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Ch. 160 A Blade Forged by Many

  Chapter 160 – A Blade Forged by Many

  Ivaline and Seraphine returned to the western district, where the elven community resided.

  They headed straight to the first shop they had visited—the boutique owned by Seraphine’s closest friend.

  Arielle Fenwyn.

  Seraphine best friend Arielle

  They explained everything.

  The condition.

  The restriction.

  And the possibility of being separated if the requirement could not be fulfilled by tomorrow morning.

  “Aija… this is too sudden,” Arielle groaned, clutching her head. “We do have an elven smith capable of crafting a magic weapon—but by tomorrow morning? That’s borderline impossible.”

  “But what about the Baron?” Arielle frowned. “He’s usually reasonable. Why would he push something like this?”

  Seraphine lowered her eyes.

  “…I think he’s trying to protect my husband in his own way.”

  “By separating husband and wife? Foolish, if you ask me.”

  Arielle snapped her fingers.

  Vines burst from the corners of her shop, slithering along beams and walls, extending into the street. Their tips curled into cup-shaped blossoms.

  Voices echoed through them.

  “What is it, Arielle?”

  “Are we hosting something?”

  “Did something happen?”

  “We have a situation,” Arielle said bluntly. “And we need help.”

  She summarized everything.

  The elven network responded immediately. Many remembered the polite half-elf couple who had introduced themselves the previous day.

  Warmth spread.

  Willingness.

  But also the same obstacle.

  Time.

  “If we had a magic weapon in stock, we could consider selling it…”

  “We’re sold out. Adventurers bought everything when the war decree was announced.”

  “Crafting from scratch is impossible.”

  “We lack ingredients.”

  “Time as well.”

  “If we at least had magic ore…”

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  “Or mana dust.”

  “Even human and dwarf smiths are out of supply.”

  Debate surged like a tide.

  Ivaline watched quietly, feeling strangely warm. They weren’t dismissing her.

  They were trying.

  Until someone suddenly said—

  “Wait. The Baron said she doesn’t meet standard, right? That doesn’t necessarily mean crafting a new weapon. What if we enhance what she already has?”

  “…Ah!”

  The network shifted instantly.

  Hope sparked.

  “We could upgrade her current sword.”

  “Yes—but we’d need magic ore to coat it.”

  “And mana dust to reinforce the conduit lines.”

  “Otherwise normal steel would snap from magical strain.”

  Ivaline tilted her head.

  Too many unfamiliar words.

  Chronicle remained uncertain as well.

  So she asked.

  “Seraphine. What is magic ore? And mana dust?”

  Seraphine blinked, then nodded.

  “Magic ore is a special metal that allows mana to flow through it. It’s used for crafting magic weapons and artifacts. Mithril, adamantine, orichalcum, star metal—those are famous examples.”

  Ivaline nodded slowly.

  “Mana dust,” Seraphine continued, “is residue left after processing magic ore or crystals. It’s mixed into special compounds to draw magic circles or reinforce weapons so they can conduct mana more safely.”

  Understanding settled faintly.

  Then—

  The vines trembled with excitement.

  “I found a traveling merchant with a fragment of magic ore! Only about thumb-sized—but enough for coating!”

  “Perfect!” Arielle clapped. “We don’t need to forge a new blade. We coat her sword with a thin layer of magic steel and trim it with mana dust mixture. It’ll become a makeshift magic weapon.”

  “Good. Then she can channel magic.”

  “…Um.”

  Ivaline slowly raised her hand.

  “I cannot use magic.”

  Silence.

  “…What?”

  “No way.”

  Elves were born with magic affinity. Even children could cast simple elemental spells.

  But Ivaline—

  Half-elf.

  Untrained.

  Untaught.

  “What now?” someone muttered.

  Seraphine fell silent.

  Then she gently pulled Arielle aside.

  “Arielle… look at this.”

  She revealed the dwarf-forged bracelets crafted by Harlund—the paired runes that linked their conditions together.

  “That’s exquisite craftsmanship,” Arielle whispered. “What about it?”

  Seraphine leaned close and explained.

  Arielle’s eyes widened.

  “That would solve it—but are you sure? It puts you at risk.”

  “What risk?”

  Ivaline had appeared behind them.

  Deadpan.

  Silent.

  Listening.

  Arielle sighed.

  “If we bind the sword to your bracelet using a blood contract, your sword could draw magic from Seraphine instead of you.”

  Ivaline blinked.

  “…Explain the risk.”

  “One,” Arielle said calmly, “it consumes more mana than normal because it’s drawing from an external source.”

  “Two, the farther apart you are, the greater the drain.”

  “Three, it is forced consumption. If you activate the blade, Seraphine cannot refuse. If you overuse it, you could exhaust her beyond recovery.”

  “Then we won’t do it.”

  Ivaline answered immediately.

  “I will not endanger my wife.”

  Seraphine’s eyes softened.

  “You wouldn’t abuse it,” she said gently. “And I’m not fragile. I can sustain flight magic for hours. I carry mana potions. And above all… I trust you.”

  “I would never harm you.”

  “Then my life is not at risk.”

  Ivaline frowned faintly.

  “…Promise you’ll tell me if I’m overusing it.”

  “I promise.”

  “I love you, Seraphine.”

  “I love you too.”

  They embraced.

  Cough.

  Ahem.

  The vines had crept closer.

  The entire elven network had heard everything.

  “So devoted.”

  “Such a lovely pair.”

  “Little Ivaline, don’t overuse it, hm?”

  “…I won’t.”

  Arielle clapped sharply.

  “Then it’s settled! Grind unused artifacts into mana dust. Melt the magic ore fragment. Coat the blade. Trim conduit lines. Prepare the shaman for blood pact binding. Move!”

  The elven district erupted into motion.

  Old rings were surrendered.

  Heirloom fragments offered.

  Forge fires roared.

  The shaman was informed.

  The sword would not be perfect.

  But it would be enough.

  And it would carry more than magic.

  It would carry trust.

  Back at the Baron’s Manor

  Selene returned in full combat attire.

  “You gave her an impossible task,” she said flatly. “Then secretly supplied magic ore.”

  Edrien sipped his tea.

  “The task was impossible under current conditions. I merely ensured the test was survivable.”

  “You’re rather soft for someone claiming to judge exceptional talent.”

  “Same as the woman who tried to pull guild reserves to assist her.”

  “…Ugh!”

  Selene stiffened.

  He smiled faintly.

  “If she succeeds, it will not be because I protected her.”

  “It will be because she gathered allies.”

  Selene turned sharply away before he could see her expression soften.

  “Just make sure she survives.”

  “That,” Edrien replied quietly, “is the one thing I cannot guarantee.”

  “Oh? From someone who secretly protect his daughter to be, I’m not buying it.”

  “Right back at her mother to be, you can void your order to sold your guild magic ore and mana dust, I’ve already covered to our daughter.”

  “…..”

  Selene stormed out in silent.

  Tasted her second defeat in a short span of time.

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