The smiths were direct about what they needed.
They handed Kazim a written list—materials, weights, and notes scribbled in the margins. Crystals alone wouldn't be enough. What we had used so far worked, but only against creatures. Against academy soldiers and VIP weapons, it wasn't reliable.
"We need something that changes how the crystal behaves," one of the smiths explained. "Not just harder. More stable under stress."
That was where the meteors came in.
According to the summoners, certain portal worlds had floating landmasses rich in meteor fragments. These weren't ordinary stones. They carried dense structures that reacted well when fused with crystal energy, improving durability and reducing fracture under impact.
Monisha helped open the portals, but this time she didn't do it alone. She worked with a few other summoners, guiding them, correcting mistakes, and stabilizing the entry points. Watching her teach them felt strange—she was calm, patient, nothing like the person the academy had tried to break.
The portal led to a fragmented environment—uneven ground, low gravity in some areas, heavy pull in others. Movement was difficult, and the meteor fragments were often embedded deep in rock. We had to work carefully to extract them without causing collapses.
Ren handled positioning and safety. Aira helped clear debris when it shifted unexpectedly. I focused on cutting the fragments free while the summoners kept the portal stable. It wasn't fast, and it wasn't easy, but after several trips, we gathered enough material to return.
Back at camp, the smiths got to work immediately.
They melted the crystal first, then introduced the meteor material in controlled amounts. The process took time. Too much heat damaged the crystal. Too little and the materials wouldn't bind properly. Kazim stayed with them, helping adjust energy flow and monitoring stability.
I watched more than I spoke.
It was the first time I'd seen smithing done this way—not rushed, not forced. Every step had a reason behind it.
After two days, the armor was ready.
It looked different than before. Less smooth. More layered. The edges were shaped to deflect rather than absorb force, and the joints were reinforced to prevent weak points. The smiths said the design was intentional.
"If they see you," one of them said, "we want them to hesitate."
We tested the armor carefully. Cuts that would've damaged the old set barely left marks now. Movement felt more controlled, not heavier.
"It's better," Kazim said after running his checks. "Not perfect. But it'll hold."
That was enough for me.
This wasn't about looking powerful.
It was about surviving what came next.
And now, we had a better chance