Chapter 14: Chapter 14 A new day, a new bow.

After Desmond came out of his daze, he went back to admiring the new bow he got in exchange for his kindness. This one was gorgeous while still masculine; it suited Desmond’s tastes. After a couple more seconds of observation, he used Analysis on his new acquisition.

Overjoyed at the splendid weapon now in his possession, Desmond considered how to apply the recommendation given by the hunter’s book. Then, he remembered that right out of this cave emerged the creature from which he obtained the material that would help him complete his new bow and bring out his full potential.

Opening the small bag of supplies Desmond always carried on his person, he took a bag filled with the spider silk that he got from the arrows he pulled out of the dark predatory spider’s butt. Remembering the metallic properties that this spider silk possessed and the elasticity it showed, they turned out to be ideal for his current situation.

Taking some of the brightest strands, Desmond began to braid a new bowstring, utterly unaware that his instinctive choice would demonstrate unexpectedly pleasing results, vividly portraying the phrase “ignorance is a blessing.”

Upon completing the tedious manual work, Desmond obtained a string slightly thicker than the standard commonly used for bows, being of silver color and glow; it exuded a formidable metallic presence without losing the smooth quality of spider silk.

With the delicacy of touching his mistress, Desmond withdrew the old bowstring and replaced it with the new one, using some of the shiny spider silk to tie the knots and final details at the ends of the bow. Unhappy with the raw look of the knots he made, he added a pair of pinwheel flower bows that he made thinking of when his cute sister asked him to do her hair. Although this last detail seemed very feminine, it seemed to fit in with the graceful nature of the fox design that reigned in the bow.

Once again, one would have to marvel at the power of Desmond’s ignorance or even hate him for how much he despised the goddess of fortune when she was madly in love with this womanizing hunter. Desmond would only notice how important this last ornamental and sentimental detail was that he decided to add on a whim to the bow when the hunter’s book told him so directly.

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Nodding, satisfied at the excellent taste of the bow now in his possession, he couldn’t wait to use the analysis function to see the changes to the bow.

Before the ecstasy he felt at seeing the new level of power of the bow and its unique features, he continued to read the additional notes. An expression of utter stupidity was all he managed to do as he tried to process the information that had just been so kindly exposed by the hunter’s book.

Basically, his complete ignorance concerning the aspects of mana almost makes him ruin his newly acquired bow. And it was just a last artistic whim in conjunction with the sweet memories it brought him, which averted the tragedy and even generated what can only be described as a miracle that strengthened the bow.

Once he finished analyzing this fact, the following words from him filled millions with pride but would provoke the anger of millions more.

“Shit, that was close, to think that the almighty love for the little sisters would save the day; when I come back, I have to reward Claire intensely. ”

The perverted bastard’s expression as he spoke the last words of that statement only further fueled the flames of anger that idea sparked. Desmond could almost hear the whisper of the universe answering him:

“Lucky idiot, leave the little sisters alone.”

Unfortunately for the universe, Desmond couldn’t hear that. . . And even if he did, he wouldn’t give a shit; there’s even a genuine chance that he’ll show off his little sister to those assholes who insulted him.

Putting unnecessary thoughts aside and having rested enough, Desmond watched the sunrise with his new weapon in hand, picking up the rest of his equipment, and with conviction burning in his chest, he proceeded to welcome a new day.

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