World System's Wrath: Primordial Architect of Taboo Creations

"What happened to Freya?" Cyrus asked calmly, trying to keep his expression as natural as possible, even though his heart felt like it was about to leap out of his chest.

"Oh! What do you expect to happen to her? She's gone. I guess she must have reached the academy by now. Alright, come repair our equipment," Tracy shrugged as she walked up to him, with Yuna trailing behind.

Cyrus nodded and led them to his shop, deciding against breaking everything due to a single suspicion. After all, there was nothing he had that warranted malicious intentions.

When he unlocked the door, Bubble couldn't help but mutter, "Why are your shop prices higher than normal when you do less work and spend less than Craftsmiths?"

Cyrus merely smiled at her, as this was the umpteenth time she had asked.

"Not to offend orders by taking all their customers," Cyrus replied as he pulled open the door.

"You mean Master Aris?" Bubble's eyes shone, as if she had guessed correctly, but Cyrus ignored her.

Dropping his bag and walking to the workbench, Cyrus stretched out his palm. "The equipment, and as usual, a 30% discount for you guys."

They nodded, and Yuna opened the bag that had been dropped outside.

Inside were three armors, two swords, and a pair of twin axes.

Cyrus pulled the bag closer and picked up the first armor. There were three claw marks around the chest and back, each a finger's length thick.

Raising his palm, a blue flame materialized, swaying gently. He placed his hand over the claw marks, and, as if by magic—which it was—the marks began to close. Metal grew from the edges, filling the gash until the armor looked pristine and the scratch vanished completely.

This was the Artifice flame. Artificers were nicknamed the 'natural healers of low-level equipment' because the Artifice flame could restore slightly damaged equipment to its previous state, much like how a healer could mend human wounds.

Unlike Craftsmiths, who required crafting tools to work, Artificers only needed enough etherion to continue repairing minor damages on equipment, which was also why they were often sent on field jobs.

Picking up a sword, Cyrus healed all the scratches. However, the last armor had a significant chunk broken off at the chest.

Cyrus knew that the Artifice flame alone wouldn't suffice for this kind of repair. 

He raised his head and asked Tracy's team, who had been quietly watching him work, "Do you have the metal for this repair?"

Tracy nodded and produced a wide, thick, palm-sized piece of black metal.

Now, he was ready to perform a technique that distinguished an exceptional Artificer from an average one—Metal Grafting.

Summoning his Artisan Scribbler, Cyrus carefully measured the size and shape of the missing chunk with his eyes and fingers. Using the Artisan Scribbler, he meticulously marked the palm-sized metal, capturing every curve with uncanny precision, as this was essential for a proper fit. This was the true purpose of the Artisan Scribbler before he adapted it for use on humans.

Once finished, he raised the metal, adorned with a red, map-like drawing, and roasted it under the Artifice flame. The crack followed the markings, perfectly detaching it from the metal piece. If the carving wasn't precise enough to fit the broken section, the repair would be flawed, compromising the armor's durability.

He fitted the carved piece onto the missing section and applied the Artifice flame, his movements fluid. The edges of both the carved piece and the armor melted together, bonding flawlessly before solidifying in mere seconds.

Holding up the repaired armor, Cyrus nodded in satisfaction, despite the slight pallor of his face and the sweat glistening on his brow. Now, no one could tell it had been damaged. This was why Craftsmiths despised Artificers; they viewed them as lacking blacksmithing knowledge, relying solely on their Artifice flame. They often referred to Artificers as 'misplaced sculptors forced to be healers.'

"Good as new," Cyrus admired his handiwork.

"Damn! I hate watching this boring stuff but you made the process entrancing," Tracy applauded, breaking the silence. "You always make your work enjoyable. Even when others repair my stuff, they end up less durable, but you somehow manage to enhance it. I've already advertised your shop, but your prices are… ridiculous. If you were an Eminent rank Elite, you wouldn't have to fear Master Aris, making better profits without anyone daring to question you. But… you're a coward."

Cyrus's cheek twitched as he passed the repaired armor to them. 

"Send the payment to my account," he added.

They nodded, took their equipment, and left.

However, Yuna whispered something to Tracy before returning. She closed the door behind her, produced the cube Helen used, and twisted it, creating a shimmering blue dome that enveloped them.

Cyrus arched an eyebrow at her actions.

Yuna was older than the rest, at least twenty-five by Cyrus's estimation. She was calm, observant, and calculative, always picking the best missions. However, he and Yuna were not close; their interactions were superficial at best.

"You took the deal?" she questioned, her voice calm.

"What deal?" Cyrus feigned ignorance.

"Stop playing dumb. That watch on your wrist means you took the deal," she retorted coolly. "Two weeks ago, many people received this watch and were forced to participate in a mission. Even though we were involved, our conditions weren't stringent since we're Eminent rank Elites. So, how did you get entangled in it?"

Cyrus studied her reaction, his gaze steady.

Yuna had red hair and green eyes, her face oval and devoid of excess fat. Her athletic body structure, accentuated by elegant curves, added to her poised demeanor.

"What can you do about it?" Cyrus finally replied, trying to mask his anger.

"Nothing. I suspect it was when Tracy touted you as the genius Artificer that drew their attention. I didn't stop her, thinking everyone would take her rants unseriously since you're still an Awakened Elite at the age of twenty," Yuna explained with a shrug, a light smile on her lips.

"Thanks for pointing that out. So what now?" Cyrus snapped, the smile grating on his nerves.

"I could talk to him to free you. So, how did you get forced?" Yuna finally revealed her motive.

"I was attacked in my basement, and the assailant committed suicide to set me up. And here we are," Cyrus replied nonchalantly.

However, Yuna's expression grew serious.

"What?" Cyrus asked, sensing the shift in her demeanor.

"Why would they sacrifice an Awakened just to get to you?"

Cyrus froze at her words. He hadn't considered it, but the idea of sacrificing an Awakened to ensnare him was troubling.

"There are four possibilities I can think of. First, they may not have set you up but instead took advantage of your situation. Second, they might have orchestrated the setup, and a mistake occurred, though I doubt that. 

Finally, the worst conclusion for you: if they were the ones who laid the trap and they really sacrificed an Awakened Elite, they could be after your status as an Artificer. As for their intentions, I can't say for sure. But I doubt they'd spare you after sacrificing one Awakened Elite, even if Tracy and I confront the Archon," Yuna explained gravely.

"What about the fourth?" Cyrus narrowed his eyes.

Yuna's tone became a bit absentminded, her gaze clouded. "I don't think it's possible, but my fourth conclusion is that it might all be a sham and that the person is still alive." She regained her composure, her voice turning serious. "However, that's not what you should focus on now. What matters is how to survive. I want to warn you: most people with this watch won't make it."

The rims of Cyrus's eyes trembled.

Narrowing her eyes, Yuna said, her tone dripping with temptation, "But… there is one better path to survival. I wonder if you have the courage to take it."