Felix Vance woke up at precisely four-thirty in the afternoon.
The mountain breeze had cooled, carrying the scent of damp pine needles and evening ozone across the terrace.
Felix stretched his arms, letting out a satisfied yawn as he climbed out of the cloud-silk hammock.
His two-hour nap had been flawless.
No screaming wyverns.
No rattling teacups.
No obnoxious audio bugs clipping through the skybox.
Down by the boundary fence, Dragon King Ignis-Azureus remained coiled in the muddy perimeter ditch.
The three-mile-long golden dragon had curled his massive body into a neat, respectful spiral, resting his golden snout on his foreclaws.
He breathed with absolute silence, terrified of making a single rumble that might disturb the Master’s sleep.
Whenever his golden tail twitched, he immediately tucked it in, keeping his entire bulk safely outside the freshly mulched clover lawn.
Up on the porch, Felix slipped his feet into his dry straw slippers.
He walked over to the edge of the terrace and looked out over the courtyard.
A fresh evening mist was beginning to drift down from the high peaks, turning into a persistent, misty drizzle.
Felix frowned at the falling droplets.
He wanted to walk over to the luxury roost to check on the Thunder Gryphon’s food trough.
He also wanted to see if the Sun-Lotus Cabbage was ready for its evening fertilizer spread.
Walking through cold rain in a loose hemp tunic, however, was an unpleasant prospect.
Damp sleeves clung to your skin, and wet hems dragged along the grass.
"Rain gear," Felix muttered, rubbing his chin. "I really should have bought an umbrella from the general store in town."
Down by the tool shed, Lord Nether-Bane was currently sweeping the gravel walkway with an iron broom.
Beside the shed, the skeletal corsairs had piled a massive heap of shimmering gold and azure plates.
During his midday rebirth, Ignis-Azureus had shed thousands of heavy scales into the mud.
Nether-Bane had meticulously gathered them into a tidy, five-foot-tall mound to prevent them from choking the drainage ditches.
Felix walked down the porch steps, his slippers clicking against the Abyssal Storm-Slate splash board.
He strolled over to the pile of shed dragon scales, curious about the scrap material.
He tapped the obsidian glass of the AetherDeck, bringing up his Inspector HUD to scan the heap.
【Item: Discarded Solar Wyrm Scales】 【Quantity: 1,420 Plates】 【Grade: Primordial Transcendent Scrap】 【Properties: 100% Hydrophobic, Impervious to All Liquids, Windproof, Self-Warming, Micro-Flexible】 【Durability: Indestructible by Mortal Elements】 【Inspector Note: The molted skin of a newly baptized golden wyrm. These plates repel water with absolute perfection. Blacksmiths of the imperial court would wage bloody wars to forge sovereign armor from a single scale. Alternatively, their lightweight curvature and waterproof properties make them ideal for low-effort DIY foul-weather outerwear.】
Felix poked one of the golden scales with the toe of his slipper.
The scale was roughly the size of a dinner plate, smooth as polished yellow glass, yet slightly flexible when bent along the grain.
Rainwater hit the surface, beaded into perfect spheres, and rolled off without leaving a trace of moisture.
"Completely waterproof," Felix murmured, his eyes lighting up. "And lightweight. This is basically high-grade Gore-Tex."
Felix thumbed through the utility apps on his AetherDeck until he found the basic crafting interface.
Back in his early survival-crafting games, rainy weather always inflicted a persistent stamina debuff unless you equipped basic rain gear.
Fortunately, the system came with standard basic recipes:
Felix selected twelve of the thinnest, most flexible golden scales from the top of the pile.
He pulled a stray strand of leftover cloud-silk thread from his pocket, along with a small carved wooden toggle from the tool shed.
"Confirm craft," Felix said, tapping the obsidian screen.
A soft, golden flash enveloped the materials in his hands.
The twelve dinner-plate-sized dragon scales softened, merging together along seamless, water-tight seams.
The cloud-silk thread wove itself through the borders, creating a wide, comfortable neck opening and a roomy, pointed hood.
The wooden toggle snapped into place at the collar.
Within two seconds, the crafting light faded.
Draped across Felix’s arms was a bright, glossy yellow rain poncho.
It looked almost identical to a classic, loose-fitting plastic slicker from a hardware store.
Yet the material shimmered with faint, golden warmth, completely weightless and entirely frictionless to the touch.
Felix held it up, inspecting the seams.
"Nice," Felix said, nodding with satisfaction. "Good length and roomy shoulders."
"Even has a toggle button."
With an effortless, casual motion, Felix slipped the poncho over his head.
The golden poncho settled around his shoulders, draping down to his knees in clean, loose folds.
He reached up and pulled the pointed yellow hood over his head, adjusting the brim so it kept the drizzle away from his face.
The moment the hood went up, the chill of the evening mist vanished.
The poncho’s passive warmth enveloped him, keeping the interior at a cozy, perfect room temperature.
Felix tucked his hands into the poncho's deep front pockets, taking a couple of experimental steps on the damp grass.
Raindrops fell onto the bright yellow hood:
*Tap... tap... tap.*
Every single droplet hit the golden surface, broke apart, and immediately slid off, cascading harmlessly to the ground.
Zero moisture soaked through.
His hemp tunic remained bone-dry.
"Perfection," Felix said. "Ten out of ten rain gear. Zero wet sleeves."
A few yards away, Dragon King Ignis-Azureus lifted his massive golden head from the mud.
He saw Felix Vance standing in the courtyard.
The dragon king’s golden eyes widened until they nearly popped out of his skull.
His breath caught in his throat.
*The Sovereign...* Ignis-Azureus thought, his entire three-mile frame beginning to tremble violently with boundless religious terror.
*The Sovereign has taken my shed, impure mortal scales!*
*He did not discard them into the compost!*
*He took the remnants of my ancient suffering, entered the Primordial Void Forge of his black tablet, and refined them with celestial cloud-silk!*
*He has donned the Nine-Heaven Sovereign Dragon Vestment!*
*To wear the hide of my rebirth upon his sacred shoulders... this is not mere clothing!*
*This is the Sovereign’s Imperial Coronation!*
*He has accepted my servitude! He has crowned me as the personal vanguard of the High Sun!*
Tears of euphoric pride welled up in the dragon king’s eyes once more, splashing into the ditch mud like molten gold.
*I am not a stray beast in the ditch,* the dragon wept in silent ecstasy. *I am the skin upon the Emperor’s back!*
Up on the porch, Lyra Ashford stepped outside, carrying a fresh cedar tray.
The moment her gaze fell upon Felix standing in the drizzle, she dropped her tray.
The wooden tray hit the porch floorboards with a dull clatter.
Lyra’s breath seized.
She fell directly to her knees, clutching the porch railing with trembling, white-knuckled hands.
*The Sacred Golden Dragon Robe of the Nine Heavens...* Lyra’s soul screamed in silent, overwhelming reverence.
*The ancient texts of the Grand Cloud Archive spoke of a Sovereign who would unite the beasts of the Upper Heavens.*
*They wrote that when the True Sun Emperor walked upon the earth, he would be draped in the living mantle of the Golden Dragon King!*
*Look at how the heaven-sundering scales fold around his shoulders!*
*Look at the pointed cowl of Primordial Light guarding his celestial brow!*
*The divine storm scales that once deflected imperial war formations now serve as a humble mantle to shield Senior Brother from the drizzle!*
*He did not construct a golden fortress.*
*He did not raise a thousand-foot barrier to mock the rain.*
*He wears the sovereignty of the Upper Strata as a simple rain poncho!*
Lyra pressed her forehead against the cool cedar floorboards, tears of profound enlightenment streaming down her cheeks.
"Senior Brother’s Dao is without limit," Lyra whispered, her voice shaking with holy reverence. "The heavens weep their rains, and the dragons themselves clothe him in glory."
Near the tool shed, Lord Nether-Bane leaned on his rake, nodding his skull with deep satisfaction.
"A very practical garment," Nether-Bane remarked to the corsairs. "Yellow is high-visibility. It ensures the Master will not be struck by incoming wheelbarrows during evening yard work."
"Aye, Lord Captain," the corsairs agreed solemnly. "A sensible choice for farm labor."
Unaware of the cosmic revelations shattering the minds of everyone around him, Felix strolled across the lawn.
He walked past the five-star Sun-Lotus Cabbage, admiring how the cabbage's golden leaves glowed warmly in the dusk light.
He walked up to the luxury roost.
Inside, the Thunder Gryphon was still snoozing peacefully on its deep bed of straw.
Felix pulled a handful of dried sun-berries from his pocket and dropped them into the wooden feed trough.
The gryphon opened one sleepy eye, let out an affectionate, purring chirp, and pecked at the berries.
A tiny, harmless ring of violet ozone drifted from its beak, floating upward and dissolving against Felix’s yellow hood.
The ozone bounced right off the waterproof scales, leaving zero scorch marks.
"Good bird," Felix said, patting the gryphon’s feathery shoulder. "Enjoy dinner."
Felix turned around and walked back to the porch.
He climbed the cedar steps, stopping on the Abyssal Storm-Slate splash board to kick the loose mud off his slippers.
He unfastened the wooden toggle at his collar and pulled the yellow poncho off over his head.
He gave the poncho a single, sharp shake:
*Fwump.*
Every single droplet of water flew off the glossy yellow scales, leaving the garment entirely, completely dry.
Felix hung the poncho on a polished brass peg right next to Barnaby’s perch.
On his perch, Barnaby the clockwork owl remained blissfully quiet.
The black rubber stopper stayed firmly wedged in his beak, holding the copper tip locked tight, while his chronal anchor gear ticked with steady precision: *tick... tick... tick.*
Felix walked over to the cedar table.
Grandmaster Vivienne’s purple Sovereign Heart Seal held the table rock-solid against the floorboards.
Beside his gacha notes, the white porcelain Infinite Cozy Teacup rested safely beneath the Soul-Pearl paperweight.
Felix reached out and picked up the cup.
He raised it to his lips and took a slow, comforting sip.
*Slurp.*
The Nine-Sun tea was still hot, still fragrant, and locked precisely at 68.5°C.
Felix pulled his obsidian AetherDeck from his inner pocket, tapping the screen to review his evening summary.
Felix leaned back in his wicker chair, resting his feet on the porch railing.
Outside in the ditch, Dragon King Ignis-Azureus lay coiled in peaceful, silent adoration, guarding the Spire against the boundless void.
Above the roof, the soft mountain rain tapped gently against the cedar tiles, but zero water disturbed the porch.
Felix took another slow sip of the warm, nutty tea.
"No wet sleeves," Felix murmured, closing his eyes with a faint, peaceful smile. "Tea at sixty-eight degrees. Zero noise complaints."
"Now that," Felix whispered to the fading twilight, "is what I call optimal idle gameplay."