The moment his finger touched [Guardian's Gift], the icon glowed faintly and text appeared beside it:
"This is a gift from the Kings to a newly risen paladin. It contains:
[A Paladin's Self-Cultivation – Volume I]
[Call of the Holy Light]
[Paladin Combat Arts – Novice]
[Divine Shield (Fragment)]
[Blacksmithing Plans: Verigan's Fist]
[Alchemy Recipe: Flask of Talent]
[Enchantment: Awaken].
Go forth with courage, friend—under the guidance of the Holy Light!"
Haldryn waited a moment. Nothing else happened, so he tapped twice more. [Guardian's Gift] flashed and vanished. Golden light shimmered along the tome's edges.
He turned to the fifth page and found A Paladin's Self-Cultivation – Volume I.
The text was long. It explained the origin and purpose of the Tome of the Kings, its basic operation, and some fundamentals of the Holy Light.
According to the volume, the Tome had been created by a group of great paladins known as the Kings, meant to spread the Holy Light across the cosmos. It imposed few strict rules—only vague statements such as "a paladin must hold to something." What that something was, why it mattered, and what happened if one failed were left unsaid. The Holy Light, it seemed, did not particularly care.
Every bearer chosen by the Tome would walk the path of the paladin, uphold justice in the world, and might one day join the ranks of the Kings themselves…
The operational section was far more important.
The Tome's core system worked by gathering "Piety" through various means, then spending it in the Piety Shop.
The shop sold no physical goods; every purchase appeared as a page stored inside the Tome.
There were two main ways to gain Piety. One was the Book of Trials—though Haldryn still had no idea what that was.
The other was… donation.
The Tome called it "donation." In practice it meant selling valuable items to the Piety Shop for Piety. The more you gave, the more pious you became.
Pages had a default order, but the bearer could rearrange them by will. Want the first page? Open to it. Want the tenth? Open to it. Convenient, if a little cheeky.
Following the instructions, Haldryn turned the next page. Exactly as he had hoped, [Divine Shield (Fragment)] appeared.
Divine Shield—the most famous paladin ability in World of Warcraft. Simple. Absolute. Invulnerability.
A paladin under Divine Shield became immune to all attacks for its duration. No blow, no matter how powerful, could harm them.
Mjolnir to the skull? Fine.
Stormbreaker to the neck? Fine.
Thanos's snap? Put on a freestyle track and listen.
Invulnerability meant freedom.
If the effect worked perfectly in reality, the possibilities were intoxicating. But… what did "Fragment" mean?
[Divine Shield (Fragment): Places the target in a state of absolute invulnerability, immune to all negative effects, for 1 second. Removes existing curses, poisons, and similar afflictions. Requires Call of the Holy Light to cast. Upon use, the fragment is consumed. To learn the full spell, master every other ability and collect at least one hundred fragments.]
After reading the description carefully, Haldryn's excitement cooled. His brow furrowed.
Defensively, the fragment matched the game's Divine Shield—true absolute immunity. The Tome claimed as much.
But one second? That was absurdly short.
And it was single-use. A fragment. Once spent, gone. Learning the real Divine Shield required mastering every other spell and gathering a hundred fragments—who knew how long that would take.
In other words, the fragment was a last-ditch survival tool, and even then it might not save him. One second vanished in a blink; against a truly powerful foe it would change nothing.
Maybe it could block a snap?
Timed perfectly, one second might be enough to survive the snap. But Thor hadn't been born yet. Thanos's universe-shaking snap was thousands of years away. Who could say what would change by then?
Still, in these restless days of Asgard, the fragment offered a measure of security. No matter how terrifying the enemy, he could at least keep his dignity for one full second—or show off for one.
Next came [Blacksmithing Plans: Verigan's Fist].
Haldryn remembered that starter hammer well. He had nearly run his legs off collecting the materials for it, but the effort had been worth it. For an early-game paladin, nothing felt more right in the hand.
[Verigan's Fist
Type: Warhammer
Standard item level: 4
Primary materials: Kor's Gem, Jordan's Refined Ore.
Blacksmithing technique: …]
Unlike his memory, the plans listed only two main materials. It looked simpler.
But this wasn't a game. Where was he supposed to find Kor's Gem or Jordan's Refined Ore in Asgard?
He frowned and kept reading.
Most of the text was dense technical detail on forging, hard to parse, but some passages were clear enough.
One section read: [Forging completion is ranked in seven grades from lowest to highest: Failure, Crude, Ordinary, Fine, Excellent, Perfect (standard item level), and Transcendent. Completion is evaluated by the plans. It depends on materials and the smith's skill. Substitute materials may be used; their suitability is also evaluated by the plans.]
Materials could be substituted?
That was a relief. Forging Verigan's Fist in Asgard might not be impossible after all.
He felt the urge to try immediately—and at the same time, a wave of worry.
What could he sell?
As a supreme artifact crafted by the Kings themselves, the Tome surely would not accept trash.
And as a lowly commoner, Haldryn felt he owned little but trash.
Fortunately, an Asgardian commoner was still no ordinary mortal. Compared to most beings in the cosmos, every Asgardian stood high above.
He pulled open a drawer and found several dozen gold coins of various sizes. In Asgard, gold was a common metal, roughly equivalent to copper in ancient Midgard—used as everyday currency.
Even a minor like Haldryn having a few coins was normal.
Asgardian gold coins were not pure gold. Asgardians were all immensely strong; pure gold would bend like soft clay in their hands. The coins were a gold alloy, roughly seventy percent pure, tough enough that casual handling never damaged them.
They were large and heavy—more like medallions than coins. Even the smaller ones matched the size of ordinary Earth coins and weighed impressively.
In his previous life Haldryn had never seen so much gold at once. He couldn't help thinking that the people of the golden realm truly were rich.
Gold shouldn't count as trash.
The Tome required appraisal before donation; the Piety Shop would accept nothing otherwise. He dumped the coins onto the Appraisal Codex. Moments later text appeared:
[Level-1 items. Donate all for 19.73 Piety.]
He flipped to the Piety Shop and dropped the coins in. They sank into the page as if into water. Piety rose from 0.00 to 19.73.
With currency in hand, the only available purchase was the Gift of Fate.
Its description: Gift of Fate – Anything is possible.
A lottery, basically.
Lucky streak, lucky streak… he muttered, and bought one.
When he turned the page again, something appeared that made his eyes go wide.
"This is…"
^^^
Hey guys! If you've been thinking about subscribing to my patron, now's the perfect time. There's currently up to 50% off!
[Every 100 Powerstones = 1 Bonus Chapter]
If you'd like to read up to 50 chapters ahead, please visit our p@treon: