Chapter 292
Chapter 292
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: The Demon Sword's Scabbard (3)
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Listen kid
Items aren't just about stats lol
For real?
No way, it got some hidden stats or what?
Fr, gotta look good to be real luxury
You ever see Chanel, Louis Vuitton, Hermes boosting stats?
All straight trash stats lol
All-in on looks
Lol then you look-maxxers
Must have your chars decked in optionless lookslave trash right?
Dyeing panties and beard cuz no gear to dye?
How noob can you be?
So all you gearless shitstains been advising him til now?
Ffs can't take it
Let's PVP those bastards and school em proper?
That?
Looks-only trash sword gift
Dwarves straight-up saying "this sword suits you perfectly" lol
Those dwarves
Granite Steel Blacksmith Guild crew
Continent-tier blacksmiths so they charge out the ass
Normally to unlock Granite Steel guild
Grind rep, get 'em to acknowledge you, ton of annoying bullshit
But Ashen Company rep skips straight to unlocking
But!!!!!!!!!!
Force-unlock em and they act polite on surface
Treat you like shit behind closed doors
Sloppy repairs
Sloppy appraisals
Gear? Just flashy trash only lol
Basically that zone's blacksmith NPCs are borked
Aha
Gotta reject Ashen Company intro to Granite guild lol
Thx for the tip
Ffs
Then what about us who spoiled hard?
Coming at us like this huh?
Ok noted
Dogan and Mulin, master artisans of the Granite Steel Blacksmith Guild.
With their recent grueling project finally wrapping up, they were celebrating with a modest but lively drinking session.
The two dwarves had thought today was the best day in recent memory.
That is, until the Ashen Company showed up.
The Company had invited the two dwarves very politely.
But polite words aside—
The two dwarves couldn't help but find the Ashen Company's attitude rude.
In this city, there were only a handful of people who could tell the Ashen Company to "get lost" when they said "come without a fuss~."
In short.
From the moment the Ashen Company appeared, the dwarf artisans were in a position where they had to obey if ordered.
This was more than enough to bruise the pride of these haughty dwarf masters.
After all, countless people flocked from all corners of the continent just to meet them, waiting over a month.
And yet.
To barge in late at night and drag them off half-forcibly!?
An outrageous abuse of authority.
There was no respect for artisans in it whatsoever.
"—Geez. Looks like they see us as handy hammers to use and toss. Snatching us up out of nowhere cuz they need us."
"What can ya do? Gotta live up to expectations."
"Yeah... Let's give 'em exactly what they deserve from us."
And so the dwarf artisans vowed.
That they would act in a manner befitting the "respect" shown to them.
As incompetent, irresponsible, and piss-poor excuses for craftsmen!
"Hype it up so much just to show some fancy sword."
Dogan, artisan of the Granite Steel Guild.
He reacted indifferently when the man presented the sword.
And without even examining it closely, he tried to rush through the talk.
These were people who treated artisans without proper courtesy, like mere tools.
So, was it not fitting to respond as irresponsible laborers rather than true masters?
"Dogan!?"
"Huh? Whoa!? When did I—"
At that moment.
Artisan Dogan jolted in surprise, eyes widening.
When he came to, wasn't he already approaching the man!?
Dogan! Snap out of it!!! Stay calm—we ain't sharing our craft with folks who treat us like tools!
Artisan Mulin hurried over, whispering sharply.
Dogan nodded in reflection.
His comrade was absolutely right.
Bowing here would mean abandoning his pride as an artisan.
"Right. Mulin, you're—... Mulin?"
"Huh? Whoa!? When did I—"
At that moment.
Artisan Mulin jolted in surprise, eyes widening.
When he came to, wasn't he drawn right up to the man's sword like a magnet?
"..."
"..."
The two dwarf artisans exchanged glances.
Their fiercely trembling eyes symbolized a crisis for their artisan pride.
They now stood at a critical crossroads where their artisan dignity hung in the balance.
If they let themselves get captivated by this man's sword—
The stubborn, noble pride they'd upheld until now would crumble utterly.
Was that truly acceptable!?
They strained with all their might not to let their gaze be stolen by the sword.
"First off, this is an ego sword called the Blue Lotus—"
At that moment.
Judging their behavior as interest, perhaps, the man spoke up.
Hmph.
The two artisans snorted inwardly.
Not some apprentice, even.
They'd come too far to get starry-eyed over a mere ego sword.
"As it stands now, it's in a bit of an ambiguous state to qualify as a proper ego sword."
"Looks like it wasn't maintained well? That's why the sword's ego ended up damaged."
"Oh, you saw right through it?"
"Eh, common case. Probably the ego sword suddenly refused to communicate with you or something."
"Ah, not quite. How should I put it—the ego sword's interior is literally empty, you could say?"
The two artisans let out an involuntary sigh.
It happened often enough.
People who couldn't accept rejection from their ego swords and came crawling to the Granite Steel Guild.
To the two artisans, the man was exhibiting their typical behavior.
Their mouths itched to explain the reality, but they held back.
Offering counsel on tricky knowledge like ego swords would fulfill their duty as artisans!
Right now, they were mere laborers, weren't they?
"The ego sword's interior is empty? That's a big problem! Did the ego escape to a new body or something?"
Dogan, forgetting himself, spouted something an apprentice might say.
Mulin shook his head beside him.
It was utterly unworthy of an artisan.
As if an ego could just slip out like water from a canteen—
"Oh! You even figured that much!?"
"?"
But the man's reaction was oddly off.
"Exactly! This ego sword's ego has been transferred elsewhere. So it's an ego-less ego sword, you might say."
"Heh! An ego sword's ego moving to another sword? Never heard of that—"
"C'mon, Dogan. Don't say that. Who knows? Maybe not a sword—coulda moved to a body."
This time, it was apprentice-level stupidity even a newbie wouldn't utter.
Just as Dogan and Mulin were about to burst into utterly irresponsible laughter.
"My god!!! Spot on!!! How did you know that far!?"
"?"
"You're both right! This ego sword's ego recovered its past flesh and moved back there!"
"...That's even possible?"
A dazed tone, like an apprentice blurting out.
But this time, it was undoubtedly as artisans.
An ego sword becoming an ego human.
In their combined decades of smithing, it was a first.
Probably unprecedented in all smithing history?
"..."
"..."
"Sir?"
"Ah!"
"Ha!"
At that moment.
The two artisans jolted in surprise, eyes widening.
When they came to, weren't they nose-deep in the ego-less ego sword!?
This won't do!
Showing interest in an ego-less ego sword.
Far too artisan-like!
They whipped their heads away fiercely.
There, entering their view: three swords.
Each emitting black, purple, and red hues, faintly exuding an ominous aura.
Once more, they blurted out apprentice-level nonsense.
"These swords! That ominous vibe—could they be demon swords!?"
Demon swords.
Those shards of the night, passed down as legends among smiths, held fame beyond holy swords.
Heroes might seek smiths for holy swords, sure—
But demon sword wielders never came asking for checks.
Monstrosities capable of razing cities.
Calling it a demon sword just cuz it felt ominous.
No statement could be more unprofessional or foolish.
"Dogan! You thought the same! Looks like demon swords to me too!"
"Oh...!!!"
But then.
The man gasped in admiration again.
"Heh heh, what? We nailed it again, eh? Three legendary demon swords gathered in one spot?"
"Precisely!"
"Hahaha! So be it! Then in the next room over, that so-called sheath or true form, the Dark Armor, must be waiting?"
Admiration again.
Not from the man this time.
My god! Rishir! These smiths are no joke!!! Guessing everything so spot-on from one look!?
The holy sword showered praise on the two artisans.
Despite nothing but idiotic nonsense as fake laborers since arriving.
"..."
"..."
Deep in thought, the two artisans.
At last, they cried out to the man.
Dogan and Mulin, artisans of the Granite Steel Guild.
These proud dwarf masters never shared their craft without proper respect and sincerity.
But exceptions exist.
Dwarves feel infinite honor when a great swordsman wields their work.
The man before them now.
Master of an ego-less ego sword.
Master of the holy sword.
Master of three demon swords.
The two artisans were convinced.
They'd never meet a greater swordsman in their lives!
"Milord!!! It's an honor you sought us out!!!"
"I, Mulin of the Granite Steel Guild!!! I'll pour my career into meeting your expectations, milord!!!"
And so.
The two dwarves, who had posed as worthless laborers spouting drivel, switched gears to true artisans.
"Your astonishing insight and discernment...!!! I have high hopes! Please, take good care of us!"
Rishir noticed not the slightest change.
Late at night.
Two dwarves were dragged to the Ashen Company's residence.
And by morning.
Dozens of dwarves bustled about the residence.
They had pulled an all-nighter, immersed in examining the scabbard.
"Everyone! Even if it's for me, you don't need to go this far—"
"Hey, human! Don't just stand there getting in the way—move!!!"
"Ah! You're all just enjoying it!"
Summoning guild comrades whom Dogan and Mulin had been resting with wasn't hard.
Demon swords.
Scabbards.
Those two words sufficed.
Once Dogan and Mulin relayed what they'd seen and heard, eyes blazing, they grabbed tools and swarmed the residence.
Thus, past dawn into afternoon.
Rishir received glad tidings from the Granite Steel Guild.
"You can restore the scabbard into an artifact form brimming with mighty power?"
"Yes!"
"Oh..."
That ominous aura.
That perilous nature.
For Rishir, who had figured purification and sealing as best, this was an unexpected windfall.
"However. We deem the process far from easy."
At that moment.
Artisans Dogan and Mulin stepped forward.
"This armor is the pinnacle of ancient, mystical, and grand craftsmanship. Restoring it—even with our entire Granite Steel Guild—won't be simple. Likely, it could become our guild's lifelong endeavor for years... nay, decades."
"D-Decades...?"
Rishir's vision darkened at the astronomical timeframe.
That meant not him, but his distant descendants would come claiming it.
Inevitable!!! That thing ain't for mortal trash like us—only a true chosen one could handle it!!!
Rishir nodded belatedly.
Timeframe aside.
The fact restoration was possible deserved emphasis.
"But, what reason demands such an immense duration?"
Rishir asked out of pure curiosity.
"Truth be told. With sufficient materials, restoration would take a week—no, under three days."
"...So, procuring materials alone takes decades?"
"Well—they ain't the sort you snag just cuz they're cracked or whatever..."
"...What kind of materials are they?"
"See—"
Mulin pulled out a notepad and donned glasses.
He began reading from it.
"Leaves of the World Tree, dragon scales, demon tears, high-grade spirit cores—... That's the core list for now. And—"
At that moment.
Mulin chuckled.
The list seemed curated from the continent's hardest-to-get treasures.
He shrugged at Rishir, seeking commiseration.
"Uh, Mr. Mulin?"
"Yes, speak, hero."
"Some of those materials—I think I could fetch them right now—"
"Oh, really!? That'd help immensely!"
Mulin brightened, flipping open the notepad again.
He unfurled a page crammed with auxiliary materials.
Truth be told.
Unless it was main materials, it wouldn't help much, but easing the load was something.
"Then, could you tell me which ones?"
"Shall we start with demon tears?"
"Pardon?"