In the days that followed, Ang hardly had a moment to spare.
With the World Tree brought under his command, the number of Second-tier experts under him skyrocketed—from fewer than twenty to a sudden one hundred and fifty-eight.
That number was astonishing for any faction, a seven- or eightfold increase.
Though such an enormous boost pleased Ang, the responsibilities and burdens that came with it left him almost breathless.
The elves were relatively easy to manage. They already had their own elven armor and only needed Ang to provide rare materials before they could forge it themselves.
But giants and ogres were different. They relied entirely on Ang's planning and arrangements, especially the thirty-one giants.
Though these giants were of the same race, their elemental preferences varied wildly: fire, frost, lightning, storms, tides, rock... each was different.
Such diversity made uniform production impossible.
For them to truly unleash their strength, each of them needed a deeply customized set of Enchanted Armament perfectly suited to their elemental affinity.
Thus, over the following months, Ang's presence could be seen almost everywhere.
He personally led hunting parties to kill Level 5 Magical Beasts, obtaining incomparably precious enchanting materials such as flesh, bones, magic crystals, and souls.
Every hunt was a desperate struggle between life and death, with blood and fire intertwined.
But Ang did not retreat. He knew this was laying the foundation for the future.
At the same time, he frequently contacted the legendary experts he had met before, purchasing large quantities of magical ore through their channels.
These ores were so rare that they were nearly impossible to find. If Ang had not already risen to prominence within the empire, such transactions could never have gone so smoothly.
Day after day, four months quietly passed.
The furnaces of the Magic Workshop