I'll Surpass The MC C.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.

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.

Prumace was just one of the many individuals who had been inspired with ingenious ideas thanks to Inala. Every single day, Inala entered the market of the Noikatol District and used the skill of Universal Slip combined with the skill of Dual Speech to impart information in their minds.

This information appeared in their dreams, inspiring the people who were able to recall bits and pieces of content. This inspiration didn't happen overnight but was the summation of bits and pieces accumulated for an extended period, spanning more than a decade.

Prumace happened to be one of the visitors of the Noikatol District long ago, before he became a large merchant. He intended to visit the Noikatol Kingdom for a holiday vacation with his family, for which he had arrived at the Noikatol District to obtain permission.

Only with MunuBuntara's administrative office permission could any citizen not part of the Noikatol District visit the Noikatol Kingdom. The tourism fees were given to the Noikatol District.

The process was the same to every single Kingdom controlled by the respective District in the Varahan Empire. Prumace stayed in the Noikatol District for only two days, following which he gained the permit to enter the Noikatol Kingdom with his family.

During his daily outings, Inala noticed Prumace, observing that the latter was an observant individual, sporting the characteristics of a merchant. With the sheer volume of data in his possession, Inala could relate with it and come to an immediately conclusion.

Feeling that Prumace could take advantage of it, Inala casually accompanied the latter's group in their trip to the Noikatol Kingdom. They never even interacted, as Inala was just one of the many passengers making the journey.

But throughout Prumace's time at the Noikatol Kingdom, he was constantly targeted by Inala's Skill of Universal Slip and Dual Speech. Prumace had countless dreams during the trip, but he never acted upon them.

He had a comfortable job that paid a lot, enough for him to take a luxurious trip every year. So, even after he returned from the trip to the Noikatol Kingdom, nothing changed. In his mind were a few interesting ideas, but he didn't seem to care.

Inala had judged this initiative a failure, which wasn't the first time it happened. Just because someone had an interesting idea didn't mean they would act on them. They needed the motive and desire to harness the idea into something tangible.

This motive appeared two years later, when Prumace and his family had to experience a Minor Crisis in the Kingdom they had visited for vacation that year. Though they survived the Minor Crisis, Prumace's two children were traumatised, which had paralysed their legs.

Unlike other Free Humans who simply got back to their feet as long as they were alive, happy to have survived, Prumace's kids were born in the Varahan Empire, in a region of safety and abundance. They had never had to stare death in the face and hence, the first time they did traumatised them.

A Pranic Beast had chopped off their legs. This wasn't a cause for concern as even though they were at the Spirit Stage, they had a decent amount of Prana, which meant their legs would regrow eventually.

Moreover, Prumace had enough savings to purchase Elixirs to speed up the process, which he did. However, even after the legs healed, his children could never walk, for in their minds, their legs had been eaten by a Pranic Beast.

The trauma paralysed them, which served as a strong motivation for him. He created the Gramophone and used all his connections to find the individual most talented in the field of music to record a piece, which was labelled 'Scars of Crisis!'

This piece of music was what allowed his children to face their fears and embrace the courage necessary to begin walking once again. It took time, spanning months. But the music resonated with their feelings, as Prumace commissioned the artist to compose one talking about his family's experiences.

As his children recovered and could assume daily life once again, the story resonated with a

lot of people who wanted to listen to Scars of Crisis too. At that time, Prumace wasn't even thinking of monetising it, since his objective was his children being able to walk once again.

But once things had settled, and Prumace spent some time thinking, he decided to set up the Prumace Merchant Company. His story garnered a lot of attention, resulting in a strong opening sale. The Gramophone became a hit and the rest was history.

Prumace was one of the biggest examples. There were hundreds of other examples with

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.

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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

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"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."