+9... A +9 Reinforcement?!

Vulcan stared blankly at the ecstatic glow emanating from the +9 Blessed Sun Sword, utterly entranced.

A +9 reinforcement? He hadn't even touched something like that back in his prime. Sure, it grated that this miracle had happened to something as basic as the Sun Sword—a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠weapon he couldn't even sell—but he couldn't complain. In truth, this was practically a free pass through the mid-levels.

Is this really mine?

He didn't need to check the other options. The sheer attack power boost from the reinforcement alone would make it rival a 300-level Rare-grade item in overwhelming firepower. What would happen if he swung this around at level 150? Or even 200? Attack skills? Defense? Would any of that even matter?

His hands trembled before he even took the sword from Gremori. In that moment, he didn't envy the heroes of the Age of Divine Swords one bit. At least for the foreseeable future, he'd boast the same majesty as a Divine Sword's master.

Vulcan reverently accepted the sword from Gremori and checked its info, nearly fainting ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠on the spot. The attack power had more than doubled, and even the bonus options had seen massive numerical buffs. It still lacked an added attack skill, which was a shame, but that hardly mattered. Every single strike would pack one-shot lethality thanks to the insane damage multiplier.

On paper, it was just double the attack power, but actual damage wasn't that simple—it factored in strength, agility, item effects, titles, skill multipliers, and more. The game's complex formulas created damage spike thresholds, and the +9 Blessed Sun Sword blew right past them all. Plus, with Vulcan's all-in strength build and his Sword Mastery skill (derived from Item Master) hitting C-rank for 160% attack power, the real DPS was beyond even his calculations.

They're all dead. For real. Heh heh heh!

"Congratulations. I didn't think it'd reinforce this successfully either."

"...?"

Vulcan's face froze at Gremori's warm, genuine smile. Was this seriously not a guaranteed success event? Nine straight reinforcements without a single failure?

A chill ran down his spine. What if it'd failed at +8 to +9? The thought alone was dizzying.

- Hmph. He's lying.

Y-yeah? It was guaranteed after all...

- Even with those Protection Stones.

Tud's grumbling nearly reassured him, but the follow-up was baffling. Protection Stones prevented destruction on one failure—precious consumables that absorbed unstable mana in the gear's place. Gremori's explanation implied real failure (or destruction) was possible.

My luck's insane.

Gremori had probably planned to stop after one failure, at +1 or +8. Vulcan's fortune had carried it.

"Thank you. I'll put it to good use."

What was done was done. This windfall was his sword now. To avoid any "let's try one more" nonsense, Vulcan stashed it in his inventory. Gremori wiped sweat from his brow and offered final advice.

"You could attempt +10 or higher, but I don't recommend it. That's far beyond limits. Only legendary-infused gear survives; ordinary stuff shatters. Hmm... if anything, maybe aim for elemental reinforcement."

From +10 on, it was Legendary territory. Even then, survival wasn't guaranteed. Vulcan had no intention of that madness—Protection Stones couldn't save +10 failures.

Creia lost her mind trying that.

Proven by bitter examples; no temptation there. Maybe elemental, as Gremori suggested—using special Elemental Reinforcement Stones to infuse attributes instead of raw power.

But do I need to?

Elemental infusion locked you in, reducing power against counters. Rankers carried sets for each element or specialized weapons. But with one overpowering blade, Vulcan had no greed for that. The raw strength wouldn't vanish even with penalties.

This'll carry me comfy through early-mid 300s. No reason to push.

"Hope that was useful. Sorry if this old man rambled on about basics. Heh heh."

"Not at all. I learned a ton."

Gremori's face softened at Vulcan's sparkling eyes, adding one last tip with evident eagerness to teach.

"Mastering reinforcement ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠basics needs power, skill, and deep item knowledge. You'll excel there. But one more thing—even artisans overlook it, yet it's far more vital."

"More vital?"

"Yes. Without it, power, skill, knowledge—meaningless."

Beyond power, skill, knowledge? Vulcan's mind sharpened. He'd thought those covered it. Some secret artisan trick?

His thirsty gaze prompted Gremori's solemn answer.

"Dexterity."

"Dex...terity?"

Dexterity? Here? The grave tone clashed with the anticlimax; Vulcan's expression twisted oddly.

"That look says it all. Fair enough—dexterity's every artisan's foundation, so overlooked. But it's the key puzzle completing everything. Knowledge is useless without execution. It demands endless repetition, seems subtle, but mastery skyrockets success rates and crafting quality."

Vulcan was lost on how to react. Dexterity had made him Tud's incarnation and boosted mining, but he'd felt little else from the stat.

Misreading it, Gremori nodded sympathetically.

"I get the frustration. Unlike physical stats, it grinds slow, bone-deep effort. But you're young—steady work will get you there."

"Hmm... what's the 'mastery' threshold?"

No, his dexterity was high, but maybe not by Gremori's bar. Vulcan pressed; Gremori hemmed evasively.

"Effort knows no limits. Even I can't judge artisans lightly..."

But Vulcan's insistent stare won out.

"First, this 'mastery' is reachable with diligent effort to Advanced Artisan. You're young, with time—craft and study, and you'll hit it."

Don't give up, he says at length. How high is it?

Braced, Vulcan waited. The punchline dropped.

"Proper mastery needs... around 500. But as I said, achievable..."

500?

Ridiculous—he'd hit that ages ago. He shot Tud a bewildered, resentful glare. Minimum for Tud's incarnation was Dexterity 500? Insanely high.

- What're you staring at? Hmph. A real artisan would've nodded meekly...

Fair—Legendary class explained it. He'd lucked into it, after crazy efforts to reach 500.

"Got it. So 500 does it? Next threshold?"

"Ho, bold! That rivals any artisan. Next is ~1,000—major shift, but only the nameless artisan of the Divine Sword Age allegedly reached it."

Dexterity 1,000...

Uncapped by points, it'd be tough. But he was past 500, plus production gains post-reclass. 1,000 someday? Exciting, distant prospect.

Short chit-chat followed, but nothing more. No refill on stones—Gremori sent him off, those his last.

"+9 sword, heh heh heh!"

Out of the workshop, Vulcan first disabled weapon effects via system. The aura screamed "mug me"—save it for untouchable strength. Envy bred reckless challengers.

“The Teleportation Circle (Zhèn) is still completely non-functional, and I’ve got plenty of levels left to grind anyway—so, don't you think it’s finally the perfect time to put this theory to the test?”

Next: Alter for main scenario. But Gremori said repairs near done—days, not months. Vulcan prioritized: hunt, level, test the +9 blade.

"Can't just air-swing."

Not straight to fields—Smell's half-ruined, artisans questing lost materials. He grabbed a pile, then headed out.

"That one's perfect."

Experience optimized routes; first, Grizzly Boars in Slowpoke Plains. Brutish, thick-hided melee nightmares—ideal tests.

No room for slacking.

Slow but bursty acceleration. Still, Vulcan expected quick kills—his power overwhelmed.

"Huh?"

As he charged, the system announced a field boss. Better test? He halted, activating Dragon Eye.

Stone Eater's spawn pinpointed.

There.

~1 min delay post-alert. Vulcan clocked exact spawn—seconds precise.

"Combat Prep."

He honed the +9 Blessed Sun Sword's edge, amplifying its aura.

"Flame Blade."

Not Radin's power, but holy flames suited the Sun Sword, engulfing the blade. Counting seconds, he charged the spawn.

"Blessing of Strength."

HP burned to amp his power.

"Focused Strike."

Power swelled per combo—even singles gained burst and speed.

"Kuuuwaaah!!!!"

Stone Eater emerged: stone-skinned behemoth, thrice Grizzly Boars' size. It roared ferociously, scattering aura, stomping quake-waves that upheaved earth.

"Wind Walk."

Fear ignored via Ash Blessing; quakes missed. Mid-air stepping like ground, he slashed its brow with full might.

"Strength Amp. Judgment Strike!"

Pouring every ounce of power he could muster.