Chapter 174 Obsidian Pact
The second Eric set foot in Silvervale City, a wave of panic hit the Silvercrest Dominion. Major guilds, suddenly feeling the heat, scrambled to get their members grinding like crazy, all aiming to reach the city first.
But things didn't go as planned. The rush of players into high-level monster zones sparked fierce competition and guild clashes. Resources started drying up, and a new headache popped up: weapon durability.
"Where the hell are those Whetstones of Precision? Our elite group's weapons are about to fall apart!" Thornheart's voice crackled with frustration over the team channel.
"The blacksmiths said a new batch is on the way," a Ranger replied, sounding uneasy.
"How many?" Thornheart asked, feeling a knot of worry in his stomach.
"Five sets... of one hundred each," the Ranger mumbled, bracing for Thornheart's reaction.
"One hundred? We bought over five hundred sturdy stones!" Thornheart's voice went up a notch, his frustration clear. Their elite group, with over sixty members, was burning through durability fast in the Level 10 monster zone. Each Whetstone of Precision only restored 3 to 7 points. One hundred wouldn't last an hour.
"Those five hundred stones are gone. We're trying to buy more, but they're sold out everywhere. Players are trading every sturdy stone they find directly to blacksmiths for Whetstones. We've sent everyone we can to Dark Moon Valley to farm, but since the system upgrade, the drop rate has tanked."
"And the ten blacksmiths we've been training... they're still just novice apprentices. Their success rate for crafting Whetstones is terrible. If only we had an intermediate apprentice, we wouldn't be wasting so many precious stones. But blacksmithing levels up so slowly, and they're still a long way off."
The Ranger's explanation was met with heavy silence. Their guild had focused on blacksmiths and alchemists from the start, pouring resources into their training. But progress was painfully slow.
Thornheart, feeling more and more defeated, realized how valuable skilled artisans really were. They had seen the need coming, invested early, but hadn't expected how tough it would be to master the craft. If only they had one intermediate apprentice, they wouldn't be in this mess.
"I get it. Tell the elite group to go easy on their weapons. Minimize contact, stretch out their durability as much as possible. And double down on gathering those sturdy stones," Thornheart said, his voice heavy with resignation.
A simple Whetstone of Precision had brought the once-mighty Assassin's Alliance, a top-tier second-rate guild, to its knees. It wasn't about money, but supply. Thornheart would've paid ten silver per set, but there were none to be found.
They weren't alone. Across Eldoria, guilds were feeling the squeeze. But nowhere was it worse than in Silvercrest Dominion, where the race to Silvervale City was at a fever pitch. Weapon durability was a ticking time bomb. Without weapons, they were sitting ducks. And despite their size and influence, these guilds couldn't solve the problem. Skilled blacksmiths were in short supply.
Every high-level monster zone was now packed with players, each guild fighting for limited resources. Small-town guilds had thirty-man elite teams. In Silvervale City, third-tier guilds had five to six hundred elites, second-tier guilds over a thousand, and the top-tier guilds, a staggering three to four thousand. Add in the countless free players, and the demand for Whetstones of Precision in Silvercrest Dominion hit a breaking point.
Sturdy stones, once ignored, were now worth their weight in gold, with prices shooting up to a crazy 1 silver and 20 copper per set. And still, you couldn't find them anywhere.
Meanwhile, inside the grand halls of Silvervale City's City Hall, Eric was waiting.
Thirty minutes had gone by, and still, no word.
He used the time wisely, piecing together everything he knew about Silvervale City. This info, gathered through sharp observation and analysis, was pure gold for guilds still clueless about the city.
He split the info into two versions: a basic one and a deluxe one. The basic version gave a general overview of the city, pointing out key features like the tri-annual grand market but leaving out detailed resource locations. The deluxe version, though, was a goldmine of insider knowledge, detailing prime leveling spots for each profession, hidden resource nodes, and other valuable insights – exactly what the big guilds were dying to get their hands on.
At first, Eric thought about selling the info privately, squeezing every gold coin he could from desperate guild leaders. But time was ticking. What he needed now wasn't gold, but credit points. After some thought, he decided to use the official forum, offering the basic version to everyone for 300 credit points – a steal for a comprehensive city guide – and the deluxe version to guilds for a hefty 20,000 credit points.
Sure, guilds would eventually figure this stuff out on their own, but it would take time – time they didn't have. Eric figured it would take them two to three days, and even then, their info wouldn't be as accurate or detailed. For guilds fighting for dominance, those days were crucial, making 20,000 credit points a small price to pay.
"Mr. Demonbane," a sweet voice broke his thoughts. A beautiful staff member stood before him, her posture perfect. "Governor Lord Wiseman is ready to see you in the reception room. Please follow me."
"Lead the way," Eric said, getting up. He followed her to the second floor, his curiosity growing.
The reception room was big and fancy, decorated with fine furnishings. By the window, looking out at the city, stood a distinguished man in his fifties, wearing a silver-gray robe. A deep blue gem staff rested in his hand, radiating power.
This was Governor Wiseman of Silvervale City, a Level 200 fourth-tier Archmage, one of the most powerful figures in the city. Even just standing there, his power was obvious. Eric could feel the magical energies in the room swirling around him, drawn to his presence, creating a faint but noticeable pressure field.
This wasn't a show of force, just a side effect of his immense power. This was the scary reality of facing a fourth-tier powerhouse. If Wiseman unleashed even a bit of his true power, Eric wouldn't stand a chance.
Despite looking young, Wiseman was over a century old, a true testament to the life-extending properties of magic.
"Young man," Wiseman greeted, turning to face Eric, a knowing smile on his lips. "I hear you have a letter of introduction from Blackbeard?"
The title of Demonbane, while intimidating to regular NPCs, didn't mean much to someone like Wiseman. A fourth-tier profession commanded respect that even the scariest title couldn't match.
"Indeed," Eric confirmed, handing over the letter. "Mayor Blackbeard asked me to deliver it."
Wiseman took the envelope but didn't open it. Instead, he sighed heavily, his eyes fixed on Eric. "What was destined has finally arrived. I have been waiting for this letter for thirty years, though I never expected it would be delivered by someone as young as you. Now, it is time for me to fulfill the contract I made all those years ago."
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