Bestowal

Lock the doors, close the shop.

It was time for one-on-one service.

One female assistant trotted over, quickly drawing all the curtains to block any prying eyes from outside.

The other female assistant pulled down a lever on the wall. With a soft whoosh, more than a dozen gas burners disguised as wall decorations flared up at once. Steady flames hissed from the nozzles, casting a bright orange light through crystal glass lampshades that instantly illuminated the room that had just turned dim.

Clack, clack.

The clatter of colliding gears echoed beneath their feet, followed by a continuous hum and subtle vibration. Aside from the area around the sofa, the room’s floor began to lower, sinking into the ground along with the furniture. When it rose again, everything on the floor had completely changed.

Four display racks stretched along the four walls, hung with garment components of various sizes. Beneath the racks stood dozens of wooden mannequins, differing in height, build, and proportions.

Several workbenches of unknown purpose sat in the open space, their surfaces neatly arranged with countless tools Lynch could not name.

Master Christian crossed his arms, lightly tapping his forefinger against his lips as he paced slowly around the workbenches. Suddenly, his eyes lit up, and he spoke in a brisk, fluid cadence: “Mannequin number 7. Component numbers 8, 17, and 5.”

The two assistants, who had been slacking off earlier, now moved with swift efficiency. One pushed over a mannequin from beside the display rack and quickly detached several limbs, while the other unhooked the specified components and deftly assembled them onto mannequin number 7.

Its build and physique were almost identical to Lynch’s.

“Garment components: number 39, number 23, number 8...”

Leaning gracefully against the table, Master Christian reeled off number after number. The two female assistants darted around the room like butterflies among flowers, scampering up and down ladders to retrieve various garment pieces and fit them onto the mannequin one by one.

After multiple adjustments and swaps by the assistants, a sharp formal suit gradually took shape before Lynch’s eyes.

A white cotton shirt, dark blue woolen trousers, a heavy black cloth trench coat, a dark blue silk top hat, and a pair of black leather shoes polished to a mirror shine sitting by its feet.

Lynch felt a thrum of excitement just looking at it—it truly was worthy of a master’s work.

“Very good. Now, step two.”

At Master Christian’s order, the two assistants stepped forward immediately. They removed the components and arranged them on the sewing table, threading needles to loosely tack the pieces together, barely forming a few garments. At the corner of each garment hung a piece of special white cloth, standing out conspicuously against the fabric.

“Imbuing is not performed on a physical garment itself, but on the concept of 'this garment.' So long as that concept holds, even if bestowed upon a piece of white cloth meant to be removed later, the property will remain continuously effective. By the same token, whether your new clothing gets dirty, damaged, or requires component replacements as you grow, as long as the concept of 'this garment' remains unchanged, the imbued properties will never fade.”

The Ship of Theseus? Lynch instantly recalled the famous philosophical thought experiment.

Clap, clap, clap.

As soon as he finished speaking, the master clapped his hands. The two assistants pushed two workbenches, sliding their tabletops sideways to reveal the hidden space beneath.

There were threads in over a hundred colors, dozens of needle types, and numerous small compartments filled with strange materials of unknown purpose.

“First is the jacket. The jacket is your outermost layer of defense. I shall bestow upon it the property of Haze, making it easier for you to evade the threat of bullets and arrows.”

With a crisp swish, one assistant spread the jacket flat on an intact sewing table, centering and securing the extra piece of white cloth.

“Haze is the color of the dark night, representing the favor of the Lady of the Black Night. Bring me needle number 24—the tool treated with midnight flowers—paired with black thread, to use black as a symbol of the Lord of the Black Night's tenderness.”

The other assistant promptly handed over a threaded needle. Master Christian unhurriedly took it, pulled on a pair of gloves, and picked a few black petals from one of the compartments, gently rubbing them along the black thread.

“Polarizing grass deflects light, ethereal and uncertain—fitting the true meaning of Haze. Guided by midnight flowers, mediated by black thread, we shall imbue the concept of Haze into the shirt. Now...”

With that, the master pinched the needle with delicate fingers and lashed his right hand out like lightning, crisscrossing the white cloth. His speed was so blinding that Lynch couldn't track his movements at all; he could only hear the whistling gusts inside the room as powerful rushes of wind beat against his face.

“Now, shaped in the pattern of polarizing grass, the concept of Haze fuses into the garment, transforming into the embrace of the Lady of the Black Night.”

His hands never stopped moving as a small black flower gradually took shape in the center of the white cloth. The pattern of the flower was exceedingly complex—staring at it for too long induced dizziness and sent chills down one's spine.

With a sudden thud, the fierce winds dissipated. Master Christian tossed the sewing needle aside; its tip pierced through the embroidered pattern on the white cloth and plunged deep into the wooden surface of the sewing table with a heavy sound.

“Next! Second is the top hat. The top hat protects your most critical area. I bestow upon it the property of Absorption, acting like a helmet to absorb blunt forces aimed at your head.”

“Absorption is the gift of the earth, representing the mercy of Gaia, the Lord of the Earth. Switch to stone needle number 78. Guided by stone-heart milk, paired with yellowish-brown thread, and drawing upon the power of the earth as a medium, we shall bestow the absorption property of stability crystals upon the top hat.”

As he spoke, Christian pulled out a small compass and shifted his steps, slightly adjusting his orientation. Only after coming to a halt did he accept the second needle.

Another flurry of whistling wind followed, and soon, an even more intricate crystal pattern was embroidered onto the top hat's white cloth. As the final stitch was completed, a heavy, grounding force surged forth.

“Again! Third is the shirt. The shirt is your final defense. I bestow upon it the property of Tenacity, its dense material making it nearly impossible for blades targeting your body to penetrate.”

“Tenacity is the virtue of plants, representing the care of Franda, the Lord of Plants. Switch to wooden needle number 24. Guided by the sap of dragon blood wood, paired with emerald-green thread, and drawing upon the power of plants as a medium, we shall bestow the dense, tenacious property of climbing vines upon the garment.”

Stepping lightly, Christian held up the compass and rotated his position once more. The third needle pierced through the air like lightning, bringing a delicate vine to life on the fabric. A vibrant vitality instantly suffused the garment, making the embroidered vine on the white cloth appear as if it were alive.

“Finally, the trench coat. The fluttering coat will serve as wings at your back. I bestow upon it the property of Slow Fall. These floating wings will allow you to ignore a fall of ten meters, letting you leap down and land gently.”

“Slow Fall is the blessing of the dust and wind, representing the protection of Selo, the Lord of Dust and Wind. Switch to needle number 62 made from a sand falcon’s tail feather. Guided by dandelion seed oil, paired with transparent thread, and drawing upon the power of dust and wind as a medium, we shall bestow the floating slow-fall property of void jellyfish upon the trench coat.”

As Master Christian called out continuous instructions, the garments on the sewing table were swapped again and again. Lifelike yet strange patterns appeared one after another on the white cloths attached to the clothes, before being pinned to the table by needles of various materials.

“You, over here. Quickly.”

Tossing aside the fourth needle, Christian beckoned to Lynch with a curved finger. Lynch approached with a grimace, but the moment he got close, Master Christian grabbed his wrist. Snatching up a sewing needle, he jabbed it into Lynch’s index finger, causing blood to spurt out immediately.

“Smear it over the ends of those four needles! Quickly!”

Lynch dared not hesitate, rapidly smearing his blood onto them. Nothing happened at first, but the moment he finished coating the fourth feather needle, a flash of bloody light burst forth from the four garments on the sewing table, sweeping across the entire room in an instant.