The Twelve Temples, Aries Temple.
The ancient hall was paved with marble. Weathered columns, a pitted floor, and damaged statues all bore witness to the battles Aries Temple had endured since the mythic age.
"Damian, is that sister's name Aphro? The other female Saints all wear masks—why doesn't she?"
Walking along the broad marble path of Aries Temple, Kiki pried for every bit of information about Aphrodite.
"Because he's a man."
Tired of the questions, Damian simply told the truth.
Better that Kiki not fall too deep and get his feelings tricked by a cross‑dresser.
A boy should walk the straight path, not go crooked.
"No way. I'm young and haven't read much—don't lie to me."
Hands on hips, Kiki looked unconvinced and said proudly, "I saw her chest."
Uh…
Damian was a little speechless and didn't feel like explaining.
Ever since the cross‑dressing queen put on women's clothes, he liked stuffing things into his chest—and his stuffing skills kept improving. Even Damian couldn't spot the seams or tell real from fake.
A brat like Kiki even less so.
"That sister has a special dispensation from the Pope, you understand? She's a special existence in the Sanctuary. Very few people know about her."
If you won't believe me, don't blame me for spinning a story to fool a kid.
"Oh, that explains it. His Holiness has always been unorthodox."
Kiki suddenly understood.
Unorthodox? More like a psychotic episode from the Pope.
Damian said nothing and kept walking.
He'd done all he could for a brat asking for trouble.
Before long, Kiki led him into a hidden chamber.
Inside were piles of Cloth fragments and parts, plus racks that once held Cloths, now hung with broken components.
"This is Mr. Mu's warehouse for repairing Cloths."
"Mr. Mu went out and hasn't come back. I'm watching this place for him."
"These Cloths are either damaged, still in their prototype phase, or have no spirit."
Pointing at a heap of dull, lusterless Cloths, Kiki said, "Tell me what you want—any of these is yours. You already qualify to receive a Cloth."
"Just don't ask me to forge a Gold Cloth. I hear Cloth forging is extremely complex. At the moment, even Mr. Mu can't make a Bronze Cloth from scratch."
"Especially Gold Cloths—those were forged by the fire gods of the mythic age. Humans can't do it."
Damian nodded and kept his peace.
He began pacing among the broken Cloths.
Mr. Mu had a unique talent for repairing Cloths. Every Cloth in the Sanctuary was maintained by him.
Perhaps it was precisely because of that one‑of‑a‑kind skill that Saga hadn't raised a hand against Mu, letting him come and go freely from the Sanctuary.
What lay before him were Cloths either shattered, incomplete, or without spirits.
Simply put, all disabled junk.
Even so, the materials were still silver star sand, Gammanion, and mountain copper.
"This one was originally the Tarantula Cloth. It came in a few days ago, and Mr. Mu has it about seventy percent repaired."
Kiki recommended.
Damian shook his head.
The Tarantula Cloth was too obvious.
"Mr. Mu said this one still has a remnant spirit."
Kiki pointed to another, slightly older Cloth, its surface dim and cracked in many places.
Damian still shook his head.
Too recognizable—not covert enough.
His gaze fell on a Cloth in a corner that seemed a bit different.
The coverage was extensive—knees, arms, chest all wrapped tight. There were fewer cracks on it overall, though the whole thing bore many signs of breakage. Aside from lacking a helmet and having a huge hole in the chest, it was largely intact.
"This one."
Damian pointed.
"That one?"
"It's dead. Mr. Mu seems to have found it in the Cloth graveyard."
"No one knows what constellation it was. Mr. Mu only said it was special—picked it up as a keepsake."
"And they say it's extremely hard to fix—would take a staggering amount of Cosmo and blood. It's been sitting so long, Mr. Mu's probably forgotten it."
Damian nodded. "This is the one."
"Are you sure?"
"A dead Cloth is no different from a pile of metal."
Kiki was surprised.
"Can't a Cloth be revived by pouring blood?"
Damian smiled.
"Yes—by pouring blood. But it has to be a Saint's blood—lots of it, and high quality. The stronger the Cosmo, the better."
"And finally you have to flood it with Cosmo to awaken the Cloth and make it come alive."
"Take it home, and it's just scrap metal."
Kiki warned.
"I'll take this scrap Cloth."
Damian had decided.
After he packed up the scrap Cloth, Kiki blocked his path. "Damian, thanks. Consider this broken Cloth a thank‑you gift."
"Also, tell me what that Sister Aphro likes."
"I'll still owe you one."
"Your Sister Aphro likes desserts and hotpot. He also likes pretty women's clothes—stockings, short skirts, that sort of thing…"
Watching Kiki's lovestruck expression, Damian couldn't help three seconds of silence for him.
A cross‑dresser corrupts deep.
The first victim had appeared.
.
With the Cloth box on his back, Damian took a secluded path out of sight and returned to the cave deep in the graveyard.
All power to max!
He set the Cloth down, and his muscles swelled in an instant. Blood and Cosmo burned wildly, his Cosmo peaking at the Seventh Sense.
A fierce gold radiance bloomed over him; his cords of muscle were like steel, brimming with a terrifying Cosmo pulse.
He clamped the pulse's range tight—it wouldn't leak from the cave.
Without hesitation, he swung his right arm and slit his left wrist. Blood gushed like a spring, splashing down.
As the blood fountained out and sprayed over the dead Cloth, the faintly golden blood soaked it through.
The gleaming blood kept flowing, wrapping the Cloth.
Before long, the amount lost was staggering—enough that even Damian felt it.
Thanks to his special constitution, bleeding a little was nothing.
But this Cloth was greedy.
Suddenly, Damian felt the Cloth quiver, as if resonating with his blood.
Good.
He poured on his Cosmo and clapped a hand to the Cloth. It reacted like it had been shocked—under the slam of his vast Cosmo, it tremored like a heartbeat, then gradually grew faint again.
Again!
Blood dripped once more from his left arm. He slapped hard and upped the Cosmo output.
The Cloth's unique "pulse" returned—stronger than before.
Good—there was effect.
He remembered notes from ancient scrolls—some special repair techniques. If he kept at it, he stood a good chance of reviving the Cloth.
Thump, thump, thump…
Again and again he hammered blood and Cosmo into the Cloth.
At last a steady, even "heartbeat" sounded from within.
A golden glow bloomed over the surface; the blood was fully absorbed; its form began to change; cracks knit and healed.
Yes—the Cloth was alive!
When the gold light faded, Damian looked at the renewed Cloth with delight.
He wished he hadn't.
One look and he sucked in a cold breath and staggered back three steps.
What the—!
What was this supposed to be?
Maybe it was the blood loss.
His knees nearly buckled in front of the Cloth.
It was all silver‑white, gleaming with metallic chill, polished bright. The styling was handsome—and the Cosmo rolling off it made the heart pound.
Love at first sight.
Except… it had four hooves and two wings—like a horse in flight—a Pegasus!
The Cloth he'd revived with all that blood…
Was a Pegasus Bronze Cloth!
Damian felt like a hundred million alpacas had trampled him flat.
I… can I please swear now?
(End of Chapter)
[Get +20 Extra Chapters On — P@tr3on "Mutter"]
[Every 100 Power Stones = 1 Bonus Chapter Drop]
[Thanks for Reading!]