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Translator: CinderTL
Roland gazed at the last wisp of wind-like energy fading from the Mithril Longsword's blade, his fingertips tracing its cold, razor-sharp edge.
The brief surge of power he had just unleashed was merely the tip of the iceberg, yet it clearly demonstrated the viability of this path.
And revealed the immeasurable potential hidden within this Mithril Longsword.
"To fully invoke its true name and completely unleash its power, the required mental power would instantly drain any ordinary spellcaster dry."
His tone carried no hint of concern, only a sense of careful evaluation.
The mental power threshold demanded by this Mithril Longsword might be an insurmountable barrier for most in this world, a despairing wall they could never hope to breach in their lifetimes.
They had no choice.
But Roland was different.
The basic classes that granted bonuses to mental attributes, and even higher-tier classes, were the bricks he needed to build this staircase.
Even if each basic class offered only limited enhancements, with sufficient accumulation, quantitative changes would inevitably lead to qualitative transformation.
This path was simple, direct, and most importantlyβ
Completely under his control.
One day, when the ocean of his mental power could finally quench the sword's insatiable thirst, all its inscriptions would reveal their secrets before him.
As he envisioned that moment, a deep, unwavering light flashed in Roland's eyes.
This wasn't some distant fantasy, but a clearly visible future destined to be realized.
With a flick of his wrist, the Mithril Longsword sliced through the air, emitting a final, faint chime before settling smoothly back into its sheath. All the otherworldly phenomena vanished completely.
Turning, Roland refocused his attention on the pile of carefully sorted, high-quality mithril ore fragments.
The rhythmic clang of forging soon resumed, steady and measured. Unnoticed, dusk gradually descended, painting the sky with twilight hues.
"Phew..."
Roland exhaled deeply, massaging his aching temples as he packed the newly forged mithril tools into a burlap sack at his feet. He rose and strode out of the workshop.
After nodding respectfully to Noel at the front desk, he headed home.
"Roland!"
Before he could push open the courtyard gate, a clear, bright voice suddenly rang out.
Looking up, he saw the elf girl perched on the wall, her slender legs swinging gently in the air.
"Why are you so late?"
"Avril?" Roland raised an eyebrow as he pushed open the gate and stepped inside. "What do you want?"
"Of course I have something!" Avril immediately leaped down from the wall and trailed closely behind him. "Have you forgotten your promise?"
"Promise?" Roland glanced around the courtyard, noticing it was now deserted. A slight frown creased his brow as he slowly lowered the burlap sack from his shoulder.
"Exactly! You're being so unfair, Roland!"
Avril stepped in front of him.
"Have you forgotten what you promised in the Mistland? You said that if we returned safely, you'd treat us to a week-long celebration at the royal capital's finest guild hall!"
"Ah, that's what this is about..."
Roland sighed in relief, his tense body relaxing slightly.
He crouched down, opened the burlap sack, and began rummaging through it while asking, "So... Mr. Bronson and the others have already gone?"
"Yes! They eagerly set off for the Golden Acorn early this morning, just waiting for their generous benefactor to arrive!" Avril said cheerfully, her gaze fixed on the bulging sack, her curiosity practically overflowing.
Roland nodded, his hands moving swiftly. He quickly retrieved two items from the sack:
A dagger with sleek lines and a blade that seemed to shimmer with faint currents of air, and a dozen arrows that gleamed with the cold, silvery light of mithril, their tips specially sharpened.
"For you," he said, handing the dagger and arrows to Avril.
"Huh? What's this...?" Avril blinked her large, emerald-green eyes as she accepted them.
The moment her fingertips touched the dagger, she could sense the vibrant wind element energy within, as if the blade yearned to slice through the air.
"An enchanted weapon? And made of mithril!"
"Mm-hmm," Roland replied calmly.
"It's crafted from scrap mithril and infused with the wind element. It's much sharper than ordinary iron, but because the material is impure, it's not very durable and chips easily. Handle it with care."
"The arrows are the same principle. They'll have improved accuracy and range, but don't expect to reuse them."
He paused, watching Avril curiously examine the dagger. Then he pulled two more items from his bag: a simple, cold-silver ring and a necklace inlaid with tiny, shimmering gemstones.
"These two are similar to the weapon in construction, with special patterns etched inside."
Avril held the dagger in one hand and accepted the ring and necklace with the other, her eyes shining with even greater curiosity.
"Their primary purpose isn't for daily wear or aesthetics. Ifβand I mean ifβyou find yourself in an emergency with no time to react, pour a large amount of mana into them to forcibly disrupt their internal structure."
"And then what?" Avril asked, cradling the sudden gifts and shifting her gaze between the weapon and the jewelry.
"The mana circuits inside will instantly collapse, causing the accumulated elemental energy to erupt uncontrollably. This will create a decent mana shockwave, enough to buy you some escape time or create chaos," Roland explained.
"It's just a small emergency measure," he added, feeling he had explained everything clearly. These were purely practical self-defense tools.
As for why he had crafted them into necklaces and rings, it was entirely for concealment. After all, no one would suspect that seemingly ordinary jewelry could transform into deadly magical bombs with a sudden surge of mana.
However, as the elf girl examined the exquisitely crafted items in her hands, a faint blush crept across her cheeks. Her emerald eyes sparkled as she looked at Roland, abruptly interrupting his technical explanation with a direct question:
"Roland, did you... make these just for me?"
Her voice carried a hint of anticipation and cautious probing, a rare departure from her usually straightforward demeanor.
But Roland completely missed the deeper meaning in her words, simply nodding matter-of-factly.
"Of course."
After all, Avril wouldn't be joining them on this journey, and the limited supply of high-quality mithril ore he had on hand was only enough to craft these three small items.
As for the others, whether it was Theresa or Galvis, their inherent strength, combined with Roland's presence, was more than sufficient to handle most situations.
Avril's eyes lit up instantly at his decisive answer. She carefully stowed away the ring, necklace, and dagger, as if cradling priceless treasures, the corners of her mouth twitching upward despite her efforts to suppress her smile.
"I... I understand!" she said, her voice noticeably lighter. "I'll take good care of them! Absolutely!"
Roland watched her sudden transformation into someone unusually cheerful and earnest. Though he didn't fully grasp the reason behind her reaction, he was satisfied that she had accepted the gifts, achieving his purpose.
"Good. Then let's head to the Golden Acorn to find Mr. Bronson and the others."
"Okay!" Avril nodded vigorously, her mood clearly buoyant. She followed him with a spring in her step, her fingers unconsciously caressing the cool mithril ring and necklace in her pocket.
A seven-day, seven-night revelry was out of the question. After all, they had less than a week before departing from the River Domain Nations for the Golden Valley Kingdom.
Even so, Roland and his companions indulged themselves at the Golden Acorn guild hall. The lavish lifestyle proved intoxicating, even for Roland.
But this indulgence couldn't last. The day to set off for the Golden Valley Kingdom had arrived before they knew it.
(End of the Chapter)
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