50. The Vessel That Holds the Heart

Having completely monopolized the resources from every floor I'd cleared so far, I had more than enough gold overflowing my pockets. No matter how much I poured into item enhancements or stocked up on potions and white scrolls, my funds would never run dry. Dark elf gear might be high-end shop-bought stuff with hefty prices, but it was still just Floor 7 equipment. With the gold I'd amassed, I could buy hundreds of these without batting an eye.

"What? You wanna buy out my entire stock of weapons? ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Some kinda human joke?"

The dark elf blacksmith didn't take my words at face value, assuming it was some metaphor or prank. I hadn't expected him to take it seriously either. I just wanted to say it once, that's all.

But it wasn't a joke. I opened my inventory and hit the gold drop button.

-Ching ching ching!

A massive pile of coins spilled out like sand from a dune. The blacksmith stared at it in a daze.

"You've even got the wide inventory box, huh? But seriously, is all this real gold?"

"Yeah."

"Has human alchemy advanced to the point where you can churn out gold like this? Or what, are you some kinda royalty?"

The short dark elf blacksmith let out a disbelieving guffaw. So, you selling or not?

"I thought you were cute, so I was gonna pick out a nice weapon for you, but your antics ain't cute at all. Fine, I'll sell."

Muttering complaints, the blacksmith pulled weapons off the wall and laid them out in front of me.

The options were outstanding, even for shop-bought gear. Especially the durability, just as I'd hoped. The base stats beyond that weren't incredible, but the maximum enhancement slots at 15 were overwhelmingly high. Slap on a bunch of Sharp enhancements, and it'd outpace most low-level unique weapons.

"Mind-blowing."

Even in the open community, warriors who full-set Ebony gear from the dark elves got called "total wallet warriors." Of course, anyone with the capital for that wouldn't class as warrior in the first place—it was just a joke. Still, there was a reason for the saying. This was pure pay-to-win gear.

"I'll take 'em all."

"You're really buying everything?"

I paid the blacksmith and equipped the Ebony Steel Blade. One reason I loved low-level shop gear was its no-frills design. High-level uniques often had flashy looks that could get in the way sometimes.

This Ebony weapon was sleek and refined, with perfect weight balance that fit my hand like a glove. In terms of pure handling, it rivaled my favorite simple design, the Steel Straight Sword. Good call picking the dark elf faction.

Time to swap everything to dark elf-made gear. Which meant, of course, enhancements.

"You want me to enhance all these dozens of weapons? Even if I used up every material in my shop, I couldn't."

To the baffled blacksmith, I opened my inventory and dumped out enhancement materials.

"Aigoo, my back's gonna kill me today."

With a sigh, the blacksmith grabbed his hammer.

The blacksmith grumbled ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠but took the materials and headed to his workbench. I wondered if I'd have to specify enhancement options verbally, but luckily, a system window popped up soon enough.

Max materials out, of course. And options? All-in on Durability, naturally.

"You want even more durability? Planning to dig through a mountain with it?"

Switching from my usual shop set meant dumping everything into durability. The blacksmith griped like he didn't get it but diligently hammered away.

Watching was pretty entertaining.

-Clang! ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Clang! Clang!

He shoveled in materials, fired up the bellows and forge, then poured his soul into hammering on the anvil. Nothing special compared to other blacksmith NPCs, you might say. But here's the key: dark elves all have killer figures. This one was short, but her chest? Not small at all. Working by the fire meant light clothing... and every careful swing made 'em, well, jiggle.

I was live-watching one of the open community's eternal memes: Dainty Big-Tits Night Blacksmith's 200% Sincere Hammering.

"There, all done again. Take it."

Finishing enhancements way faster than average NPCs, the blacksmith handed over each weapon one by one.

"But seriously, what're you gonna do with all these ultra-tough blades? I can't even imagine."

"I like tough weapons."

"Ain't they a bit too tough? And why do you need dozens?"

I tried brushing it off—too lazy to explain—but worried about affinity dropping, so I gave a vague rundown. Too-strong weapons hinder growth, and handling multiples means needing spares.

The blacksmith set down one enhanced blade, then asked, baffled:

"How rough do you treat 'em that you need multiples as backups?"

"I'm pretty strong, so they snap easy in fights."

"Pfft, strong enough to break weapons that quick? Show me your usual gear."

She had that nosy village elder vibe. Without thinking, I showed her my go-to shop set and occasional ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠full gear.

She tsked and sighed at my stuff, putting on a stern face.

"Human, this ain't the weapons' fault—it's yours."

And just like that, the nagging began.

Come to think of it, dark elves were long-lived like elves in other stories. Humans max out at a century; to elves, that's prime youth. Maybe that's why this pint-sized blacksmith scolded me like a total boomer.

"Sheesh, if you die, those broken blades'll greet you at the gates cursing you out. 'Why blame us?'"

She could tell exactly how I'd abused them just from the edge wear. Treating weapons like a beast would? Humans gone feral? She ranted on.

Most of my combat tech came from lizardmen, so yeah, beast-mode made sense.

"Anyway, I can't just stand by. Even for the weapons I gave you, I gotta meddle."

With that, she fetched a paper from the back, scribbled something illegible—dark elf script, probably.

"Find this Rizmel and show her the letter. Say it's from Erwen; she'll get it."

"Who's that?"

"My kin. Young, but her swordplay's top-notch. The letter'll get her to teach you properly."

My eyes widened. Sword training? Wasn't that half the reason I picked dark elves?

Some Tower NPCs teach skills for a fee under "training." Community said dark elf faction had one. But it required high affinity and a chain of quests. Did this skip it all for straight sword lessons?

"Don't gawk like that—ain't forcing you. But learn proper, and I'll give you a reward."

Misreading my shock as reluctance, she cleared her throat and added unilaterally. And right on cue, a blue quest window appeared.

Like the shepherd girl's quests, loaded with optional goals. No clue what Rizmel's training or exams entailed, but it'd help tons. And a separate reward on top? Even junk was welcome.

"Got some fine ingots lately. I'll forge you a custom sword. How's that?"

I opened the open community, searched up an old dumb post I'd seen.

And hit upvote instantly. Dark elves were the best race, confirmed.