Chapter 641. A Quest Lasting Three Thousand Years
Two people, who believed that anything was possible with abundant resources and constant support, realized what could happen when human effort was pushed to its limits—ending up like a zombie that was still alive. Or, in some sense, a half-corpse that was dubiously alive.
"At least your situation is better. There are many who keep on pushing without any support," Davey remarked, gaining the hollow stares of the two. "And congratulations to both of you. You two have surpassed level 50."
Within a short span of time, these two had achieved an increase in level that others, even with money and support, would find difficult.
"I feel like throwing up," mumbled Maga, to which Cat Tower felt a rare sense of agreement for the first time in a while.
"Ugh..."
The reason for their intense focus on this task had become a mystery to them. Even if they liked their game avatar to grow, this was surely excessive.
Cat Tower and Maga, who gave signs that they could no longer take more, were met with Davey’s warm smile.
"Do you guys think this item is something you can obtain again?" Davey asked.
The Heart of Goumda was a unique item in this world, and failing meant all efforts would go to waste. Considering that a higher skill level increases processing probability, that means...
"I want perfection. A hundred percent. No compromise," Davey declared, causing the eyes of the two to darken.
"But... But just reaching level 50 puts one at the rank of a world-class player..."
"That's not enough. Aim for the top of all dimensions. Well, reaching too high is hard, so let's just lightly break through level 60," Davey suggested.
Unable to bear it any longer, Maga, who had been feeling nauseous, covered her mouth and looked away, seemingly one second away from puking her guts out as if the mere thought of working more sickened her.
On the other hand, Cat Tower staggered toward Davey with a vacant expression. He then held him by the arm, asking, "It’s not true, right? Tell me it’s not."
"There’s no changing my mind," Davey replied firmly.
"Hey, you bastard! Are you even a fucking human?!"
"This was your choice, wasn't it?" Davey teased, painting despair on their faces.
They had been producing an incredible amount of materials since reaching their fifties, even applying the Acceleration magic. But reaching such levels meant an immense quantity of required crafting materials, even if they used shortcuts.
‘This might be too much,’ Davey thought.
"Not exactly in grinding them... But rather, I've spent too much on supporting them."
The resources provided were not from Alf Online, as Davey scarcely had any of the in-game’s currency. Instead, they came from Tionis, where he shrewdly acquired them through a trade contract with the Lyndis Empire. Such an agreement enabled the empire to obtain a plethora of weapons and armor, while Davey not only procured the resources but also profited by reselling them as processed goods.
"Don't fret. I’ll take care of your exhaustion with magic," Davey assured.
But such a promise didn’t do anything to placate Cat Tower and Maga. If anything, it just instilled fear of being on the receiving end of Davey’s painful massages.
"I... I'll just skip it," Cat Tower said pleadingly and started running away from Davey.
However, Davey was quick to reply. With a tone that made his satisfaction about the situation evident, he said, "Hold on, did I say you have a choice?"
Davey quickly grabbed Cat Tower and subdued him while an ominous smile was plastered on his face.
And Cat Tower, despite sharing the same body size as Davey, could do nothing. After all, the disparity in strength was not something that could be judged by size alone.
"Don't worry. It would be just the back."
“AAAAAHHHH!”
With every movement of Davey’s hands that was on Cat Tower, loud screams would follow, and Cat Tower’s face would distort in agony.
Helplessly, he turned his head and looked at Oxygen and Hydro, who were both trembling in fear from a distance.
"Hydro, you traitor!"
Hydro could only look away.
* * *
Rumors suddenly began about two beginners who had dramatically increased their crafting skill levels.
High-level crafters were exceedingly rare, especially Matter Transmuters, since most found the process tedious and challenging to go through and make progress. Blacksmiths were a bit more common, but even reaching levels 20 to 30 and becoming a first-grade blacksmith would already garner attention. But level 50? Not only was it a matter of ranking, but also of efficiency and possible work. Essentially, crafters above level 50 were akin to rain in a drought for those striving to climb the rankings. With their offer of better quality and safety in creation, these elite and high-ranked craftsmen made it possible for a single guild to take center stage and dominate the scene.
After all, was it for this reason that the Black Wind Guild, which initially ranked second by harboring a top Chinese player, ascended to a world-class ranking?
But the game still attracted people for its realistic senses, diverse skills, and novel atmospheres in the face of accusations of being imbalanced.
"Still, isn't it too immersive?"
"Truth be told, it’s not just a game. It’s another reality presented as a game. That's why engaging actively in it can improve physical health beyond what can be achieved by medical norms.”
However, the international corporation managing Alf Online showed no interest in using such a unique technology elsewhere, and the company remained an impenetrable entity, bound by legal and power limitations.
Moreover, public opinion remained favorable despite the minimal in-game transactions.
"Probability... 99.5 percent..." Cat Tower muttered tiredly after having exhausted all options to achieve a 99.5 percent processing probability for the monster's scales. He then pitifully crawled to Davey, begging tearfully for the end of the torture. "Please... No more..."
A sense of pride washed over Davey for the persevering boy, and he then lightly patted Cat Tower in appreciation, praising him sincerely, “Good job.”
Such simple words seemed to revitalize the beleaguered crafter.
"Fi... Finally, it’s over. It’s done...."
But his relief only lasted for a fleeting moment, and Cat Tower's mood plummeted into the abyss again when Davey corrected him by saying, "Almost done."
"What... What?!"
"Just need to raise it by zero point five percent more. So let's keep our spirits up."
"Just... Just a moment!! To reach a hundred percent, we need to level up by five more levels and surpass level 60..."
"Right,” Davey agreed with a nod. “We can do it then. We have enough supplies, and time is on our side, so what's the issue?"
At this, Cat Tower’s face became utterly pale as though he had been drained of all his blood.
Maga, who was looking at Davey as if she was nauseous, trembled and took a step back. Though she was characteristically quite crazy, even that craziness simply turned into docility when faced with a psycho like him.
"Am... Am I okay now? Can I take a rest..."
"Who decided that? Shall we read the contract again?"
"..."
Eventually, when Cat Tower reached that splendid probability of a hundred percent, his level also surpassed 60.
And as Davey looked at the pallid faces of Cat Tower and Maga, who were both drooping with exhaustion, he realized that he could now start the main work.
Enthusiastically, he clapped his hands, alerting the two overworked crafters. He then threw the Heart of Goumda to Maga and handed the scales to Cat Tower.
"Let's begin."
Regardless of the outcome, an interesting creature would surely be born.
* * *
While Cat Tower and Maga were busy processing the materials of Goumda, Davey embarked on a different endeavor.
Regarding the matter of the twisted rich man, which was a promise he made to Maga, he left it to the Valkyries to deal with him however they pleased—whether that was to kill or spare him. So at the moment, Davey visited the Yellowstone Dwarf Village, where he hadn’t been to in a long while.
Which was probably why he found the dwarf elders running breathlessly toward him as soon as they spotted him.
"Great Sir! What brings you to this humble place?"
"Humble place? This is where the spirit of a master artisan lives."
Upon hearing such positive words from him, the dwarves seemed to be equally shy and proud at the same time.
Once consumed by obstinacy, the village had begun to change following the flash of creation, and a desire for change started to arise in the place that was once filled with pride. On top of that, the passion of the dwarves, who gained Davey’s knowledge and methods in a variety of sectors, was ignited, which then led to the further advancement of their village.
"But what brings you here, Great Sir?”
"It might be a bit of an uncomfortable request for the elders."
"Ha! Who do we have here? If the great master asks for something, what can't we do?!"
Davey smiled at the confident reply and then said, "I'd like to borrow the Great Furnace, if possible."
The dwarves' eyes widened. But it was only out of surprise, which didn’t really last longer than a second. In fact, they were quick to agree to Davey’s request.
"Sure! If not a great artisan like the great master, then who can use it?!"
"If we disturb the work of the great master, the god beneath the earth will be angry!"
Fearing Davey might change his mind at any moment, the dwarves quickly guided him and his companions, leading them to the central workshop, where the Great Furnace of the Yellowstone Tribe was.
"Will you use our tools in the workshop?"
"Oh, please use ours! I've been polishing and oiling them daily, thinking you might use them one day!"
Davey, who watched the dwarves bustling around, shook his head and said, "No. This time, I will work right in front of the Great Furnace."
The eyes of the dwarves grew big and wide, seemingly understanding the implication of Davey’s words.
"That... That means!"
"Could it be?!"
The dwarves continued to stare at him with wide eyes filled with shock as understanding of what Davey meant sank in their minds.
In the silent atmosphere where no one else could utter a single sound, he took out one of the materials of Goumda he had stored in his Pocket Plane before reaching out his hand to Illyna.
"Give it."
"..."
"Are you anxious?"
"That... That is...."
Caldeiras, made by the Thousand-day Blacksmith, Surtr, was essentially an ideal and perfect sword, even though Davey had seen Blue Ribbon and Red Ribbon and their might.
And while Illyna might have been thrilled at the idea of enhancing it, she seemed to have become a bit anxious as she was faced with the actual situation.
"I will tell you clearly. Caldeiras was originally made to fit the Sword Lord Ares, so it doesn't match you."
The blunt comment made Illyna to look puzzled. "What... What do you mean?"
"Explain it yourself."
Caldeiras, which was wrapped in cloth, seemed to respond by starting to hum in her hold. Then, as if touched by the will of Caldeiras, Illyna's eyes grew wide.
"Is that true?" Illyna murmured, seemingly understanding Caldeiras.
Woong!!
Caldeiras continued to emit a harmonious sound. After a while, Illyna seemed to have finished contemplating. She then carefully unwrapped the cloth and offered Davey the sword that was so white it gleamed with a silvery light.
"Caldeiras... Please take care."
When Davey took Caldeiras from her hands, he felt its will being conveyed to him.
[Please... Now that my master is Illyna, I want to become a sword that suits her.]
"Alright. I will refine you."
While Cat Tower and Maga refined tools with the use of their skills, Davey’s refinement was through a process that delved into the principles within. The penalty for failure was overwhelmingly high on his side, not to mention the difference in difficulty levels in refining Caldeiras.
However, unlike the skill that could only be crafted in predesigned ways, Davey’s skill was different.
Though it was a masterwork crafted by his teacher, Surtr once said to him:
[Caldeiras... is a perfect sword. Frankly speaking, there's no better sword that could be made for Ares. But do you know why I'm telling you this? That's because it was specifically for Ares. So if Caldeiras meets a new owner, its true essence won’t be revealed and will remain hidden.]
Caldeiras was a holy sword, and yet it seemed weaker than its past fame.
Why? Well, it was only natural. It was a sword initially made for Ares, and so there was no reason to consider another wielder. One good example was Blue Ribbon and Red Ribbon, which were tailored for Davey. If someone else became their master, the swords might not have the same powerful abilities as when Davey used them. And the exact same thing was true for Caldeiras.
And while refining it was necessary, Caldeiras was already a completed sword. And so recklessly tampering with it was not an option. A single mistake in handling his teacher's masterpiece could lead to the end. Which was why Davey slowly cleared his mind and took a short, steady breath.
It was true that this task from Surtr had been avoided and delayed under pretenses and excuses. Because there was no second chance if Davey failed. The outcome would be irreversible.
[Please.]
"Just pray."
With just a small moment of failure, a highly enhanced weapon would vanish.
[Uh... What's the success rate?]
"Um, roughly three percent?"
[What?! Hey, are you insane?! Let me go! I just want to go back!]
Despite Caldeiras' screams, Davey tightly grasped the sword with a sly smile. "Don't worry. If it fails, the worst thing that could happen is that it breaks.”
[You son of a...!!]
Ignoring the desperate screams, Davey extracted Caldeiras' consciousness. He then thrust the sword that was now an empty shell into the Great Furnace.
Davey clapped his hands together, applied heat distribution magic to the whole furnace, and simultaneously threw a giant spark into it.
Eighth Circle Prometheus of the Heat Wave
Boom!!!!!
The temperature, which was already over 3000 degrees, began to rise at an incredible speed. The mithril anvil in front of Davey started to glow red from the heat as the temperature continued to increase and intensify.
Meanwhile, the dwarves were simply left astonished as they watched the entire process.
"Ugh?! A heat wave?! How high is the temperature?!"
It was only when the frightened onlookers saw it for themselves that they were able to finally understand. If it wasn’t for the protective magic that was cast upon Davey and the entire workshop, each and every dwarf watching Davey would’ve been reduced to ashes in an instant.
However, Davey didn’t mind his audience that had become horrified. Instead, he focused as he waited and waited for the right temperature.
The furnace that was slowly heating up eventually surpassed a temperature of 5000 degrees, then 6000 degrees. It exceeded its limit, reaching a temperature at which all equipment would normally melt. However, Davey continued to apply heat distribution magic to the equipment while quickly pulling out the scorchingly red-hot Caldeiras.
[The moment you start hammering, the test begins. The moment you stop, your heart stops as well.]
[You followed me in your own way. Proceed in your own way. Perhaps even greater things may come.]
Think carefully. Act boldly.
Davey securely gripped the mithril hammer, which Elder Golgouda treasured dearly, and lifted it high into the air. Then...
Clang!!
The sound rang loud and clear in the workshop as bright sparks scattered in all directions.
Caldeiras being made specifically for Ares meant that it was not easy even for Davey to use in a different sense. Still, what he was doing wasn’t an impossible task.
‘Goddess Freyja. Don’t think that I'll become a priest that easily. For I still have no intention of dying just yet.’
His lips then stretched into a haughty smirk.
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