Daz took a quick moment to identify his shovel one last time as the group left the store. He had successfully fused all of the shovels here into it, and it had changed appearance and gotten stronger.
It was now slightly longer and had the appearance of a root slayer shovel. It would seem that his skill, The One Shovel To Rule Them All, changed the essence of his shovel, allowing it to grow more than just base stats, but abilities too.
'Hmm, even though the blade is now serrated down two edges, it's still not that efficient for killing in comparison to real weapons... maybe I should find a library and research tool making and slowly improve my ability to craft to make it better? Hmm...' Daz thought as he looked at the blue screen that was flashing ahead of him.
|Hamson [C-Rank (Higher Tier)]|
|A regular shovel given life by its owner, Daz, upon being fused with a wrathful spirit intended to be consumed by its Master. It has been selected by the host, Daz's sentient skill, The One Shovel To Rule Them All, and can now only be wielded by him. If touched by any other sentient being, they will be consumed by it if they try to use it offensively without his permission. It has, through being fused with many types of shovels, gained the ability to morph.|
|The One Shovel To Rule Them All|
|The ability to transform into several preset different shapes. This item can change into either a Digging Shovel or a Root Slayer Shovel.|
"Well, Hamson, here's to the future," Daz said to his newly named shovel with a smile.
Heather looked at him with worry in her eyes and she quickly approached Lyle. "Hey," she whispered to him low enough for only Lyle to hear.
"Hmm? Can I help you, Miss Maywood?" Lyle replied in low, yet professional manner. 'Why on Earth is she whispering to me? Surely she can't be trying to hide anything from my Lord...' he thought.
Heather looked back at Daz and his red-bladed shovel before she looked back at Lyle and said, "Does he always name things like that? I mean, he's amazingly strong and it's great that he's willing to help us, but, I mean, calling his shovel 'Hamson'? Really?" Heather asked with some concern in her voice.
'Now that I take a minute to think about it, is this guy okay mentally? He killed so many monsters that looked like humans without so much as batting an eye, not to mention, he nearly killed me... maybe he's insane?' Heather wondered about Daz.
"His naming sense is certainly... unique, but surely 'Hamson' is better than, say, 'The Divine Shovel of Monster Slaying', yes?" Lyle said with a smile. 'Of course she wouldn't be plotting against the Lord. To think it was something as trivial as wondering about his naming sense... and here I thought I might have had to kill her, hahaha,' Lyle morbidly thought.
"I guess you're right... it's just so weird to see him act so happy in this messed-up world," Heather replied with a worn out-looking smile.
"Certainly, but that energy of his, to me, is a sign. It's a sign of hope, hope for the future. Mankind needs a leader. I'd imagine there are plenty of military bases out there that are taking in survivors, but they won't cut it. I can tell," Lyle said seriously, drawing the attention of a few of the other people near him and Heather.
"This world, the attacks, it's all going to get harder. Much harder. We don't need bigger guns and more people, no, what we need, is change. Those capable of adapting, and I've seen no one better than Lord Daz at this in my entire life. So to me, his happiness is a good thing," Lyle said with his usual zeal regarding Daz. He noticed that Heather, and the other survivors, seemed a bit unsure about his words, but at the same time, they could somewhat see the logic behind them.
To divert the topic, he asked a question. "So, Miss Maywood, you did make sure to get everyone their original weapon, yes? No matter how ridiculous it was," Lyle asked her.
"Yeah... even the children. I'm still not sure that letting a nine-year-old be responsible for a sharp knife was a good idea. Are you sure we shouldn't look after it for him?" Heather replied as she held her fishing rod firmly in her hand.
"As per Lord Daz's orders, I would have made his parents look after his weapon, but as you told us, they died on the first night of the attack protecting him, truly, I wonder if he's fortunate or unfortunate... regardless, Daz wants him to hold his own weapon, so let's trust the Lord's judgement on this, okay? There are more than enough of us here to supervise him if something happens," Lyle said with compassion in his voice. Were one to guess, they would say that Lyle actually cared about the boy's well-being.
"I'm still not happy about that. What am I supposed to do with this fishing rod? A club would be a better weapon than this wooden pole," Heather said with some slight dissatisfaction to her tone.
"Trust me," a new voice said. Heather looked in its direction and saw that it came from Daz. "If the system thought it was a weapon, then I'm willing to bet that there's stuff you can buy from the shop that will help make you strong with it. Not all weapons are attack-based, so spend some time thinking about what path you want to take in the future, okay?" Daz said in a knowing way, not only to her but loud enough for everyone to hear.
Just before Heather could reply, Daz raised his hand to stop everyone's movements and an expression that wasn't exactly pleased took hold on his face. "Uninvited visitors?" he mumbled as he looked ahead of him at the twenty or so survivors angrily shouting right in front of the gate to his base.
"Lyle, keep everyone here and go hide in a building or something. They haven't noticed us yet. I'm going to go see what's happening, by the way, everyone, welcome home. That over there," Daz said as he pointed to the base's wall, "is my base. We'll enter it in a minute and get you all fed and properly clothed, so sit tight while I go see what those people want, okay?" Daz asked with his charisma in full swing. He got several nods and 'yeses' in response, so he left the forty-six survivors to Lyle and approached the people in front of his base's portcullis.
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