As he delicately moved the final thread into its new position within the fresh sheath, he cast an appreciative gaze upon the intricately interwoven threads, acknowledging the fruits of his labor, all the while ensuring every element fell into place for the forthcoming phase.

After confirming each detail, he drew a deep breath, mustering the courage to conquer his fears. "Now or never," he resolved, embarking on the task at hand. With practiced precision, he deftly manipulated a cluster of entangled threads within the metal finger, emulating the fluid motions he had witnessed humans perform countless times before... Yet, to his chagrin, nothing stirred.

This setback was no stranger to him; he persisted, he had tried it before. All he could do now was repeat the process, clinging to the hope of success.

...

He attempted and tried repeatedly, but this time, success eluded him. He was not naïve; in his previous endeavors, he had perceived some progress, but now, there seemed to be no improvement at all. Those threads lacked the power to manipulate the armor. He pondered how a group of nerves or threads could function like muscles to move the body. Had all his efforts been in vain? _No, he couldn't even entertain that thought_

Nevertheless, he sensed advancements in his previous attempts, drawing closer to achieving the ability to move. It wasn't as though these were genuine nerves, nor did he need to abide by human biology to pinpoint the flaw's location. So, where had he gone wrong?

He remained clueless, thus believing that sticking to the previous steps might be the way forward. Perhaps spying on humans could provide a clue or shed light on his mistake.

This time, he tried to be more cautious, carefully observing any differences, but he didn't notice anything significant among the initial individuals. However, after a certain period, three new individuals entered, and one of them had slightly deeper threads' color.

It might not have been something he would focus on, especially when he paid more attention to the threads' movements than anything else. Yet, this discovery sparked hope—even if it was false hope—and a problem at the same time.

Hope in escaping his static nature and a problem in figuring out how to achieve that. So, he returned to what he called "Panorama Vision" and searched for a way to change the color.

The starting point was tougher than manipulating the threads because he didn't know where to begin. He tried contemplating darker threads, just as he did with moving them, but no matter what he did, he couldn't succeed.

If it wasn't the threads themselves that made them darker, what could it be? His attention turned to the only connected element—the green essence. It was time for new experiments.

.

.

.

.

.

The sound of gentle taps on the door of Lord Gawain's study echoed through the room—a familiar signal heralding the arrival of the butler.

Lord Gawain lifted his head from the scattered paperwork on his desk and graciously granted entry, saying, "Please, come in."

As the door opened, Cliver, the trusted butler, stepped inside with his customary light and measured strides. However, even in his usual poise, the Lord detected a subtle sense of urgency and nervousness in Cliver's demeanor.

"What's the matter, Cliver?" Lord Gawain inquired with a faint furrow in his brow.

With a respectful nod, Cliver tried his best to conceal any signs of tension in his voice as he spoke.

"Sir, I have received reliable intelligence indicating that the Emirates have amassed their forces and are poised for imminent action. Though the exact size of their troops and units remains unclear, we are certain they are advancing swiftly. Within approximately two weeks, or at most two and a half weeks, they will reach full strength and be ready to strike at our borders."

The room fell into a heavy silence as Lord Gawain leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes. The only sound was the rhythmic tapping of his fingers on the armrest, a clear sign of deep contemplation. Cliver hesitated to break the silence, well aware that this gesture heralded an important decision.

Amidst the conflicting thoughts swirling in his mind, Lord Gawain grappled with organizing all the information.

His weary army needed about four days to withdraw from the mountain dwellers' conflict, while still leaving enough forces to guard their territory. They would then require more time to rest and prepare for another significant battle. Moreover, he had to ensure the nobles' support without causing further divisions or hostility among them.

"Cliver, did Lord Aurelius receive the message?" Lord Gawain asked.

"Yes, my Lord, and he responded positively," Cliver replied

Lord Gawain mentally sighed at the news. He had another assurance to resolve the conflict and secure compensations, but he needed to be cautious about opposing possibilities. After organizing his thoughts, he opened his eyes.

"Cliver, convey this to the commander of the southern units. Recall as many soldiers as possible to return here swiftly while maintaining enough troops to defend the borders against the mountain dwellers. Gather sufficient common men and equip them for war. Send the best scouts to swiftly investigate the enemy's army and any undisclosed threats. Personally, re-dispatch Haitham to investigate Lord Theodore's palace, ensuring no loose ends or actions that could endanger us. As for the nobles... I'll speak with them myself."

Cliver obliged with another bow and hastened to carry out his instructions. Meanwhile, Lord Gawain rose from his chair and approached a window overlooking a portion of his vast lands. As he gazed out, he took a prolonged moment to contemplate the picturesque landscape, filled with bustling farmers and commoners, all oblivious to the impending perils.

In the recesses of his mind, he pondered the necessity of preparing for a possible evacuation if the consequences of the impending battle reached these tranquil lands. With a wistful sigh, he softly uttered, "If only it were possible..."

.

.

.

.

.After numerous attempts, he truly began to feel bored and frustrated with all these efforts. It seemed that even his newfound explorer's patience had its limits.

But at least he succeeded partially. When he cautiously started tampering with the gem, he executed several ideas and eventually managed to infuse a slow, green hue into the outer shell. The threads danced delicately, causing the color to darken slightly, resembling the individuals he had seen.

With one eye closed and the other fixed sideways on the armor, a scene of hesitation and anticipation unfolded as he manipulated the threads inside the armor, or at least the part of the finger within it. Time passed amidst tense silence, reflecting the unease in his ethereal soul. The iron finger oscillated like the tremor of a lifeless entity... and then it stopped!

With just a small movement, a minor oscillation in the grand scheme of things, seemingly insignificant and not affecting anything, he felt an overwhelming sense of joy. It was as if a lost person in the desert had stumbled upon an oasis. No, it was even greater – the elation of someone miraculously escaping death!

If he had a physical body, he would have burst out screaming, flailing his fist randomly in every direction, jumping like a madman,

So, after a non-physical celebration, he attempted it again, like a child receiving the best new toy from his stern father.

Despite realizing that he could only produce small oscillations and nothing more, unlike previous failures, he didn't feel perplexed or confused about what the next step should be. If the amount of essence didn't succeed in making him move, all he had to do was add more and hope for success.... He yawned, feeling lethargic from his actions, which compelled him to fall asleep.

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As our main character's powers and aspirations in this new world grow, a fierce war draws near. Will he become a part of it or find a way to steer clear, possibly remaining a dormant armor in a distant storage, away from human conflicts? The answers lie ahead.