A Game of Wits (2)
Maybe I was just overreacting.
It was entirely possible that, through sheer coincidence, three separate fixed-handle users all happened to need Orichalcum at the exact same time. The reason I counted three was because I had already ruled out Passing Dwarf. He had stated his purpose clearly right from the start.
The dwarf had a point. Everyone had their own practical reasons for wanting it. Princess Chaeng-gu in particular had already applied it to her relay magic, so asking for a few more pieces wasn't out of character.
Maybe it really is just a fluke.
Even if it felt a little suspicious, I planned to trade as long as they offered a reasonable price. If push came to shove, I could always ask the Main Moderator to look into who they were. Once I figured out where they were located, I could piece together the rest.
Since I'm about to start exploring in earnest, I might as well ask for gear related to that.
I sent quick messages to the fixed nicks who had reached out, letting them know I would deliver their ore shortly. Then, taking only Ppareumbo and Ggobongi with me, I set off toward the Orichalcum Cave.
Orichalcum was strewn about like common gravel in there anyway, so mining it took next to no effort.
This should be plenty, right?
Just in case someone asked for more later, I mined an extra heap. If someone came begging for another batch right away, I planned to write a post on the board asking what the hell was going on with Orichalcum.
First in line was Let's Grow Trees—an elf who seemed to practically worship their queen. Just yesterday, Queen Elijah's royal address had set the Gallery on fire. People were howling that Alfenheim was embarking on wars of conquest, that the elves had finally revealed their true colors, and so forth. Given their past track record, virtually everyone except the elves themselves viewed the announcement with deep suspicion.
They aren't going to turn into the British Empire or that mustachioed dictator, are they?
A faint wave of concern washed over me, but business was business. Even if Alfenheim kept acting like a bunch of unhinged imperialists, I still planned to trade with them. International embargoes wouldn't diminish the intrinsic value of the resources I possessed. Back where I used to live, nations would loudly proclaim sanctions and trade bans due to war, only to sneakily exchange goods through back alleys anyway. Since the dawn of history, the country holding the raw resources was the true tyrant. That was an immutable law of reality.
Of course, if a nuisance state upgraded itself into full-blown Nazis, that would be an entirely different story.
Then again, pulling off a mustache-level dictatorship isn't exactly an easy feat, is it?
While my mind wandered, Let's Grow Trees returned.
Now that was genuinely useful for an expedition. It sounded like something straight out of Greek mythology—Ariadne's thread, used to navigate the Labyrinth. With long-distance treks on the horizon, having something like this would make finding my way back a breeze. Maps were practically useless in this forest, where determining a steady heading was nearly impossible and the sun seemed to rise in a different spot every single day.
With that, the exchange with Let's Grow Trees concluded.
I inspected the bundle that arrived through the inventory transfer. On the surface, it looked like a mundane spool of white thread. Its durability, however, was beyond absurd. An ordinary steel knife couldn't even scratch it. Only when I drew the Heavenly Demon's Sword could I cleanly sever a strand, but the moment the blade passed through, the cut ends snapped right back together like living tissue.
Is this stuff made of shape-memory alloy or what?
Regardless, it was a fantastic acquisition. Next was Princess Chaeng-gu.
A self-purifying water canteen—an unexpected windfall. Right now, clean water was easily accessible thanks to the river running near the shelter, but there was no telling what water sources I might encounter once I set off into uncharted territory.
After finalizing the trade with Princess Chaeng-gu, I opened a chat with GonnaBeADuke and posed the exact same question.
GonnaBeADuke explained the mechanism in detail. Once activated and buried in the dirt, the marble established a perimeter. While I would have to test it in person, a perimeter chime sounded like an excellent defense tool.
I should have traded for something like this ages ago.
I hadn't even known such an item existed. It would be just as valuable for perimeter security back at the shelter as it would on the trail. The only caveat was that it couldn't detect tiny critters. It operated not by tracking life signatures, but by sensing ground vibrations. Still, small animals rarely posed a threat, so that was hardly a drawback.
Having traded for all the necessary supplies, only Passing Dwarf remained. For him, I had a specific request in mind.
The deal with the dwarf was settled in seconds. Dealing with someone who kept things simple was always refreshing.
I inspected the ceramic mold that arrived from the dwarf, then immediately stoked the flames of the portable forge. I still had the Mythrecon ingot I had cast earlier, so turning that into a blade wouldn't take long.
Fwooooosh!
“What dost thou intend to forge?” Cain's miniature form asked, tilting his head.
“A dagger. For Ludwig.”
As the makeshift furnace roared to life, both Cain and Ludwig leaned in with keen interest. They had seen me bake bread in the earthen oven plenty of times, but a metalworking forge was new to them. I shovel charcoal inside to spike the heat, placed a heavy crucible into the heart of the embers, dropped the alloy ingot inside, and turned the airflow up. All that remained was to pump the foot bellows until the metal liquefied.
“Hey, mister. Come help me pump this.”
Ludwig didn't answer.
“You've got that Mithril prosthetic now, so it should be even easier for you.”
At my suggestion, Ludwig simply stared at me, his gaze radiating pure disbelief—as if he were looking at the lowest scum on earth for ordering an invalid to work the bellows.
“Your other foot works fine, doesn't it? One good foot is more than enough for this pedal.”
“Such words transcend mere trash,” Cain muttered darkly. “They belong to a discarded wreck of humanity.”
“Or would you like to hop up on the bellows yourself, Cain? Everything is strictly equal around here.”
“O Goddess Aris,” Cain intoned, clasping his tiny armored gauntlets together. “Deliver this incorrigible mortal from his folly.”
“Pray all you want, she won't lift a finger. If she cared, she wouldn't have abandoned me in this hellhole. Actually, wait. Maybe she cared so much that she tossed me here on purpose. In that case, I should probably curse her name twice as hard.”
Hiss, sizzle...
Before long, the ingot melted down into glowing liquid. Carefully lifting the crucible with iron tongs, I poured the molten metal into the mold. A short rest was all it took for the alloy to set. In the meantime, I readied the quenching oil. Just as the dwarf had promised, the oil was top-notch; despite sitting exposed for days, it hadn't degraded in the slightest.
CHSSSSSHHH!
Plunged into the vat, the blade hissed violently in a cloud of thick vapor. When I pulled it free, the Mythrecon dagger was complete. Ludwig watched the entire sequence with open wonder. To an outsider, forging looked like some mystical ritual, but in reality, it was straightforward labor.
I should start crafting proper tools myself soon.
A sturdy pickaxe, for instance, would make excavating the Mithril node at the back of the cave infinitely easier. I hadn't felt an urgent need for one yet, but it was better to prepare early. Checking the straightness of the newly cast blade, I set out to grind the edge.
“Mister. You know how to hone an edge, right?”
“I do,” Ludwig answered gruffly.
In the end, Ludwig handled the sharpening. As a career swordsman and veteran soldier, his whetstone technique far outstripped my clumsy attempts. Under his steady hands, the Mythrecon dagger quickly acquired a razor-sharp bite that rivaled any masterwork blade.
The expedition starts tomorrow, so I need to finish packing.
I reviewed my checklist. Water was handled thanks to Princess Chaeng-gu's canteen, leaving rations as the primary concern. I turned to my stock of Inedia Pills. While I still had a fair supply, it wasn't nearly enough for an extended journey.
Once I'm on the move, these pills will vanish fast.
I sent an inquiry to the Heavenly Demon right away. When it came to high-grade Inedia Pills, she was my sole provider. Fortunately, she replied within minutes.
We traded so many items back and forth that it had slipped my mind entirely. Still, knowing the pills would arrive tonight brought immense relief. If she hadn't been able to fulfill the request, I would have had to push the departure back several days to dry and cure another batch of jerked meat.
With Alfenheim and Queen Elijah occupying center stage, the Blood Cult had slipped to the back of my mind, but they were still an ongoing threat. With enough luck—or rather, sheer misfortune—an infiltration party could stumble right into my territory.
I really hope those bastards don't show up.
They were unhinged fanatics, the worst kind of trouble. There was no telling what delusional garbage was churning in their skulls. Furthermore, ever since Ludwig crossed the grassland, survival data regarding the Forest of the Four Seasons had leaked out to the general public. Building upon that intel, the cultists had likely prepared thoroughly, significantly bolstering their survival rate.
Wiping out the Blood Cult issue in one clean sweep sounded like a dream, but a nagging thought crept into my head. I had let it pass before, but every time she casually tossed out statements like that, I found myself wondering if she truly was the supreme leader of the Demonic Cult. Then again, whether she was a roleplayer or the genuine article hardly mattered. If she really was the Heavenly Demon, all the better.
Given the cult's track record of sheer terrorism, I had zero reservations about accepting her offer.
I had known they were lunatic fanatics, but to think they were actually going through with that ridiculous gorilla coronation plan left me speechless. It was utterly absurd, but it provided more than enough justification to exterminate them. Even if there was only a one-percent chance of them reaching my doorstep, pulling weeds before they took root was always the smarter play.
Speaking with the Heavenly Demon always set my mind at ease. She had extended goodwill toward me right from the beginning, and since she continued to help me out, I wanted to reciprocate whenever possible.
I won't ask how she plans to take care of them.
She would handle it however she saw fit. It was best not to pry. Right now, preparing for tomorrow's exploration took priority. But just as I reached to close the Gallery window—
Chime!
Another direct message chimed through. Wondering who it could be this time, I opened the alert.
It was KingLeor—the user who spent half his life bickering with Princess Chaeng-gu in the comments. It had been quite a while since our last direct conversation, so his sudden message caught me off guard.
What kind of job did this guy even have that involved donating personal Orichalcum?
More importantly, a far more pressing question seized my mind.
Did the market price of Orichalcum really just go to the moon?
I definitely needed to write a post on the Gallery.