After I activated the card the old man had given me, I vanished in an instant and reappeared in an unfamiliar place. The surroundings resembled an old weapon shop—its structure broken and rundown, as if time had forgotten it.
"What a creepy place," I muttered under my breath.
Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through my head as something struck me from behind.
"Arghhh!"
"What's so creepy, brat?" a gruff voice growled. I spun around to find a dwarf standing before me. He was around five feet tall, with wild brown hair and a tangled beard that seemed as unruly as his appearance. His muscular frame was imposing, and in his hand was a hammer that looked as heavy as he was.
"Who are you, old man?" I asked, struggling to regain my composure, my head still pounding from the blow.
"Old man?" His eyes flashed with irritation as he raised the hammer, rotating it menacingly. "You just called me old?"
A chill ran down my spine, despite my resistance to fear. This was no ordinary dwarf.
"No, no, sir!" I stammered quickly, trying to defuse the tension. "I was just wondering where I am."
"This is my workshop," he said gruffly, crossing his arms and glaring at me.
"Your workshop?" I echoed, still trying to make sense of my surroundings.
"Yes, brat," he shot back, his voice thick with annoyance.
"But I came to find the best bladesmith! Why the hell am I here?" I pressed, frustration creeping into my voice.
The dwarf's grip on his hammer tightened, and his eyes narrowed dangerously. "Are you looking down on me, brat?" His voice was low, but it held a fierce pride. "There's no one better than me around here!"
"Then why is this place falling apart?" I shot back, my frustration building.
"I don't make weapons for just anyone," he retorted, his tone hardening. "Not everyone can afford my prices."
"How much are we talking?" I asked, still skeptical.
"I don't ask for money, brat," he replied, his tone unyielding.
"Then what the hell do you want?" I demanded, growing increasingly curious.
"Wine," he said simply, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
"Wine?" I blinked in confusion. "That's it?"
"Not just any wine, brat!" He scowled. "I want something that can get a dwarf drunk. None of that weak, tasteless human stuff. I want something with flavor—something that packs a punch!"
His eyes glinted with a touch of longing. "I'd give anything for some of that famous elf wine. They say it's the real deal."
"If I bring you that wine, will you enhance my weapon?" I asked, my hope flickering.
"Elf wine? From you, brat?" He scoffed, his tone dripping with disbelief. "Those pointy-eared elves would never share their precious wine with anyone unless you're their savior or some nonsense. Don't dream."
"So you don't trust me?" I raised an eyebrow before turning to leave. "Fine. I'll find it myself."
"Wait! Where are you going?" he called after me, his voice filled with urgency.
Once outside the shop, I activated my system. "Can I use my authority to create elf wine?"
[Host can create anything within reason. Are you sure you want to use CP for wine?]
"I have no choice. Create two small bottles of 100 ml elf wine," I commanded firmly.
[Creating two 100 ml elf wines using the Authority of Creation...]
[4000 CP has been deducted for this creation.]
[Two bottles of 100 ml elf wine have been added to your inventory.]
Feeling a surge of excitement, I made my way back to the dwarf's workshop.
When I re-entered, the dwarf eyed me suspiciously. "Where've you been, brat?"
"Look at this, old man." I opened one of the bottles of wine and held it out to him.
"Did you—" His eyes widened as the scent of the wine hit him. "This... This is elf wine! Where did you get this?" He lunged forward, eager to grab the bottle, but I quickly tucked it back into my inventory.
"Doesn't matter where it came from. I've got what you want, and you've got what I need. Let's strike a deal." I stared at him, my tone firm.
"You've got me, brat. Hah! Fine, what do you want?" he asked, a sly grin creeping across his face.
I explained about the crystal I'd found and showed him my sword. His expression shifted, genuine surprise flickering in his eyes as he studied the blade.
"If you hadn't come to me, no one would have been able to enhance such a fine weapon," he said, his voice filled with admiration. "This sword was made by a master—maybe even greater than me. Whoever crafted it knew what they were doing."
He looked at the crystal with awe. "This... this is remarkable. It can absorb all elements. A versatile tool for any blade. Your sword will be reborn into something entirely new."
"Are you sure you want to enhance it?" he asked, his gaze sharp as he scrutinized me.
"Yes," I said, determination clear in my voice. "I want to unlock its hidden potential."
"Very well." He nodded and took both the crystal and the sword, bringing them to his forge. The flames roared to life as he heated them, the rhythmic sound of his hammer striking the anvil filling the air. Hours passed as he worked, carefully melding the crystal with the blade.
As the two pieces began to take shape, he muttered words of concentration.
"Sword assimilation.
Crystal fusion.
Complete fusion."
A brilliant golden light erupted from his hands, and the sword began to transform, the process slow yet mesmerizing. He poured mana into the creation, the tension in the air palpable.
Exhausted, I drifted off to sleep without realizing it. When I awoke, several hours had passed.
The dwarf was grinning widely, standing proudly next to the now completed blade.
"So, what do you think?" he asked, his voice full of satisfaction.
I looked at the newly forged weapon in awe. "It's... incredible. This is a killer weapon," I said, my eyes wide with wonder as I examined the blade, now infused with the elemental power of the crystal.