The atmosphere in Khan's smithy had shifted from the frantic, clanging heat of mass production to a heavy, contemplative silence.
The fires in the secondary hearths had been banked, leaving the forge in a state of amber twilight.
Grid sat on a low wooden stool, his head buried in his hands, his shoulders shaking with a rhythmic, low-frequency tremor that usually preceded a volcanic eruption of temper.
He had just heard the news from Khan. The old master, usually so careful with his words, had let slip a detail that had set Grid's world on fire.
"He found it... at the Loran Waterfalls?" Grid's voice was a low, dangerous growl that vibrated through the floorboards.
"Arthur found the mural of Pagma's Swordsmanship? And he didn't tell me? He let me sit here, hammering iron like a common laborer, while he was out there staring at the secrets of my class?"
Khan, who was busy oiling a new pair of bellows, looked up with a sympathetic wince. He knew the volatile nature of the young man before him.
"Grid, it wasn't a matter of deception. As Pagma's Successor, I have to check first your claim before giving you the location of the murals. Arthur got that news from my ancestors. Then he went there and he found a stone mural hidden behind the veil of the falls—a series of movements etched into the very heart of the mountain by my ancestor, Albatino. I only told you now because I am certain of you are Pagma's Successor."
Grid stood up abruptly, his eyes burning with a toxic mixture of desperation and envy. "I'm Pagma's 'Real' Successor! I'm level 45! I'm still using basic sword strikes like a beginner, while Pagma's 'Apprentice' is dancing around with the Pagma's own sword arts! I'm going there. Right now. I'll walk through those falls if I have to break the mountain itself!"
"You'll die before you reach the waterfalls," a calm, chilling voice cut through the air.
Arthur stepped into the forge from the rear living quarters. His red eyes reflected the low glow of the furnace, steady and analytical. He didn't look like a man who had just stolen a secret; he looked like a man who had already calculated the outcome of the conversation.
"The Loran Waterfalls are situated deep within a Level 180 zone Kesan Canyon, Grid." Arthur said, leaning against a soot-stained pillar.
"The monsters there don't just bite; they delete health bars. Even with the joint efforts of Alfia, Meteria, Nana, and Cecil, I barely survived that canyon. I didn't even attempt the Pagma's Swordsmanship quest until I hit Level 150. At your level, a stray shot from canyon spider would send you back to the respawn point."
Grid slumped back onto his stool, the infamous "tears of agony" threatening to make another appearance. The crushing weight of the level gap was a recurring theme in his life, a wall he constantly ran into head-first.
"So what? I just sit here and rot? I'm the Legend! I'm the one who's supposed to be dancing with Pagma's Swordsmanship!"
Arthur watched Grid's dramatic despair with a faint, calculated glint in his eyes. He knew exactly which buttons to press. "I didn't say it was impossible. I only said it was dangerous for someone who can be seen. There is a way to bypass the Level 180 monsters, but it requires something special we currently lack."
Grid looked up, a spark of hope flickering in his eyes. "What? Gold? I have gold now! I'll pay whatever it costs!"
"Not gold," Arthur replied, his tone shifting into that of a master strategist. "Invisibility. Or more accurately, light-refraction. I have a cache of Sylphid Scales—rare, translucent materials dropped by high-tier wind elementals. They possess the inherent property of bending light to the point of total transparency. However..." Arthur paused, letting out a long, theatrical sigh.
"I am merely an Apprentice, not a Successor. My creation skills are limited, and I have already exhausted my singular custom blueprint skill. Without a designated blueprint to harness the scales' elemental properties, they are just expensive drop items. A waste of potential."
Grid's back straightened. His chest puffed out as he realized where this was going. This was his territory. This was the one area where he held absolute sovereignty over Arthur.
"A blueprint?" Grid let out a boastful, manic laugh that bordered on the hysterical. "You're talking to the man who designed Failure! I can create a blueprint for a rag that would make a king weep in envy! If I make the blueprint, do I get the materials?"
"If you provide the blueprint," Arthur said, his voice remaining perfectly neutral, "I will provide you with the Sylphid Scales. It's a fair exchange. You get the means to reach the waterfalls safely, and I get a high-tier design for the smithy's archives. A win-win deal."
Grid didn't hesitate. In his mind, the 180 levels of monsters stood between him and his destiny, and Arthur had just handed him a ladder.
He ignored the "limited use" warning that flashed in his mind. He ignored the fact that he only had two creation slots left in his legendary repertoire. The lure of the swordsmanship—the power to finally act like a true Legend—was an addiction he couldn't resist.
"Legendary Blacksmith's Creation!"
[Legendary Blacksmith's Creation Skill]
[Number of items that can be created at present: 2/3.]
[What item do you want to create?]
"A cloak," Grid answered firmly.
[What materials would you like to use?]
"Sylphid Scales."
He braced himself for a system rejection. He expected the game to tell him that a blacksmith couldn't work with delicate, ethereal scales. But the system remained silent. Pagma was a legend of all crafts; his successor was not bound by the arbitrary definitions of "tailor" or "armorer." To a Legend, everything was just material to be bent to their will.
[Please design the item.]
A blank, holographic blueprint appeared before Grid. He closed his eyes, his mind racing. He didn't want a traditional cloak—the kind that flapped around and got caught in doorframes during a fight. He wanted something modern. Something that signaled his status as an elite player.
'I don't like a simple cloak,' Grid thought, his finger beginning to trace sharp, aggressive lines in the air. 'Hoods are necessary for stealth, but capes are too clunky. What if... what if it was a hoodie? A zip-up? Something streamlined and comfortable for the long trek to the falls.'
The hologram began to take shape under his touch. A sleek, white hooded zip-up emerged. It looked less like medieval fantasy gear and more like high-end tech-wear from a designer shop in Seoul.
He infused the design with the aerodynamic properties of the Sylphid Scales, focusing on minimizing wind resistance to boost movement speed.
[Item Design: Hooded Zip-Up]
Rating: Unique (Growth)
Durability: 61/61 | Defense: 10
* Movement Speed: +30%
* Wind Resistance: +20%
Description: A garment designed by a Legendary Blacksmith. Thanks to the integration of Sylphid Scales, affinity with wind and speed is vastly increased. The wearer can enter a state of 'Refractive Stealth' while the hood is up, though stealth is deactivated upon attacking.
Condition of Use: None.
Weight: 5
"Done!" Grid shouted, wiping beads of sweat from his forehead. "Look at this, Arthur! It's a masterpiece! It's stylish! It's invisible! It's... a hoodie!"
Arthur took the holographic blueprint from Grid's trembling, excited hands. He examined the stats, his face remaining a mask of calm appreciation, though internally, he was reeling from the sheer absurdity of the situation.
'He actually did it,' Arthur thought, his mind working through the implications. 'He wasted a Legendary Creation slot—one of the most powerful limited resources in the game—on a piece of clothing just because he was impatient. And the stats... a 30% speed boost with no level requirement? This is a world-breaking item for any low-level player.'
Arthur reached into his inventory and pulled out a shimmering pouch containing twenty translucent scales that seemed to vibrate with their own internal light. "As promised. Twenty Sylphid Scales and a blueprint fee in gold. A fair trade, Grid."
"Fair?" Grid hugged the scales to his chest, his eyes shining with pure, unadulterated greed. "This is the deal of the century! I'm going to make this hoodie, and then I'm going to learn Pagma's Swordsmanship, and then I'll be the one everyone fears!"
Grid skipped away toward his anvil, already mumbling about "becoming a Ranker" and "crushing the Tzedakah Guild."
Arthur watched him go, then quietly tucked the blueprint into his own blacksmith's Journal. He had successfully manipulated the Legendary Blacksmith into using a world-changing skill to solve a temporary, personal hurdle.
[The Blueprint: Hooded Zip-Up] was now in Arthur's possession. He had essentially purchased a piece of legendary blueprint for the price of some raw materials.
While Grid focused on the immediate power-up, Arthur was thinking about the long-term production value of a "Unique" rank garment with no level requirements.
"A win-win for sure," Arthur whispered to the empty forge. "But I susppose it was a bigger win for me."
For the next few hours, the smithy was filled with a strange, high-pitched ringing sound. Grid wasn't just smithing; he was tailoring with a hammer.
He used the heat of the forge to soften the Sylphid scales until they were as pliable as silk, then fused them together using a secret technique of Pagma's that involved "Cold-Hammering" the material itself will stabilize after processing.
Alfia and Meteria watched from the doorway, fascinated by the bizarre sight.
"Is he... sewing with a hammer?" Meteria asked, her eyes wide as she watched Grid strike a delicate scale with enough force to shatter a normal rock, yet the scale merely merged with its neighbor.
"He's a Legend," Alfia replied, a hint of a smile on her lips. "Logic and common sense don't apply to him when he thinks there's a profit—or a power-up—at the end of it. He is fusing the scales by utilizing the kinetic heat generated when the edges of the scales are compressed between the anvil and the hammer."
As the moon reached its zenith, a shimmering, white garment sat upon the cooling rack.
Grid picked it up, his breath hitching. As soon as he pulled the zipper shut and flipped the hood, he vanished. Not just a blur, but total, absolute transparency.
"I'm invisible!" Grid's voice drifted from the empty space where he had just been standing.
"Arthur! I'm a ghost! Hahaha! Those Level 180 monsters won't see a thing! I'll walk right past them and take what's mine!"
"Then get some rest, 'Ghost,'" Arthur called out, heading toward his own room. "We leave for the Kesan Canyon at dawn. It's a long journey, and invisibility doesn't stop you from falling off a cliff."
"I know, I know!"
"And Grid?"
"Yeah?"
"Don't lose the hoodie," Arthur added, a touch of wit in his voice. "If you take it off and drop it, we'll never find it again."
The invisible space went silent. Grid was suddenly seen clutching his chest, as he realized the terrifying truth of Arthur's words. The thought of losing an item made of Sylphid Scales was a horror more potent than any monster in Satisfy.
"I'm keeping it on!" Grid shouted. "I'm never taking it off!"
Arthur smiled to himself as he closed his door. The stage was set. The apprentice and the successor were finally heading toward the legacy of their master.