Lith pointed at the Golems and Ragnarök, lingering on the latter longer.
Trouble and Raptor were the only working applications he had found for memory crystals. They granted the constructs part of Lith’s bloodline abilities, spells, but most importantly, his wits.
By retaining a sliver of his consciousness, the memory crystals granted the Golems the ability to improvise instead of following a precise pattern and to learn from experience.
On top of that, due to the link with Lith and between each other, the constructs could share the acquired knowledge and improve faster. Being a novice with Creation Magic, Lith was afraid that once recycled, the Spirit Memory Crystal would lose both his energy signature and the stored memories.
Elemental crystals weren’t supposed to be detached after the Forgemastering process and Lith knew that without the mana pathways of an artifact keeping an elemental gemstone stable, they would quickly revert to a simple white crystal.
As for Ragnarök, the situation was much more complicated since the angry blade was semi-sentient and had a personality of its own. The smallest mistake while casting Dismantle would have turned a unique masterpiece into an unremarkable pile of metal.
By keeping Salaark to his side during the whole process, Lith would gain first-hand experience in handling powerful artifacts with Creation Magic and also have the certainty that nothing would go wrong.
Two birds with one Phoenix.
“So this is bribery.” Salaark waved at the setup with her spoon filled with ice cream before bringing it to her mouth.
“More like an incentive to spend quality time with the family.” Lith shrugged, Warping Shargein, Valeron the Second, and Elysia to the Forge. “The kids love light shows and love their mom/grandma even more.”
“Bribery it is.” Salaark sighed despite having to admit that it was a perfect trap.
Elysia was still too small to sit, stand, or even roll so unless someone held her, she could only stare at the ceiling. Shargein, however, had already grown bigger than a seven years old human boy and could easily lift her.
The two Wyrmling couldn’t speak well and had no concept of mind links but they could still hold proper baby-conversations via their Dragon scales. Once Elysia assumed her Tiamat form and Valeron his Bahamut form, they could express themselves as much as their young brains could process.
It was how Elysia told Shargein what she wanted to look at and when. Valeron was already big and old enough to stand up by leaning on the crib. After over two months, small, soft feathers had covered Elysia’s second set of wings.
They were red-veined and black like those of her father, but she could change their color at will, based on the element that she channeled and amplified. Thick golden feathers covered Valeron’s eagle head and the wings coming out of his hips.
After over her year, his feathered wings had grown so much that now they matched his membranous wings in size.
Salaark was proud of both of them, seeing a spark of herself in the baby girl and one of Tyris in the baby boy.
“You are lucky that I love these little imps too much to leave you high and dry.” She caressed the Wyrmlings’ wings, glad that Shargein wouldn’t grow up feeling alone.
He was the first natural perfect merging of the Phoenix and Dragon bloodlines. His life forces were exactly like those of Elysia and Valeron, growing together instead of clashing for dominance.
It made him unique, but it would also make him lonely once he grew up enough to understand his condition. Since the other two kids were in his same boat, however, they would have at least someone who could empathize with their respective situations.
“How do you plan to keep them quiet until you start? I doubt that baby cries won’t disturb your focus.” Salaark asked.
“Well, we have invited you here to share a little something with you.” Solus chuckled, unleashing a stream of soap bubbles the size of an orange in front of the stunned Overlord and the giggling children.
Salaark could easily do something like that, but it required chore magic just to form water bubbles and light magic to give them color. The thick soap bubbles, instead, needed no external help and reflected the light in the room, forming colorful rainbows on their surface.
The kids replied by playing their own version of skeet shooting, hurling small balls of flames at the bubbles to make them pop. They couldn’t keep a score since none of them knew how to count, but Salaark noticed how the biggest bubbles were always the priority.
“Da! Da! Da!” The children chanted until Solus released a second stream of soap bubbles that was welcomed with another volley of Origin Flames.
“That’s remarkable.” Salaark said while trying to understand the phenomenon.
“Don’t bother. Here’s the formula.” Solus handed her a piece of paper and a cylindric container holding a dense mix of water and detergent.
The kids followed the passing of the torch with their eyes and begged the Overlord with their cooing. Salaark happily obliged, producing more bubbles for the children to shoot down.
Meanwhile, outside the tower, Aran and Leria were teaching Kamila how to fly with a yellow core. After the last fiasco, she had decided to only practice in open spaces and start slow, gradually increasing the speed as she achieved fine control over the air currents.
The kids would from time to time raise sand pillars that she had to dodge or conjure a well-spaced obstacle course to teach her basic air maneuvers. They had already reached the bright yellow but they still remembered well their own struggles with flight spells and the too many hard butt-landings.
“You are doing great, Aunt Kami!” Aran cheered for her.
“Come on, Abominus! You are stronger and more experienced. How can you fall behind her?” Leria yelled suggestions that distracted the poor Ry, making him slam against the sand with his huge behind.
The magical beast was indeed stronger. He had a bright cyan core and a body the size of a pony.
Yet despite his natural affinity for air magic, not touching the ground scared Abominus and he moved awkwardly through the air, trying to adjust his trajectory with his legs instead of his mana.
The result was that Abominus came dead last in every race.
Onyx always arrived first. After evolving into an Emperor Beast, she had gained a set of purple membranous wings and new instincts that helped her hone her flying skills by leaps and bounds during practice.
Kamila arrived second, panting like a bellows due to her weak core being ill-suited for a high-speed chase with sharp turns, but glad to not be last.
“I’m trying, farm me sideways!” Abominus cursed his wolfish instincts after slamming against one of the sand pillars one time too many. “That’s cheating, by the way. It’s not fair competing against someone with wings.”
“I call it a skill issue, instead.” Onyx said with a huge grin on her feline snout. “Even the pipsq- I mean, Aunt Kami flies better than you.”
“Yeah, *even* I.” Kamila snorted.
“Bad, Onyx! Bad! Don’t be rude to Aunt Kami. She’s doing her best.” Aran scolded the Utgard.
