Vale felt a familiar surge of anticipation. Ah, he thought. Here it goes again, something unexpected, something I wasn't taught before. Something that will shake me up.
Slya continued after giving him a single sharp look. "You don't know what a construct is. Alright. They're like the advanced type of enchanted tools. And I'm not talking in terms of strength or power.
"Even now, constructs can't be made. They're only found in ruins and such. They're like enchanted tools and not—in the sense that they have a spirit that can be bonded with."
Vale raised an eyebrow. "Spirit that can be bonded with?"
"Yes. This allows the construct to grow in power and…"
"Wait, wait. I don't understand," Vale said flatly.
Slya took a deep breath. "Constructs are essentially something you can bind with that replaces a core inside an individual. It takes in the mana the core should, and the individual can then use magic through it just like a normal Knight. Of course, the amount of advancement you can gain is fixed…"
She trailed off, noticing Vale wasn't listening.
His face remained flat, shadowed. How many things didn't he know? He had assumed Knights' power was all that existed in the Eternal Skies, yet here was another layer of reality entirely. He shook his head and sighed wearily. It should be expected, he thought. I haven't really seen the world.
"So these constructs… can Knights use them too?" he asked cautiously.
"No. Only people who haven't activated their cores, and they'll never be able to."
"Are they more powerful than Knights?" Vale pressed, curiosity burning.
"On average? No. But some are very powerful. As you can imagine, the Clans and the Knight Assembly don't look favorably on construct users."
Vale's lips twisted into a bitter smile. "I can imagine. They tend to oppose what they don't understand. So construct users are basically borrowing artificial powers?"
Slya nodded. "Yes. And that's one reason why many normal people flock to the Borderlands. People like me and Tiber hope to gain a construct, even if it only takes us to the rank of official Knight."
"So the rank that a construct can reach is already set?" Vale asked.
"Yes. That's one of the disadvantages—you can't change constructs."
Vale allowed himself a small smile. "Impressive." No wonder the Borderlands were said to be full of dangers and opportunities in equal measure.
"And this Nyxori can provide that," Vale said, his mind racing.
Tiber shrugged. "Yes. Even if you don't need it yourself, think about how much you could sell it for. Even if it's low-rank and relatively weak, it's still valuable."
Vale nodded firmly. Money would be crucial. "This is worth the deal. So this Kade… he's a construct user? Very impressive."
His green eyes gleamed with interest. Vale had read everything available about Knights in the Clan books, but this—this was beyond anything written. His body trembled slightly as he tightened his grip on his pickaxe. "I'm very curious about this construct. Then I'll ask you two, since you seem experienced. What happens when a Squire or Knight kills a monster?"
Tiber frowned. "From what I know, Knights can take some essence from the monsters they kill. A rush of essence settles into their cores. It's why they like hunting and killing monsters—it's also one of the easiest ways to advance."
Vale's mind clicked. So that's why my core started working again after I killed that monster. Then what I really need to fill my core is to kill monsters. I can feel it regenerating already, but at this rate… it'll take days.
He smiled faintly. "Thank you. I can't wait to see this Kade. You'll have to excuse me—I've made enough starsalt for all of us. I'll cart my own in my name. See you before dinner!"
With that, Vale turned and disappeared into the tunnel.
Tiber and Slya watched him for a moment. Slya finally shook her head. "Why did you tell him about the monsters now? Our second hope of survival might get himself killed."
Tiber grunted and picked up a shovel. "We've got work to do."
Vale moved carefully through the dark. The deeper he went, the less starsalt he saw; most of it was buried beneath rock and stone.
He picked his way over the jagged stones and finally stopped, standing still to digest everything he'd just learned. It seems things aren't always what they seem.
He hesitated. I know because once something begins, there should be no going back. Hesitation is only for making the decision. He smiled a twisted, bitter smile, recalling his father's words.
Silence settled around him. Then, in the darkness, a pair of green eyes gleamed brightly. I am Vale Athrimir, and I have the highest potential in hundreds of years of its history. Let's see what that is worth.
He began to walk again, pickaxe ready. I will climb the ranks of advancement and see what knighthood has to offer me.
Potential, he knew, meant the amount of essence one could hold in their core, which directly determined the number of techniques one could use.
Vale had walked for nearly half an hour and was grateful the tunnel was straightforward; otherwise, he might have gotten lost. Should I join Nyxori? I don't care about their plans, but maybe I can get information about the other organizations. Maybe they'll know one that accepts my mark.
Suddenly, a dry giggle echoed behind him, like an old man with a lung disease trying to laugh. Vale tensed, taking a step forward while subtly shifting his body to the left and loosening his stance.
The air shifted. Vale spun, pickaxe low on the ground. A sharp crunch echoed, and warm liquid splattered over him. Something warm, thick, like honey, settled on him and his core. Small, but noticeable. Progress.
Vale smiled. Time to get my core filled for the first time.