit in some vault—they would shape the legend of the dungeon beneath the Colosseum.
"The high-tier equipment will be guarded by the floor bosses," I muttered to myself. "Let the challengers earn their glory."
It wasn't just about profit. These weapons, even the failed prototypes, could still fetch good coin.
Myourmiles and Fuze could sell them and line our coffers easily. But this was more than a transaction.
I wanted humans and monsters alike to step into Eterna and feel something greater—the weight of a nation's vision. If they experienced its strength and majesty, they would come back. Not for money… but for glory.
"Money must flow," I said under my breath, echoing a principle I held firm. "Otherwise, it's just dead weight."
The Appraisal Shop would serve as the beating heart of this flow. Adventurers would risk their lives in the labyrinth, come out with artifacts, and return to us for evaluation. Every weapon forged here carried our mark. We would know their secrets, their risks, their power. The dangerous ones we'd buy back ourselves—control was power.
To the southeast, the Colosseum stood in its early form, with the dungeon stretching like a hungry beast beneath it. To the southwest, the inns and lodges would host adventurers and travelers, keeping the classes separated for better order. The rich would stay in the northeastern luxury district, while the bold and reckless would find their place near the labyrinth.
"It's perfect," I said quietly. "A city that breathes."
When Ramiris had begged to move here, I'd hesitated. But now? Everything was falling into place.
"One or two major tournaments each year," I planned aloud. "And smaller events in between. Military training, adventurer challenges, exhibitions of strength… a constant heartbeat."
The labyrinth would not be just for show—it would be a training ground, a proving ground, a forge for legends. And those who stepped in would face death and rise stronger—or not at all.
I clenched the hilt of my new sword. "Eterna will not just exist. It will echo through history."
I walked on with unwavering steps. Every decision, every move, was a piece of a much larger design.
I am Atem. Pharaoh of Shadows and Light.
And my nation was just beginning to awaken.