The Castle's Glass Greenhouse

Though the golden Sun Scepter had snapped into two pieces, one could still glimpse the splendor it must have possessed when whole. This was undoubtedly an artifact of extraordinary value; whoever owned it had surely been a towering figure of immense power.

Liszt reached out and took out one half of the scepter.

It was a rod with a metallic texture, yet he could not tell what metal it had been made from. It felt moderately heavy in his hand, perhaps slightly lighter than an iron rod of the same size. The patterns upon it were highly regular, ring within ring, though he had no idea what they were meant to express.

At the very end of the scepter was a finger-length hexagonal column.

The broken cross-section was jagged, with interlocking notches. It had not been cut or smashed apart, but seemed to have fractured under some kind of stress.

"So it isn't one kind of metal, but a metal rod cast layer by layer." Studying the colors on the broken surface, Liszt came to a conclusion.

The fracture displayed variations like tree rings.

At the very center was a transparent triangular core, only as thick as a finger, like some sort of crystal. Around it was a ring of silvery-white metal, circular in shape and encasing the triangular crystal. Beyond that was a layer of gray metal in a hexagonal structure. Then came pale-blue metal, circular in structure.

Only the outermost layer was golden metal, likewise circular, as thick as a baby's arm.

The boundaries between the five layers were distinct in color, yet they had been arranged with extreme precision. Their thickness was uniform, and they had almost fused into one. Such casting techniques had already surpassed Liszt's understanding. At the very least, there were no Iron Knights