Chapter 294: Mysterious Reconfigurations

Regaleon’s expression changed the instant the strange sensation became more persistent than he had anticipated.

He glanced down at the Halberd resting in his hands, searching its polished surface for some indication of what might have caused the disturbance. The weapon remained perfectly still, its blade reflecting the dim crimson illumination filtering through the ruined temple.

Its newly ascended aura was unmistakable, carrying the dignified weight of a Count Tier Soul Essence, yet nothing about its appearance suggested that anything was amiss.

Regaleon furrowed his brows in thought. ’If it isn’t the Halberd, then what is it?’

The sensation had originated somewhere within his consciousness, but its source remained frustratingly elusive. It was not painful, nor did it resemble the familiar flow of Aether through his veins. Instead, it felt like something had established a connection with him, gently tugging at his awareness while waiting for him to acknowledge its presence.

Unfortunately, he had no idea what that something might be.

His disturbance did not escape Aureleah’s attention. The silver-haired Assassin had been attempting to draw more information out of him through her uncharacteristically persistent questioning, and she immediately noticed that his attention had wandered elsewhere.

She raised an eyebrow and asked. "Regaleon, is something wrong?"

Although her voice remained composed, an infinitesimal hint of concern had crept into her silver eyes. She would not have recognized it herself, much less admitted to it, but something about the sight of Regaleon looking troubled had unsettled her.

The Forgotten Knight, however, was too preoccupied with the unfamiliar sensation to notice the subtle change in her expression.

"Hm?" He lifted his head and offered her a small smile. "Ah, no. Everything is fine."

The reassurance had barely left his mouth when a soft metallic click sounded from his right forearm...

CLICK!

Regaleon froze...

In the stillness of the ruined temple, where even the faint rustling of clothing had become noticeable, the sound was startlingly distinct. It was no louder than the movement of a small mechanism, yet it rang through the silence with the unsettling finality of a lock turning inside a sealed door.

Before Regaleon could determine its source, another click answered from his left forearm...

CLICK!!

His expression stiffened.

Slowly, his golden eyes descended towards the Armour covering his body and what he saw left him utterly speechless.

The Soul Essence that had accompanied him through countless battles was moving. Not shifting in response to his movements, nor reacting to an incoming attack, but adjusting its own structure without any apparent command from its owner.

A series of sharp metallic clanks followed, each more pronounced than the last...

CLICK! CLICK!! CLICK!!!

The plates surrounding his gauntlets slid backwards before extending again, their edges gliding past one another with astonishing precision.

Segments along his forearms separated by the narrowest margins, then locked into unfamiliar positions, producing a sequence of mechanical sounds that seemed almost deliberate.

Regaleon stared at his arms in disbelief.

"What in Aetherium...?" But his question received no answer.

The movements spread beyond his gauntlets, advancing towards his elbows and pauldrons. Each piece of the Armour adjusted independently, yet the movements remained perfectly coordinated, as though an invisible artisan were dismantling and reconstructing the entire suit without ever removing a single component.

The chest plates followed.

Overlapping sections along his torso shifted apart, revealing narrow seams that had never been visible before. The plates then slid into new alignments, their surfaces catching the dim light as concealed patterns emerged and disappeared beneath the changing arrangement.

Even the faulds protecting his waist and the cuisses, greaves, and sabatons covering his legs began to move.

Metallic segments rotated, extended, and settled into positions that appeared impossible given the Armour’s original construction. The greaves tightened around his shins before separating into articulated layers, while the sabatons adjusted around his feet with a series of crisp clicks.

It was as though the Armour had suddenly remembered an entirely different anatomy.

Yet the movements were neither chaotic nor destructive. Every plate seemed to know precisely where it belonged, following a design that had remained concealed until this very moment.

A design even Regaleon himself had never known existed.

His golden eyes widened with astonishment.

He had spent countless hours examining his Soul Essence, testing its capabilities and familiarizing himself with its peculiarities. Although he still understood remarkably little about its unusual appetite for Aether, he had never imagined that the Armour might possess hidden structural configurations.

And yet, here it was, rearranging itself as though it had grown tired of his ignorance and decided to demonstrate its capabilities without consulting him first.

Regaleon might have appreciated the initiative under different circumstances.

Unfortunately, his Soul Essence had chosen to surprise him while he was standing in the middle of a ruined temple surrounded by companions who were considerably more interested in the spectacle than he was comfortable with.

Before he could recover from his astonishment, another metallic sound rang out and his helmet manifested around his head.

There was no warning, no deliberate activation, and certainly no consent from its owner. One moment, Regaleon’s face was exposed; the next, the helmet had materialized over his head, its polished surface enclosing his features with a decisive metallic snap.

He nearly jumped.

Regaleon rarely manifested his helmet during battle unless circumstances demanded it. Although it offered additional protection, he found its restricted field of vision cumbersome, particularly when fighting opponents whose movements required constant observation.

He preferred to maintain an unobstructed view of his surroundings, relying on his reflexes and awareness rather than allowing a piece of metal to dictate where he could look.

Moreover, once a battle ended, he generally demanifested his helmet as soon as it was safe to do so. His head remaining encased in a full mask of metal while conversing with his companions was hardly his idea of comfort.

Now, however, the helmet had appeared without his permission making Regaleon’s shoulders stiffened beneath the Armour.

He tried to demanifest the helmet next but nothing happened and this led to his expression darkening.

"What’s happening?" Vaelorin demanded, instinctively stepping backwards.

The red-haired youth stared at Regaleon as though the latter had suddenly transformed into an entirely different species. His hand tightened around his staff, although he seemed uncertain whether he ought to prepare for combat or simply find somewhere safe to stand.

Given their experiences in the Nether Lands, the distinction was not always obvious.

Kaeloris adjusted his spectacles, his scholarly composure giving way to genuine bewilderment.

"The plates are moving independently, yet their movements remain synchronized," he observed, his eyes following the shifting segments with intense concentration. "There is no visible external force acting upon them, and I cannot detect any obvious mechanism responsible for the changes."

He leaned forward slightly, attempting to examine the Armour more closely.

"It almost appears as though Regaleon’s Soul Essence is directing the rearrangement according to some predetermined design. However, I cannot say whether the Armour is responding to an unconscious command or initiating the process independently."

He paused, his brows knitting together.

"Either possibility is concerning for entirely different reasons."

Even the group’s resident scholar, whose curiosity often exceeded his instinct for self-preservation, could not offer a satisfactory explanation.

He understood the principles underlying Soul Essences better than most of his companions, but knowledge had its limits, particularly when confronted with a phenomenon that appeared to contradict the assumptions upon which that knowledge rested.

If Regaleon himself could not explain what his Armour was doing, there was little reason to expect anyone else to succeed.

Consequently, the group could do nothing but watch in bewildered silence.

Aureleah’s questions had ceased entirely. Her silver eyes followed each shifting plate with unwavering attention, while Valmyr stood beside Sylveris, his broad frame partially shielding the younger girl out of instinct.

Sylveris, meanwhile, looked torn between fascination and apprehension. She had seen Regaleon fight before, but she had never witnessed his Armour behaving like a living thing.

Caelestra watched him with mounting concern. Her usual smile had faded into a thoughtful expression, and her fingers rested against the edge of her Treasure Chest as though the familiar weight might reassure her that at least one thing in their immediate vicinity remained predictable.

Regaleon, however, was preoccupied with a more immediate problem.

He attempted to recall his Armour into his consciousness, hoping that forcibly demanifesting it might interrupt whatever transformation was taking place.

The connection responded.

Indeed, it felt stronger than before, its presence unmistakable and perhaps even more pronounced than it had been before the Halberd’s ascension.

Yet the Armour itself refused to obey.

It was not that Regaleon had lost control of his Soul Essence. Rather, the connection remained intact while the Armour continued its mysterious work, as though it had temporarily assigned his commands a lower priority.

He could sense it clearly, but he could not compel it to stop. Before he could even attempt another approach, the metallic clanking accelerated.

The impacts echoed throughout the ruined chamber, overlapping until the sound resembled an intricate orchestra composed entirely of iron and steel. Every plate seemed to be completing the final stages of its rearrangement, locking into place with increasing speed.

Then golden sparks ignited across the Armour.

One appeared along Regaleon’s wrist, another flickered at his shoulder and a third emerged across his chest, illuminating a pattern of fine markings that had previously remained concealed beneath the overlapping plates.

Regaleon’s breath caught.

Light spread between the shifting segments like molten sunlight finding its way through cracks in a mountain. The markings flared in succession, their intricate patterns changing so rapidly that he could scarcely follow them.

Golden lines raced across his forearms, climbed his pauldrons, and converged upon the chest plate, tracing unfamiliar designs over the metal.

The entire Armour seemed to awaken from a slumber that had endured for centuries and before anyone could react, the Soul Essence erupted in a blinding golden radiance...