After the events of the One-Day War, two heroes emerged from the conflict. Damien Rose, the second son of Gideon Hellscythe, and Chester Everheart, his enigmatic companion. Their achievements have yet to be confirmed, but all the information points to them being crucial to Welton's defense against the powerful invaders. Although the Rose bloodline is well documented, Chester Everheart remains a total mystery. Some have theorized that he is an otherworlder, explaining the sudden appearance. Others claim he is a secret bodyguard raised alongside the heir of Wisperium. His earliest appearance was found to be in the streets of Pesodonia, where the local townspeople claim the duo fought against a platoon of armed bandits. Another source has stated that Chester Everheart was responsible for the theft at the Lanes Auction House, although this theory is still not proven. We will keep you updated for more information.

~ A spymaster's report on the One-Day War

Chester watched the shallow breaths of the woman beside him. Inside Alda's room, they both lay naked under the silken sheets.

'At least she wasn't too rough on me this time.' He remarked. The beautiful woman possessed some serious strength but knew that breaking the man as soon as he left the hospital was a horrible idea. Chester was thankful for that. However, his mind was focused on her request during the midst of their lovemaking session.

'Won't you stay with me?' Her voice was light and breathy, and her half-lidded eyes made him shiver upon remembering.

Chester felt it was a cheap tactic to ask that while he was assaulting her with a friendly weapon. He was very suggestive during times like that, and could count on several hands when he had fallen for such a thing before going back on his word and disappearing into the night. Commitment had always been a tumultuous concept for him, especially due to his nomadic lifestyle. He liked the freedom, but the temptation of a beautiful woman and a cushy living situation was stronger than he thought.

But his past life and current were very different situations. In less than a year, he had opened himself up and made more genuine friendships than he had in the past two decades.

Sex was a tool for him. It was a means to an end, whether it was a way for him to avoid sleeping on the streets or simply for pleasure. The act of intercourse was something Chester treated very casually. Knowing how beneficial it was, he learned and became better at it. The curly-haired man had lost count of how many women he slept with. Young, old, beautiful, ugly; whatever the situation called for, he was always open to it. But Alda was different. The shape of her face, the way her body moved at his every touch, and the natural chemistry they had together was unlike anything he had ever felt before.

They got along well despite their clashing personalities. A stalwart and dutiful commander that showed distinct pride for her kingdom. A sneaky, underhanded thief that did whatever he wished whenever he wanted. They couldn't be any more different, but it worked so well.

That's why Chester was scared. It was something he had never experienced before. Something he didn't think would happen outside of the shows and movies he watched. He feared that he was always too different, too unusual to deserve a happy love. He had closed himself off from such a possibility for the longest time.

Commitment felt like shackles to him. It made him vulnerable. A lesson he learned throughout his life was that weaknesses were exploited.

And so, he rejected her offer. Alda was hurt and clearly surprised by his refusal. But he did his best to explain himself. She deserved that, at the very least.

'I can't say never. I wouldn't. But I'm at a point in life where I can't stay in one place. It's in my blood. I'll always be restless, looking for the next place to go.'

The thief could tell he had hurt her very deeply. He knew that her opinion of him had changed too. From a one-night stand to an ideal prospect for a lover. He knew that in the end, their natures were far too different and one would end up over-compromising to meet the other. He stared regretfully at her sleeping body, giving her another soft kiss on her forehead. Closing his eyes, he couldn't see the small downward tilt of her face that appeared for a fraction of a second.

'Maybe one day. But there are no guarantees in life. So please, don't wait for me.'

Both of them decided to enjoy the time they had together, and focus on the present.

A week had passed since the party, and many events had occurred during that timespan.

First, the underground tunnel leading underneath the Vault had been sealed and now had additional defenses. The entire cost of procuring the necessary materials was offset by Welton having one of the largest mines on the entire continent. Due to concerns over future widescale invasions, the kingdom has allocated more of its funds towards improved barricades and importing higher-tier anti-teleportation devices. Chester noted that there were tighter patrols and more checks around the water treatment facility, diminishing any hope of him ever taking a sneak peek in the vault's interior ever again.

'Well, I doubt that anybody would try anything with that new Cardinal in town...'

Chester was a witness to the Cardinal's entrance into the kingdom. It came with much fanfare, including a royal chariot pulled by majestic unicorns. The man didn't even know the horned steeds existed in Aetheria, but couldn't bring himself to be that surprised about it. After all, he had witnessed many ridiculous things upon descending to this new world. Their pristine white fur matched well with the white and gold colors synonymous with the Church of Pernatia.

A squadron of eight knights exited the massive chariot. Even from appearance, they could be judged as the elite of the elite. He used his growing mana detection skills and could sense barely repressed power under their plated armors. Chester was certain that if those eight had been present during the battle, the invading army would've been thrashed without any chance for resistance. That was how visible their strength was.

Between the soldier he had fought in Elway and them, he wasn't sure who would come out on top. Even after all the enemies he had faced and won against, the idea of going up against the brutish woman from Elway struck a chord of fear. She had left a distinct impression on the fleeing illusionist. His attention returned to the soldiers exiting the chariot. They stood in formation as a silhouette shuffled within the vehicle. The mana levels coing from within reminded him of Elric, the otherworlder cyborg that fought blow for blow against the Ankheg Queen. It was palpable, and the bead of sweat running down Romero's forehead showed that whoever was inside shouldn't be taken lightly.

And with the most dramatic entrance of all, the Cardinal herself was unveiled.

"Make way for Cardinal Helen! You have our express permission to bow."

Confused, most of the present civilians and soldiers did so. The thief decided to fall in line, watching Archbishop Romero's face as the door to the chariot opened.

An older woman, likely around the same age range as the Archbishop, made her presence known. She had dark-red hair, fashioned into a short bob that went down to her collarbone. Her eyes were sharp, and the slightest wrinkles around her eyes and mouth were the only things that gave away her age. The Cardinal wore two, golden hoop earrings, and they poked out slightly from her hair.

Her robes billowed as she floated to the ground, not taking her eyes off Romero and staring him down like a predator eyeing its prey. After a few moments of tense silence, she spoke.

"You've certainly seen better days, Romero." Her voice was haughty and authoritative and reminded him strongly of velvet wine. Seeing the subtle shapes of her body past the baggy robes, only one word came into the thief's head.

'MILF.'

"It is nice seeing you in good health as well, Helen." He said, ignoring the passive-aggressive statement she had made. "I've already prepared your accommodations. And yes, I followed the details on the letter you gave."

She seemed bemused at his attitude, turning up her nose upon hearing his words. "My, you're certainly efficient. Where are all the pleasantries? You were under my charge once, you know. Purging the undead at the borders of the Godless Lands, sigh. Can't you treat an old superior with some more tact?"

Chester understood why the usually stoic man started drinking as soon as he mentioned the Cardinal. She was insufferable. Their conversation went back and forth, and it strongly reminded the illusionist of a disapproving parent talking down on their under-achieving children. He hadn't experienced it himself, being orphaned at a young age, but he had seen the trope in many forms of media before.

"Unfortunately, I have urgent matters to attend to after this. I'd also like your support regarding our General Drake and Lieutenant General's injuries?"

Cardinal Helen waved him off, showing luxurious rings and bracelets that nearly blinded the thief. He fought down the urge to steal them almost instantly, unwilling to find out how strong those paladins surrounding her were. He cautiously eyed one of the knights wielding a comically large warhammer, almost double the size of Chester himself.

"It's not like they're dying. Let me get set up first. Lead me to the lodgings."

Like Archbishop Romero had said, he followed her requests for accommodation to the letter. a massive luxury mansion was erected in the residential district, likely costing more than the repairs to the kingdom. The design was Romanesque, with towering round arches and thick brick walls standing almost three stories tall. It was spacious enough to fit the nine-person squad with ease. Chester followed along with other dwarven diplomats, trying to watch the entertainment from afar. After quite some time, he managed to get a hold of the Archbishop. He looked drained after the interactions.

"I feel sorry for you man. Is she going to be here permanently?"

The priest paled upon hearing that. "I'd hope not. No, she'll be here for a few months while we recover. We pulled her from her original post, and another Cardinal is covering her for the time being. However, two of the elite paladins with her are being placed here permanently to bolster our defenses."

Chester balked. "So you're telling me you spent thousands of gold to make that for a short-term stay?!"

"Cardinal Helen's eccentricities are well-known...but with the power she has, we do our best to keep her happy." Romero shivered, as though remembering an unpleasant memory. "It is a small price to pay for keeping our most valuable assets satisfied."

The illusionist decided to avoid the haughty woman for the rest of his stay at Welton. He didn't want a divine smiting on the off-chance he offended her. Chester knew that after a short exchange with her his blood pressure would inevitably rise. Thankfully, she seemed to be too preoccupied with herself to bother him.

That wasn't to say the entire squadron was like that. Many of the paladins acquainted themselves with the local populace, and Chester had managed to befriend one of them.

"Where'd they pull you from?" He asked the paladin.

"I was stationed at the Emporia front, just a day's travel from the Highlands. Taking care of some Ego Beast harassing the town for tributes. The townspeople have been having trouble fighting them off for the past few months, so they asked for some aid."

Chester found out the man's name was Jonathan Meyers. He had heavy-plated starsteel armor and was the one carrying the massive hammer on his back. His skin was tan brown, a few shades darker than the thief's own. Jonathan's hair was wavy and long, tied neatly into a bun with a few loose strands falling down to his forehead. They got along fairly well, but Chester decided to retreat once the man talked about recruitment and the benefits of becoming part of the Church.

But the Cardinal's entry wasn't the most significant thing to happen to Chester. Far from it. When he was called to Welton's Furnace along with Damien, he met the legendary blacksmith who had spurned him during their first meeting. They were on a floor above where the master blacksmiths dwelled, whom they planned to go with after. The massive dwarf looked tired and dirty, and the entire floor was covered in scorch marks. The massive flame billowing constantly at the center of the building made the heat unbearable for the two adventurers.

"I've finished your commissions."

"We didn't even tell you what we wanted though." Chester rebutted, sticking his tongue out and flapping the collar of his shirt to find some relief.

"You don't tell me what to do. I make the item you most need."

'What the fuck is wrong with this asshole? How could he even know that?'

Damien detected the man's ire and put a calming hand on his shoulder. He tried to assuage his worries about receiving a bad commission, acting as a mediator between the clashing personalities. "Trust Arber. He is the greatest blacksmith to have ever lived. He wouldn't tarnish his reputation just to give you a faulty piece of equipment."

Dramatically, the blacksmith opened the boxes to reveal two items. One was a spiked ball about the size of Chester's head, and another was a large, dark grey shield.

"That one is yours," Arber pointed out the spiky sphere to the illusionist. "This one is yours, sir Rose. I hope you like it."

"Hey! You motherfucker! What the hell is that thing?!"

Gravite Shield of the Immortal

- Forged from the mythical metal Gravite, this shield is unbreakable and impossibly hard. Crafted by a legendary blacksmith, the shield has a small chance of developing an ego. Its anti-magic properties make enchanting it nearly impossible.

- The tempered exterior nullifies all forms of magical attacks. All elemental attacks, not including creation magic, are rendered useless before this artifact.

- Immensely reduces damage from piercing, cutting, and bludgeoning attacks.

- Nullifies critical hits. Damage below a certain point is ignored completely.

- Weight: 20kg

Damien touched the shield gingerly, receiving a notification as he eyed the stunningly intricate artifact. It was in the shape of a circle, much like his buckler that had been destroyed in battle. But unlike the Blessed Shield, this one was many times larger. It almost engulfed his entire body, and the disc shape gave him wide coverage. The exterior had a fearsome depiction of a wolf's gaping maw, giving him an extra point for intimidation when he was on the battlefield.

Unbonded gravite artifact acquired. Would you like to bond?

The boy said yes, and noted just how heavy the shield was. Twenty kilograms was nothing to the Shadow Knight, but considering that his old shield had been a twentieth of the weight, the leap in size and mass was significant nonetheless.

"Aye, we're running low on manastones. Used my last one on that screeching hobgoblin over there. I'd advise you to go to the Highlands for enchantments, they're not my strong suit. Ask for Siltral, she'll do you a solid as long as you mention my name. I'll send her a letter."

"Thanks a fucking lot for the spiky ball! You want me to shoot some fuckin' hoops? Play in the dwarven Olympics and break the shotput record? Huh?!"

Arber finally stopped ignoring the rambling illusionist, handing him the ball and telling him to look at it properly.

"You're fookin' dimwitted, aren't ya? It's not supposed to be used by itself. I've seen you fight. That flail you like so damn much is going to be much stronger with this."

Vorpal Striking Head

- Forged from adamantium and layered in with fractite, it boasts absurd hardiness and durability, along with a natural resistance to magic. Crafted by a legendary blacksmith, the weapon has a small chance of developing an ego. Its magic-resistant properties make it difficult to enchant.

- Due to its magic-resistant properties, there is a small chance of removing a beneficial magical effect when striking enemies.

- The fractite powder in the weapon detonates upon hitting a surface with sufficient force.

- Deals immense piercing, explosive, and bludgeoning damage.

- Size Adjusting III: The equipment will shape accordingly to match the user's desire from 50-200% of it's original size.

- Weight: 8kg (4-16kg)

The distinct adamantium sheen on the ball was peppered with flakes of lighter purple dots, they seemed to dilate and contract, almost as though it was alive. Chester almost dropped the artifact when he realized it could explode, but knew such an act would likely trigger the reaction.

"Yo-you crazy bastard! This thing fucking explodes!"

Arber rolled his eyes. Grabbing the weapon from Chester, the ball looked like an apple in his massive, toughened hands. The blacksmith proceeded to drop it on the floor and make Chester dive for cover. Nothing happened.

"As you can see, it won't blow up willy-nilly. You'd need to strike someone with the intent to kill for it to blow up like that. For example,"

The dwarf picked it up once more, hurling it at the wall with all his strength. A miniature explosion occurred as it struck the wall, leaving a significant dent in the durable walls of the forge. He didn't seem too bothered by the property damage, in fact, he seemed proud.

It turned out that fractite was the result of gold being corrupted by draconic magic. The mundane ores now exploded on impact. Instead of the soft, ductile ingot, it had become a light purple, and extremely brittle. This meant that it couldn't be used properly as a weapon, but rather ground into a powder that enabled exploding attacks so long as the metal it was crafted with was extremely durable. He also explained the origin of Gravite, as it was the consequence of corrupted adamantium. Arber possessed a wide array of knowledge and used them to create some amazing and unique equipment for the saviors of his kingdom.

'Shit, I guess I'll keep it in my bag unless its an emergency.'

Chester calmed down after that, but he still grumbled constantly about the stark difference in their commissions. But he respected the quality and skill that went into creating the ball of death. He knew that he'd seldom use it, unwilling to explode a human unless necessary. But he supposed that overkill was better than nothing, especially if he was dealing with superhumans and monsters capable of rending him limb from limb.

"You ready to give these things a shot?"

"Hell yeah, I am. Let's just be careful. I don't really feel like dying today, okay?"