I'll Surpass The MC - Chapter 759

Chapter 759: Scars of Crisis



Wepetay approached the wardrobe that Inala had pointed at and opened it, gawking at the intricately designed suitcase before him. The suitcase was the transportable form for all Suits that Inala had created. Once supplied with Prana, it would envelop the user and appear as a dress, structurally compatible and functionally accentuating.

Wepetay had a Suit made using Telghat wool, his most priced possession. As a token of gratitude for having taken care of him all along, Inala had presented Wepetay such a suit. The suit was something Wepetay wore to the battlefield.

It had protected him on numerous occasions, allowing him to come out less injured than without it. Moreover, every time it was damaged, Inala repaired it. And having worn a Telghat Suit on numerous occasions, Wepetay could conclude with a glance as he touched the suitcase before him, 'It's different!'

'The quality is on a whole other level.' He expressed his shock and solemnly kneeled as he presented the suitcase to MunuBuntara, "My Lord, it's my honour to present you the greatest Suit ever made."

"I see..." MunuBuntara's eyes widened faintly before curling up in satisfaction as he stared at Inala, "So you've completed it, Sir Binala."

"It made me question life dozens of times when I worked on it." Inala yawned in exhaustion, "It would have been easy had I been at the 3-Life Stage or above, but for the current me, it was too stressful."

"I thank you for your service." MunuBuntara nodded in gratitude, "I'll be sure to let his Majesty acknowledge your skill."

"You better," Inala said without mincing his words, "That's the only reason I've broken my back to work on this. Before I die, I want the greatest existence on Sumatra to praise my weaving skill!"

"You will," MunuBuntara nodded and exited the house, saying to Wepetay once they were out of earshot, "He can at most live for three months."

Saying so, he let out a sigh, "It's unfortunate. We don't have anyone skilled enough to be his successor."

MunuBuntara stared at the suitcase he held, feeling the sheer presence emanating from it, "He has seamlessly weaved my hair into the Telghat wool to create this suit that even I can wear into battle."

A regular Telghat Suit was a powerful piece of defensive equipment for someone like Wepetay. However, MunuBuntara was a Wean Clansman, capable of turning into an Empyrean Boar, a Gold Grade existence.Rêađ latest cha/p/ters on no/v/e/l(b)in(.)c/o/m

The defensive strength offered by the Telghat Suit paled in comparison to his natural defences. Moreover, it might only restrict him. It was why MunuBuntara only used the Suits to attend banquets.

But the one in his possession was different. It was something he could use to fight while in human form, very valuable indeed. Moreover, Inala had created this while at the Body Stage, barely having enough Vara in his Human Avatar to store two Iron Grade Natures.

'If only he could enter the Life Stage and have a longer lifespan, he would have been able to improve his skills even better.' MunuBuntara shook his head and said in seriousness, "Who's the second most skilled weaver in our District?"

"Bring him or her to my office."

"Yes, My Lord." Wepetay nodded respectfully.

At the same time, back at Inala's house, the person in question was lying flat on his bed, sweat dripping down his forehead. He truly wasn't acting. His body was indeed at its limit, 'Even though the Spirit Container Lock has been used on me, repeatedly shattering and rebuilding my false Spirit Container has still placed enormous stress on my heart.'

That was why at the age of seventy, he was on the verge of death. His thoughts were calm as he stared at the empty room. His time at the Varahan Empire were fruitful. Whatever he had set out to achieve here had already been done. And now, all he had to do was wait until every single problem combined to become a unified whole that destroyed the Varahan Empire from within.

varying levels of success, often small than big. And these success stories were a mere hundredth of everyone Inala tried his luck with.

MunuBuntara tried everything in his power to expand the influence of his District through

tourism, which indeed worked, not to the extent he wanted, but to a decent level. It allowed Inala to comes across a lot of interesting individuals, with all of whom he attempted.

'I've done everything I could.' Inala closed his eyes and let out a wheezed breath. Prana steadily flowed out of his being and entered a piece of cloth strewn about in a nearby room. It was in the shape of a cylinder, created using Balghat wool.

Once his Prana entered it, the cylinder was activated, revealing two corked strings that unfurled themselves at terrifying speeds. The tension spun the two strings that increased in length as they rotated, slowly lifting the rest of the cylinder once they had expanded to a

suitable length.

Pat! Pa-tat! Patapat!

Crisp footsteps resounded in the room as a young man walked out from the nearby room and approached Inala, staring down at him in silence. No words were exchanged. Rather, they

weren't necessary. The individual was just another him after all.

Expert Silver Grade Pranic Beast-Royal Zinger!

"I feared you might implode..." The old Inala said as he stared at his young self, one

brimming with vitality, his appearance in his prime, "Man...I did look hella handsome when I

was young."

"The Spirit Container Lock will shatter and leak your real Prana once you die. So..." The Royal

Zinger tapped the old Inala's chest once as a spark flickered inside and extracted the Spirit Container, "So, I'll be taking this with me."

"You've taken everything from me...right?" The old Inala asked, "Everything I experienced... especially the sense of weakness and helplessness I endured daily..."

The old Inala stopped speaking, letting out a smile upon seeing the arrogance in the Royal Zinger dissipate, replaced by a pair of eyes resembling his. "Thank goodness..."

"You're ready now, my younger self." The old Inala said and closed his eyes, shedding a tear,

"I leave everything to you now."

"Butcher the pig that dared kill our brother."