Black, It's Been a While (3)
Savoring my tea, I took a moment to check the appraisal results. Clink—I set down my teacup.
To cut to the chase:
"What a shame."
First off, there was apparently no way in the Mage Tower to lower the item's level restriction.
◈ Restriction: Lv. 400
◈ Effect: High chance of additional damage on attacks.
◈ Description: An orb filled with vampire blood. Each contact with mana causes the blood to burst, dealing damage to the target.
Additional damage with a high probability on every attack? It seemed like it might pair well with me.
Magic allows for creative manifestations, after all.
For instance, imagine shattering a single rock into tiny fragments and hurling them at the enemy. Each little pebble would trigger the additional damage effect, more than doubling the total output.
That's why I'd requested the appraisal—to see if we could somehow salvage that effect.
Lv. 400 is too far off.
My level was a mere 226.
It's a lost cause.
With that thought, my eyes naturally drifted to the postscript.
—The [Vampire Count's Orb] possesses an effect so rare even the Mage Tower struggles to appraise it fully. Given its unusual nature, we suspect a connection to demonic artifacts.
Thus, we formally request to borrow the [Vampire Count's Orb] for research purposes.—
"A borrowing request, is it?"
Demonic items were indeed rare. And this one was of particularly high caliber.
I didn't deliberate long.
Scritch—I swiftly scribbled across the parchment with the quill.
I accepted the request. Regardless of its immediate utility, it was just taking up inventory space for me. And above all, the esteemed Mage Tower wouldn't abscond with an item.
Besides.
"All things demand give and take, after all."
Yes, give and take.
I glanced down at my brooch for no particular reason.
...It'll have something to say about this.
If they ever demanded the hexagram brooch back, I could offer the [Vampire Count's Orb] to stall. Considering the Mage Tower's abundance of magical artifacts, they might even forget about it.
I'll bear the loss until Lv. 400. Generous of me.
Who knew? Good research results might even benefit me.
I set aside that idle hope and moved to the next item.
[Pure Emerald Crystal]. As a material item, it could be crafted to my specifications, it seemed. As expected of the Mage Tower.
Even before crafting, they'd provided a rough outline of its effects.
—Appraisal confirms the ability to imbue [On-hit life force recovery] effect.—
Back when Arcana was just a game, I could see how the Mage Tower raked in players' gold.
Knowing the effect before crafting!
It meant tailoring equipment perfectly to that effect. No wonder players shelled out fortunes for appraisals.
And here I was, enjoying this premium service for free.
Feels a bit like I've made it. Not bad.
On-hit life force recovery. Above all, it was a universally useful effect, unbound by class.
If I think about reselling later...
Definitely best as an accessory. The appraisal even recommended crafting it into one.
And crucially, they could adjust the level restriction to suit me, making it wearable right away.
"No need to hesitate on this one."
I picked up the quill again, but paused for the final item: [Island Treasure, Koi Scale Silk]. Time to check the most intriguing appraisal.
◈ Restriction: None
◈ Effect: When crafted, grants the crafted item increased fire affinity / increased evasion probability / unlocks aesthetics stat.
◈ Description: Silk so precious it could trade for gems of equal weight. Its rarity defies valuation.
Above all, the mystery was the aesthetics stat.
It never showed up, even scouring the internet.
Surely the Mage Tower would know something. But the result was unexpected.
"Hmm."
...Even the Mage Tower didn't know?
The parchment clearly stated it was an "unknown ability, unconfirmed."
True to their pursuit of the unknown and truth, there was a postscript, just like with the orb. Needless to say, a polite borrowing request.
Yes, they'd be curious. An unknown power. They'd only be satisfied after verifying aesthetics.
But.
"Regrettably."
This one, I couldn't yield.
This is for survival, not research...!
Of course, lower level restrictions meant weaker absolute performance. But was I in a position to be picky?
Any material that helped even a little needed crafting and use—that was my reality.
And above all, Grandfell's aesthetic sense.
"I've already decided its purpose."
That lofty discernment had a specific creation in mind for this scale silk from the start.
My gaze drifted to the empty pocket of my jacket.
Scritch—In the end, I penned my final reply on the parchment.
REPLY
[Vampire Count's Orb] — Lend
[Pure Emerald Crystal] — Craft as Accessory
[Island Treasure, Koi Scale Silk] — Craft as Handkerchief
Handkerchief.
...Something I never would've imagined.
A handkerchief satisfied both formality and aesthetics. If it came with decent effects, even better.
Who knows until it's done?
The aesthetics stat's effect wasn't up to me.
All I could do was add a postscript.
—I desire the finest result, cost be damned.
—I expect the Mage Tower's capabilities.—
Scritch—Very much in character.
...Now that I thought about it, something felt missing.
Matis Din Karl! I'd forgotten that senior mage's message.
I checked it belatedly.
Oh no.
If it'd been proof like the Sage's Pastime, I might've felt better. But this was just a simple request.
Matis Din Karl
—...I'll be waiting in the Floating Garden.—
I didn't know his face, familiarity, or purpose. But broadly speaking, weren't we coworkers? Technically temp contract, but still.
Is he still waiting?
I'd ghosted an internal message without even heading to the rendezvous.
Wait, the Floating Garden...
The Mage Tower's social hub. Easy enough to find—among the research tomes were structural guides. That's where I'd learned the term too.
Yet I remained seated at my desk, unmoving.
Damn this obsession with formality and procedure! No flexibility whatsoever.
Without mutual agreement, even coworkers didn't warrant a meeting. Not even if they'd waited ages at the spot.
I thought again.
No matter how I look at it...
Quitting my job was divine intervention!
Imagine defying orders, yelling at the boss—with silver hair, no less.
...Horrifying just to picture.
Sorry to Matis, but no helping it. This stubbornness wouldn't bend—I knew from experience.
Like refusing interviews. Or telling players to learn manners first.
Endless examples...
Lee Hoyeol
—Troublesome.—
Just four characters. My reply.
Text appeared almost immediately.
Matis Din Karl
—Then, tomorrow afternoon?
No hint of rejection; sharp as ever.
Now I was curious about his goal. A senior mage, obviously probing my qualifications.
I took up the quill.
Lee Hoyeol
—That too is troublesome.
Afternoon had prior commitments—sword training.
Another rejection conveyed.
Yet instant reply again.
Matis Din Karl
—Then the day after, morning?
...This was three refusals and persistence worthy of Zhuge Liang. I got why his resolve wavered.
Of course, Grandfell's stubbornness dwarfed that. My acceptance wasn't sentiment—it was simply morning, when I'd be in the Tower anyway.
Buyer and seller roles reversed, huh.
I spoke as if it were obvious.
"Morning works."
...Yeah, I'm great. Really.
*
Grip—I grasped the sword.
Swish—I swung it.
Repeating the motions.
Damn demon hunter.
Unfortunately, skills didn't generate from rote repetition. In Arcana, skills were class exclusives.
Effort alone doesn't unlock them.
Not even other class skills were generally learnable.
But I knew. Beyond skills, there existed another "something."
Magic was one such.
And apparently, this sword aura was too.
Hummm—I gazed at the light emanating from the blade.
My hunch was spot on.
"It's no easy feat, but think of becoming one with the sword."
No deep insight or enlightenment needed.
"You are the sword, and the sword is you... Ah?!"
Like magic, pure intuition. Just by observing and imitating.
I could emit sword aura too.
Harcon couldn't hide his shock.
"...N-No way! I never dreamed it possible!"
Of course, my aura was pathetic compared to his—faint, really.
Worse than Jessica or Enoch.
"Sir Hoyeol, do you grasp how monumental this is?!"
Harcon was visibly thrilled. But even without his words, I felt it somewhat.
Experiencing sword aura firsthand showed its greatness.
...Now I see why he stressed stamina.
Sword aura drains you, he'd said. I understood completely.
Felt like chunks of stamina vanishing...!
Just emitting it had sweat trickling down my back. Fatigue piled on in real time.
I realized anew.
Skipped the groundwork entirely.
Sword aura neared swordsmanship's pinnacle.
Filling a bottomless jar—extreme consumption was natural, be it stamina or whatever.
Consider my level: a measly 226.
Worlds apart from Harcon, let alone Lv. 430 Jessica or Lv. 400 Enoch.
Strength and agility gaps? Obvious.
With all points in magic.
Still, no whining. I knew how to compensate.
...Class quest!
Perfect fix for stamina, strength, agility at once.
So I showed no weakness.
Sheathing the aura, I brazenly declared,
"The sunlight feels especially warm today."
Weather as excuse to wipe sweat.
...Shameless squirming, but it worked.
Harcon's fussing dragged on.
"I've long suspected, but today I can say confidently: Sir Hoyeol! You must walk the path of the sword. Five fingers? Top three on the continent at least...!"
After his lengthy praise, Harcon added,
"Frankly, I've nothing left to teach."
Wait, what?
Just days in, and done?! What "done"?!
Where else to find a teacher like Harcon?
Still so much to leech... er, learn!
Skill acquisition aside, it felt unjust.
Wanted to show my shattered foundation.
But no need, thankfully.
"Now you enter the phase of learning through real combat."
"Real combat."
"Indeed! Perfect timing—no better arena. Yusra Kingdom teems with beasts nearby. Sword aura deepens amid life-and-death battles, gaining its unique hue."
Ah, that was it.
No need for regret, then.
I'd wondered myself.
How strong am I without natural enemy active?
No great hopes, honestly.
I knew my place. My class.
Demon hunter. Useless outside demon hunts.
A class with loose screws otherwise.
But.
...Huh?
Thud!—Watching the collapsing monster, I thought:
This exceeds expectations.