Five-Character Battle Armor Concept Art, Silver Dragon's Choice

"What?" The gray-robed Spirit Master looked stunned, pointing a finger at himself.

Facing Tang Ziran's fawning smile, he let out a scoff instead, asking with a hint of shortness of breath, "Do you even know the identity of that person?"

"We have to deliberately avoid even discussing that person, or even casting a glance in that direction."

"Do you think I have the ability to help you?"

"Please, just a little help, just a little..." Tang Ziran hurriedly pulled out a small roll of Federal Coin, slipping it over while shaking the other man's hand.

As he stuffed the money into his hand, he added, "I have something good here that Young Master Dragon will definitely be interested in. Please, I'm begging you."

But the man shook him off, pointing toward the gate. "I'm asking you to leave now. Don't make me lose my job."

Tang Ziran was shoved back two steps. Looking at the man's grim face, he fell into a state of silence and dilemma.

Finally, he let out a sigh, lowered his head, and walked toward the exit in low spirits.

Suddenly, two "tap-tap" sounds of heels striking the floor echoed from outside the hall doors.

It was the blond man in white who always stood guard behind the dragon-surnamed youth.

"Take him to the internal elevator. The top floor button has been unlocked," the Holy Dragon King commanded before instantly transforming into a streak of light and ascending.

Tang Ziran was startled, but he secretly let out a breath of relief in his heart, thinking: If even a servant is this strong, it seems I've found the right person.

He gripped the wedding ring on the ring finger of his left hand tightly and strode forward to follow the gray-robed Spirit Master's lead.

Help?

Or...

Not help?

Na'er's heart was caught in a fierce internal struggle.

Should she gamble her future to pay the price for her own budding romantic feelings, or continue to act as the Silver Dragon King, the sovereign of all soul beasts?

"Na'er, am I very cowardly?" Tang Wulin suddenly lifted his face, as if he had finally calmed down.

Na'er shook her head subconsciously.

Tang Wulin looked into his arms: the little Grass Snake was crawling around, carefree.

A bitter, dry sentence tumbled from his lips: "Na... Na'er, you go out first, I..."

"I want to fuse with this Soul Spirit."

He said this with great difficulty, almost gasping with every word, as if he were draining the vitality of the rest of his life.

Na'er asked with some hesitation, "But, isn't this one bad?"

Tang Wulin gave a miserable smile. "It's already not easy for Mom and Dad to support us; I can't add any more burdens to them."

"Dad just said he would help me raise money to buy a new Soul Spirit, but..."

"Our family, our family doesn't have much money to begin with. I can't let Mom and Dad work themselves to the bone."

Tang Wulin's small shoulders twitched as he hugged the Soul Spirit orb. "Even though it's very bad, it's still a Soul Spirit, right? It can let me break through the bottleneck and become a Soul Master, can't it?"

"Once my Blue Silver Grass fuses with it, I'll be able to receive the Spirit Pagoda subsidy."

Na'er stared at him blankly. "Brother..."

Tang Wulin finally managed to squeeze a trace of a smile onto the corners of his mouth. "It's okay, Na'er. Your brother here will just pretend that these past three years... were a dream of yearning for the stars and the sea."

"Sigh, perhaps just staying in the forging room all day, hammering away, is what suits my life best."

At this moment, Tang Wulin smiled—it was a smile of compromise with fate.

At this, Na'er actually felt a sense of relief and obediently followed Tang Wulin's words, walking out of their room.

She no longer had to make a choice, because Tang Wulin had already made the compromise; Na'er only needed to follow his lead and let things take their natural course.

Every time the internal elevator rose a floor, a blue-and-white light scanned across Tang Ziran's face.

When the third blue-and-white ring stopped over his head, the elevator reached the top with a "thud," and then opened with a "ding."

A sturdy Sun Soul Master, dressed in black, shimmering tight-fitting gear, blocked the elevator exit.

Tang Ziran only felt the man's eyes, like scorching sunlight, shining onto his face, seemingly confirming his target.

"Follow me," the Sun Soul Master instructed, stepping toward the tiled inner corridor on the left.

Immediately, another Sun Soul Master stepped in from the right to fill the post, perfectly illustrating the meaning of security efficiency.

"Fong—ping ding!"

"Fong—ping ding!"

A series of rhythmic hammering sounds echoed through the luxurious corridor.

As Tang Ziran was led through several twists and turns, he realized he was moving deeper toward the source of the sound.

After only a dozen seconds, upon passing the final corner, the blond man in white—the one whose strength was unknown and who had summoned him up—appeared in Tang Ziran's line of sight once more.

The golden-haired man in white seemed to be guarding a forging room, from which the sounds of rushing wind and rhythmic hammering never ceased.

The door opened.

A blast of scorching heat rushed out to meet them, accompanied by the deafening clangor of metal striking metal.

The young master surnamed Long, whom they had met that morning, had now tied his shoulder-length purple hair behind his ears.

His left hand gripped a piece of deep purple crystal ore, pressing it against the forging table, while his right hand raised a pitch-black hexagonal stone, hammering it incessantly against the crystal.

Even though Tang Ziran was a backbone-level designer for the Federation, he could not identify the specific rare materials of this purple crystal or the black stone.

He was equally baffled by the pitch-black stone layer covering the forging table, and the Crimson Burning Fire Ring embedded in its center, which served as a furnace—what kind of magical creation could it be?

However, he understood the forging technique of this young master surnamed Long; this seemingly crude, brute force was actually a display of supreme skill that transcended artifice.

Tang Ziran was stunned, as if, by stepping through this door, he had traveled back from the era of Soul Tools to the age of ancient mythology.

Dragon Emperor ceased his hammering of his predecessor's remains, extinguished the Fire Dragon King Crown that was roasting the entire forging room, and put away the deformed Crow-Absolute Stone in his hand.

He glanced toward the door and said calmly, "Backbone-level mecha designer of the Federation, Tang Muran."

Tang Ziran, or rather Tang Muran, felt a jolt in his heart and gave a bitter smile. "So, you really did find out..."

Dragon Emperor had no interest in listening to his nonsense, instead using his habitual commanding tone: "For the sake of your son, I will give you ten breaths of time to state the purpose of your visit."

Tang Muran bowed slightly, pulled off the wedding ring he had been clutching, pried a thinner wire ring from the inner band, and injected Soul Power to activate it.

A faint light from a storage Soul Tool flickered...

With a soft rustle, several perfectly overlapping translucent blueprints appeared out of thin air in Tang Muran's hands.

The papers were covered in dense geometric compositions and textual descriptions, all six of them.

The translucent sheets were layered one by one:

Headband + control core;

Chest armor + back armor;

Shoulder armor + arm armor + gauntlets;

Waist guard + battle skirt;

Thigh and calf armor + open-toed battle boots;

These elements combined to form a set of ultra-small mecha: Battle Armor.

Dragon Emperor's golden eyes lit up, and he finally turned to face him directly.

Tang Muran did not waste a single word: "Since Young Master Dragon knows my former identity, you should know why I had to flee."

"It is precisely because of this fruit of ultra-small mecha, which required the top designers of the entire Federation to achieve a breakthrough."

"These six unique copies of the Level 5 Battle Armor Concept Blueprint."