Now with his tools and inventory freshly organized, Neil turned his attention to the next task—armor.
He opened the crafting interface, his eyes flicking across the familiar glowing grid. The soft blue light cast shadows across his focused face as he contemplated his next move.
"Helmet first," he murmured, the words barely audible in the quiet lobby. Selecting five iron ingots from his inventory, he carefully arranged them in the classic pattern he remembered from countless gaming sessions in his previous life. The interface shimmered with ethereal light, and a solid iron helmet materialized before him with a satisfying *ding*.
One by one, he methodically crafted each piece. Eight ingots shaped themselves into a broad chestplate ,Seven became sturdy leggings, Four forged into protective boots.
By the time the last piece materialized in his inventory, twenty-four precious iron ingots had been consumed, leaving him with a complete gleaming set of iron armor. He leaned back slightly, admiring the lineup displayed in his inventory grid—each piece perfectly crafted, waiting to be tested.
*Now the question is… how do I wear them?*
A dilemma settled in his mind like morning fog. Should he put them on by hand like normal clothes, or should he place them in his equipment bar? After a brief pause, Neil decided to try the equipment bar first. If it failed, he could always resort to wearing them manually.
He locked onto the iron boots with his though, dragging them into the lowest equipment slot—the boot section at the bottom of his character display.
The instant he released the item, a strange sensation washed over his feet like warm water. Startled, Neil glanced down at himself. His comfortable woolen socks were held inside by a pair of polished iron boots that fit his feet as though they'd been custom-forged by a master craftsman.
His eyes widened in amazement. "They… appeared by themselves?"
The implications hit him immediately. He didn't need to struggle with complex armor systems or worry about proper fitting—the artifact system equipped them automatically, seamlessly integrating the protection into his very being.
Heart racing with excitement, Neil decided to test their protection immediately. Pulling a wooden stick from his inventory, he tapped it lightly against his armored foot, bracing himself for the impact. But no pain came. Instead, all he felt was a faint vibration—like pressure transmitted through thick padding.
His grin widened with each gentle tap. Still, he forced himself to remain calm and recall what he knew from his previous life's gaming experience. Armor should all block damage until it deteriorated from use.
*Let's confirm the full extent.*
He raised the stick again and aimed at his bare, unarmored hand. Swinging lightly, he expected at least a minor sting. But to his complete shock, the stick halted midair—stopping a full centimeter away from his exposed skin. No pain, no contact, as though an invisible energy shield had intercepted the blow.
He struck harder, putting real force behind it. Still nothing. The unseen barrier absorbed everything with perfect efficiency.
Neil's heart thundered in his chest. "This… even one piece of armor protects the whole body."
Pure excitement surged through him like electricity. If this incredible system worked for him, perhaps it would work for his family as well. That single thought filled him with fierce determination to protect those he loved.
Without hesitation, he equipped the rest of the armor through the interface—helmet, chestplate, leggings. His equipment bar filled systematically, and in moments he stood clad in a complete set of iron armor that gleamed like silver in the flickering light.
Expecting the weight of metal plates, he shifted his body experimentally. To his continued amazement, he felt none. His movements remained fluid and unhindered, as though he wore nothing at all. He kicked at the air, swung his arms in wide arcs, even performed a few deep squats. The armor followed his every motion seamlessly, responding like a second skin.
"It feels…like a divine armor," Neil whispered, half in reverent awe.
After extensive testing, he settled back at the stone table, curiosity returning with renewed vigor. A new question formed: could he remove the armor without using the interface?
Placing his hand on the iron boot, he gave a gentle experimental tug. To his amazement, it slipped off with surprising ease. The fit had been absolutely perfect—so natural it felt as though the armor had been crafted by divine hands specifically for his body alone.
*Does it automatically adjust to match the wearer?* he wondered, turning the boot over in his hands.
He pulled it back on, and again it molded flawlessly to his foot like liquid metal finding its perfect form. Nodding in satisfaction, he confirmed his theory was correct.
Opening his personal interface again, Neil glanced at the equipment display. Even though he had manually worn the pieces, all four armor slots showed as filled, complete with small icons representing each equipped item.
"So the system works both ways…" he muttered with growing appreciation for the artifact's sophistication.
Just as he prepared to close the interface, his observant eyes caught something entirely new. Beneath the detailed 3D model of himself—now proudly clad in iron armor—a small scroll button had appeared that definitely hadn't been there before.
Intrigued, Neil tapped the new icon. A simple but elegant menu unfolded before him:
**Display Options:**
- On – Show Armor
- Off – Hide Armor
His eyebrows rose with interest. He switched the setting to "Off."
In the blink of an eye, the armor completely vanished from sight. His regular clothes were visible once more—simple tunic , trousers and woolen socks —though he could still feel the subtle, weightless presence of the protective equipment surrounding him.
For a final test, he struck himself again with the wooden stick. The invisible barrier held firm, deflecting the blow effortlessly.
A slow, satisfied smile spread across his face. "Hidden or not, the protection remains active."
He toggled the armor to remain concealed.
---
While Neil immersed himself completely in crafting and experimentation, time slipped away unnoticed like sand through fingers. The faint golden light of dawn gradually brightened behind the heavy wooden door, casting long shadows across the stone floor.
His parents soon stirred from their modest room, emerging into the main lobby with quiet steps.
Maya's concerned eyes fell on Neil first. He sat alone at the stone table, lantern light flickering across his motionless figure like dancing spirits. His face appeared distant, expression somehow fragile. Something about his solitary posture struck her maternal heart deeply—he looked lonely, vulnerable, as if he might simply vanish into the shadows.
Her chest tightened with sudden, inexplicable pain.
A soft tap on her shoulder pulled her from these troubling thoughts. Anil stood beside her, looking puzzled by her obvious distress.
"What's wrong, Maya? Something bothering you about Neil?"
Maya glanced between her husband and son, uncertainty clouding her features. "Don't you… feel something different when you look at him? Something's changed."
Anil tilted his head, genuinely confused. "Different? No, not particularly. Did something specific happen while we were sleeping?"
She sighed quietly. *So completely oblivious… how can this man be so dense about emotional subtleties?* Yet pride sparked within her heart. *At least Neil inherited my family's intuitive nature… that explains his perceptiveness.*
Anil noticed her shifting expression but wisely chose not to argue the point. Quietly, he accompanied his wife toward their contemplative son.
Maya bent down slightly, voice gentle with maternal concern. "Neil, is something bothering you, sweetheart? You know you can tell us anything, anytime."
Neil jolted as if waking from a trance, caught completely off guard. Recognizing his mother's worried face, he exhaled softly and forced a reassuring smile. "It's nothing serious, Mother. If there ever was something truly important, you'd be the very first person I'd tell."
Her heart eased somewhat at his sincere words, though worry lines remained etched around her eyes. "Then how come my little bear woke up so unusually early today?"
Neil flushed with embarrassment, his cheeks coloring. "I'm not a sleeping bear! I only woke because someone kicked me repeatedly in her sleep… and then my throat was dry. After getting water, I simply couldn't fall back asleep."
Maya chuckled warmly, her eyes bright with both amusement and genuine relief. "Oh, my poor little bear getting bullied even in his dreams? Should I let you sleep with us again? I could even tell you proper bedtime stories like when you were small."
Neil groaned theatrically, hiding his burning face in his hands. "Mother, please…"
Anil, silently observing their playful exchange, smiled with quiet contentment. This simple familial warmth, these precious moments of connection—this was truly all he had ever wanted from life.
Maya soon headed toward their small kitchen to begin preparing breakfast, her husband dutifully following to assist with morning preparations.
Left alone once more, Neil leaned back in his chair and muttered under his breath with satisfaction, "They didn't notice the armor at all… the concealment function works perfectly. I'll tell them about it during breakfast—they all deserve to know about this protection."
The morning light continued to strengthen, and with it, Neil's resolve to keep his family safe in this dangerous new world.