Hector rubbed his hands together, making fresh iron gloves for himself and then connecting them both to the handle of an oversized pickaxe. Wielding it like a sword, he pressed his soul into it for extra oomph, and then slammed it against the wall with all his might.
A huge chunk of stone broke away from the wall and shattered into a hundred pieces. And so did the tool. And so did both of his arms.
‘Hmm. I’m not an expert, but I don’t think you’re doing it right.’
Hector watched his elbows snap back into place and his torn flesh close itself up again. “Might’ve used a little too much force there...”
‘Might’ve. Or maybe next time, you can try to swing it so hard that you break your LEGS. Wouldn’t that be cool?’
He rotated his arms, stretching and flexing. He annihilated the remains of the pickaxe and created it again from scratch. He set to work again, this time with a finer touch.
‘Now might be a good time to bring up the topic of passive soul defenses.’
Hector didn’t stop swinging. “Passive what now?”
‘As your soul power grows, you’ll be able to naturally increase the resilience of your own body. So things like just now, they won’t happen anymore--or at least, they won’t happen quite so easily.’
“Oh. So a stronger soul makes my body tougher?”
‘Yeah. In two separate respects. First, there’s “resilience,” which is basically the same as how you strengthen your metal. You just apply it to your body instead, and as you get stronger, it begins to happen on its own, constantly applying that extra strength to your body--albeit not as powerfully as when you apply it yourself.’
‘Passive resilience becomes a really big deal, eventually. Powerful enough servants can even deflect bullets with their bare skin.’
He stopped picking to throw a look at Garovel. “A-are you serious?”
‘Oh yes. Not that bullets would even give them a hard time in the first place, but you get the idea, right?’