[[Fruit of Svartalfheim], where did you get this?]
The expression on the chicken’s face was one Blaze had never seen before: three parts solemnity, three parts shock, three parts ecstasy, and one part... sheer terror.
"For a chicken, you sure have a complicated range of expressions," Blaze noted.
[You have absolutely no idea what this fruit means!]
"The lost wisdom of the Dwarves and the curse of the One-Eyed Deity, obviously. So, I figured the seed inside would be perfectly suited for you."
Blaze nonchalantly brought the fruit toward the Twisted Giant Sword, intending to split it in half and extract the pit.
[Wait—]
The chicken immediately darted in front of the fruit. Despite being a Spirit Body, he put a lot of effort into making a blocking motion.
"What’s wrong? If I break the fruit, will the Dwarven wisdom inside disappear?"
[Not exactly. Only the flesh of the fruit contains the wisdom, and it only takes a single drop of juice to lift a Dwarf’s curse.]
"Then if I break it, will the One-Eyed Deity who cast the curse notice?"
[No. He will only notice if someone acquires the Profession of [Eternal Master Artisan].]
"Then why are you trying to stop me?"
[Well, how should I put this...]
The chicken squirmed, putting on a coy expression and an affected posture that essentially translated to:
"Although someone as noble as I, once fully grown into the rooster of High Heaven, would deem you unworthy to even carry my shoes, right now I am nothing! Even if you give me such a precious item, I have absolutely nothing to offer in return!"
In short, he was too embarrassed to accept it—especially since Blaze didn’t seem to realize how precious the item was. Yet, he had still given a warning, albeit while worrying that doing so might cost him the item.
"I really don’t know what this is used for..." Blaze split the fruit in half and took out one of the seeds.
[Seed of ???]
Even with the [Botany] Skill, he couldn’t discern anything about the seed, which meant it originated from an existence far more powerful than him.
"But having the future rooster of High Heaven owe me a massive favor isn’t a bad idea."
[Human...]
The chicken looked deeply moved. Then, as if having made up his mind, he flapped his wings and flew into the center of Blaze’s palm, landing right next to the seed.
[Use your Skill!]
[Do you wish to use your Skill to bind the entity Vidforlir with the Seed of ???]
"Confirm."
Amidst the chicken’s loud BAWK BAWK BAWK, the seed merged with him, and its name updated.
[Seed of Vidforlir]
[A seed hosting a noble soul. It grants Life to a deceased soul and allows it to grow once more.]
"Next, I just need to put this into the chicken skeleton."
Blaze placed the seed where the chicken skeleton’s heart would be. The moment he let go, the seed began to sprout and grow.
It was like watching a skeletal creature regenerate its flesh and blood. First came the blood vessels, then the connective tissues, and finally, the skin and feathers.
"I’ve been resurrected!"
The chicken let out an even louder, more boisterous squawk. The good news was that his voice was no longer echoing directly inside Blaze’s head. The bad news was that Blaze was wearing a helmet and couldn’t cover his ears.
Blaze placed the two halves of the fruit back into his inventory, where they stacked neatly together. Another slot displayed six [Seeds of ???].
"How does it feel?"
"Wonderful! As expected of that seed, it has perfectly adapted to my soul." The chicken stretched his wings like a human admiring his own body, exceptionally narcissistic as he preened his feathers with his beak.
"This body should be a few weeks older than your soul," Blaze remarked, gesturing at the chicken’s size.
"It’s a bit stiff, but that’s to be expected."
The chicken flapped his wings. His little narcissistic mannerisms were fine, but his actual, proper movements resembled a zombie with stiff limbs.
The body grew according to the soul, and the soul grew alongside the body. This was a congenital closed loop established at birth.
For the dead, re-entering this closed loop was akin to resurrection. The Blessed Ones were an exception; they were naturally endowed with resurrection upon birth, so very few Blessed Ones ever bothered to research it.
What a Night Watcher could achieve was equivalent to a temporary resurrection, restoring a soul’s capacity for growth.
"The claws of the Nemean Lion have integrated seamlessly into this body," the chicken said, scratching a rock with his foot. Despite looking like comical chick talons, they effortlessly left deep gouges in the solid stone. "Once my soul finishes developing this body, it will retain the structural data of the Nemean Lion’s claws. Next time, even without using them as materials, I will still be able to grow the exact same claws."
"So, as long as I keep adding Monster materials to your body, you can grow infinitely stronger?" Blaze muttered dryly. "Is my Profession a Night Watcher, or a pet breeding master?"
"Only a noble soul like mine can transform a lion’s claws into my own claws! If any other soul swapped in materials from another species, it would lose its original shape entirely and devolve into an amalgamated Chimera Monster."
"Huh? I’ve seen many Necromancer-type Professions do similar things. They can piece together bones from various creatures like a jigsaw puzzle."
"That is merely finding a driver to pilot a Monster made of bones. Typically, it only results in two outcomes: the skeletal body is too strong and shatters the soul upon use, or the soul is too strong and shatters the body upon use."
Speaking of which, Blaze had once fantasized about becoming a Necromancer. The tattered, ruined style of their robes was undeniably cool.
But the cruel truth was that Necromancer-type Professions consumed an exorbitant amount of resources. To borrow a phrase from the Foreigners, poor bastards weren’t even fit to be dead.
Unable to afford Bone Dragons, some frustrated Foreigners had resorted to scavenging all sorts of random bones, cobbling together a mock bone dragon using a miraculous technique they called "DIY."
"Human, do you have any particularly close Dwarf friends?"
"I do. Why?"
"If you want to defeat the Traitors, you must have a Dwarf reforge your weapon," the chicken said, flying onto the crossguard of the Twisted Giant Sword and patting the hilt with his wing. "Setting the other Traitors aside for now, the lion possesses a genuinely invulnerable body. Your Strength Value isn’t high enough to deal sufficient blunt-force damage, so you have no choice but to imbue your weapon with the ability to slice through its skin.
"Although I don’t know where you got this fruit, it only takes a single drop of its juice to lift your Dwarf friend’s curse and grant them wisdom."
"But what about the One-Eyed Deity?" Blaze frowned. He had no intention of using a friend’s life as a bargaining chip, especially not when that friend was Marika.
"As long as that Dwarf can restrain their desire to improve their craft and maintain their skill exactly at the level of a [Master Forger], it will be fine," the chicken said, flashing an awkward smile and turning his head away sheepishly. "The only problem is that refining their craft is a Dwarf’s survival instinct. It’s something they’d do even knowing it will kill them...
"So, I was wondering if your Dwarf friend would be willing to suppress their natural instincts for the sake of your friendship..."