Solron paused for a second and then burst into laughter, much to Cecil and Alexander’s shock.
"HAHAHA! Good answer, brat. Good answer."
His laughter slowly died down, and his gaze shifted sharply toward Alexander.
"Now then."
Alexander imdiately straightened as Solron pointed at him.
"I expect proper compensation from the crown."
Alexander nodded without hesitation.
"Of course. Father will be inford personally. I expect that you will be compensated for your troubles soon enough."
"Properly," Solron repeated, narrowing his eyes.
Alexander nodded again.
"Properly."
"Hmph."
Only then did Solron look satisfied.
Still, Alexander’s gaze drifted back toward Kurogoroshi, and for a mont, his expression turned thoughtful.
"Uncle Solron," he began carefully, "if you managed to craft a Mythical Grade weapon... does that an you’ve beco a Fifth Grade Crafter?"
The room quieted slightly. Even Cecil looked toward the old man, looking forward to his answer.
Solron did not answer imdiately. He looked at the sheathed sword resting near Elion instead, and for the first ti since he had stepped into the room, that smug, boisterous expression on his face softened. In the end, he snorted lightly.
"I wish."
Alexander blinked.
"You haven’t?"
"I touched the edge of that elusive realm," Solron said, his voice quieter now. "For a mont. A single mont."
His fingers tapped lightly against the table.
"But touching the gate and stepping through it are two very different things. That sword was not born from skill alone. It was born from luck, obsession, good materials, the right fragnt, and a madman foolish enough to pour everything into it."
Elion looked at him silently.
Solron grinned faintly.
"I am still a long way from truly being called a Fifth Grade Crafter. But I am closer than I was before."
There was pride in his voice, not arrogance.
"And for that, I’m thankful."
He scratched his wild beard and looked away as if suddenly embarrassed by his own sincerity.
"Maybe in a few more decades, if my old bones don’t betray first, I might finally call myself one."
Alexander lowered his gaze slightly, looking genuinely thoughtful. Cecil’s expression softened as well, though she said nothing.
Elion looked down at the sword at his side.
Even after creating sothing like this, Solron still did not consider himself to have truly reached the next grade.
That alone told him just how monstrous the crafting profession had beco at the highest levels.
"Well then!"
Solron suddenly clapped his hands loudly, shattering the mood before it could beco too emotional, though as he had said, the fragnt’s lingering power probably did most of the work for him.
"You brats got what you ca here to milk from , didn’t you?"
Alexander sighed.
"Uncle Solron..."
"Don’t uncle ." Solron waved him off. "Take your shiny toys and get out. It’s late, I’m tired, Cecil is tired, and if you stay here any longer, you might start asking for more things."
Elion smiled faintly.
"I wouldn’t dare."
"You absolutely would," Solron said without hesitation.
Elion said nothing. Honestly, the old man was not entirely wrong; he was certainly shaless enough to do so if given the opportunity.
Cecil let out a quiet sigh and gestured for them to follow.
"Co on. I’ll escort you out before he gets more dramatic."
"More dramatic?" Solron scoffed behind them. "Girl, I am the picture of restraint."
Cecil ignored him.
Alexander carried the armour set carefully, while Elion kept Kurogoroshi close at his side, one hand resting lightly on the scabbard as though afraid it might vanish if he stopped touching it for too long.
As they walked away, Solron remained standing in the gallery, watching them go.
For once, the wild old craftsman was quiet.
His gaze lingered on Elion’s back, on the sword at his waist, and on the strange sense of inevitability that seed to follow the young man like a shadow.
A small smile ford on Solron’s lips.
"I sll a legend in the making," he murmured softly.
Then he yawned loudly, ruining the atmosphere all by himself.
"Bah... I need so sleep today."
And with that, muttering to no one but himself, Solron turned and shuffled back toward the depths of his workshop.
Cecil banged the door shut in Elion and Alexander’s faces, earning a quiet chuckle from Elion. On their way back to the castle, Elion finally rembered that he had a storage function.
He put away both the armour and the sword, Kurogoroshi far more reluctantly. He wanted to keep it strapped to his waist and flaunt it.
Well, not really. Besides, he still needed a proper belt or sash to hold the sheath in place.
Alexander didn’t seem too surprised by Elion’s apparent possession of a dinsional storage item, though he did seem more curious about the fact that he couldn’t tell where on Elion’s person the item was hidden.
Afterward, they both stopped for a mont and looked down at the city below. The festival was still in full swing despite the late hour. Though the court itself was quiet, the sa could not be said for Haven.
The city glowed vibrantly beneath the night sky, filled with floating lanterns, music, distant laughter, and the shifting movent of countless people still celebrating.
For a brief mont, the two watched as a colourful shower of explosive spells burst high above the city, painting the sky in brilliant flashes of light.
Only after that did they continue heading back. Before they separated, Alexander slowed his steps and looked toward Elion.
"We leave tomorrow morning," he said.
Elion raised a brow. "That soon?"
Alexander nodded. "Well, I see no reason to wait; the others are probably waiting for us to start. I still need to inform my retainers and prepare the escort, but everything should be ready before sunrise."
Elion slipped his hands into his pockets. "Right, you did say no teleportation this ti?"
"No," Alexander said. "We’ll be travelling by flying mounts. There are checkpoints along the road to the Great Forest that I need to inspect personally, and a few commanders I have to speak with on the way."
Elion nodded lightly.
"We should be there soon," Alexander replied. "Unless sothing unexpected happens."
"Sothing unexpected always happens," Elion said flatly.
Alexander looked at him for a mont, then sighed. "Please don’t say things like that."
Elion chuckled. "Fine. Then let’s hope the road is boring."
"For once," Alexander muttered, "I would love nothing more."
He turned slightly, then paused again.
"Get so rest tonight, Elion," he said, his tone a little more serious. "Once we leave Haven, things may not slow down again for a while."
Elion gave him a small nod. "You too, prince. You still look like you’re one bad training session away from collapsing."
Alexander’s face darkened. "Whose fault is that?"
Elion smiled. "Yours, obviously. Your stamina is terrible."
Alexander opened his mouth, then closed it again, clearly deciding not to argue.
"...Goodnight, Elion."
"Goodnight, Alexander."
The prince walked away with a tired sigh, and Elion watched him go for a mont before turning toward his own room.
Back in his room, Elion plopped onto the bed, feeling a deep sense of satisfaction settle over him.
He took out the sword again. It humd faintly, as if acknowledging his presence.
Elion’s grin widened.
For the next thirty minutes or so... Perhaps even an hour, who knew? he inspected every inch of it. He traced the scabbard, studied the hilt, stared at the faint crimson patterns shifting beneath the surface, and slowly drew the blade halfway out just to watch that warped tallic darkness catch the light again.
He was completely engrossed. Only after he was finally satisfied did he reluctantly put the sword away.
’Aren’t I a bit too lucky?’ he thought quietly as he laughed sheepishly.
It took quite a bit of effort for him to calm himself down, but even then, the grin on his face refused to fade.
There was only one proper way to end a day with such a great harvest.
’Ti to level up.’
Elion thought happily as he called out his system panel.
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