Chapter 176 Blaze Comet
Eric was suddenly halted, and he couldn't help but feel puzzled—could Wiseman possibly be about to bestow something valuable upon him?
'A gift, maybe? Some powerful artifact from the ruler of Silvervale City? The possibilities are endless,' he thought.
"Since you come bearing my friend's seal," Wiseman said, handing Eric a fiery red crystal and a sealed letter, "take these. Seek out Master Selura. She'll help you out."
"Thanks, Lord Wiseman," Eric replied, taking the items with a respectful nod. "I won't let you down."
System: [Unique quest "Heart of the Demons" accepted. Retrieve the heart of the demon from the Demonic Citadel and deliver it to Wiseman. Reward: Unknown.]
System: [Hidden quest "Find Selura" accepted. Locate Selura within Silvervale City and deliver Wiseman's item. Reward: Unknown.]
Two quests, both radiating an aura of significance, popped up in his log. Unique quests were especially prized for their exceptional rewards.
With his objectives clear, Eric didn't waste any time. He left City Hall, his mind already buzzing with plans, and hailed a carriage headed for the Silvervale City Free Zone.
Selura, the master blacksmith Wiseman had told him to find, was a name whispered in hushed tones among the city's elite. Few players knew she even existed, let alone where to find her. But just because she was obscure didn't mean she wasn't amazing. Selura was a prodigy, a master smith at an age when most were still apprentices, just a hair's breadth away from becoming a Grandmaster. Her low profile was a choice, not a necessity.
Eric, however, was in on this closely guarded secret. He knew about Selura's talents, and more importantly, he knew where to find her.
Wiseman's hidden quest, a challenge for most, was a piece of cake for him.
As for the "Heart of the Demons" unique quest, that would have to wait. He also had the Epic-level quest "Darkness Descends" to deal with. Sharon, the key to unraveling its mysteries, was in Silvervale City, but the info came at a price – ten gold coins, a sum Eric didn't have right now. Patience was a virtue. He had thirty days to complete the quest. Plenty of time to gather his strength and resources.
Twenty minutes later, the carriage dropped him off in front of a nondescript blacksmith's shop in the bustling Free Zone. The wooden door was shut tight, the shop seemingly closed for business. No customers lingered, no sparks flew from within. It was an image of utter inactivity.
Eric paid the carriage fare – a hefty sixty copper, thanks to the city's sprawling layout – and approached the shop. He knocked on the weathered wood, a sharp, insistent sound that echoed through the empty street.
Silence greeted him.
He waited, then knocked again, this time louder. Still, no response.
"Master Selura," he called out, his voice carrying across the quiet street. "It's me, with a message from Lord Wiseman. I have a letter for you."
He hated resorting to name-dropping, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Surely, even the reclusive Selura wouldn't ignore a summons from the city's ruler.
A moment passed, then another. Just as Eric began to doubt his intel, a sound came from within – the heavy thud of footsteps followed by the groan of ancient hinges. The door creaked open, revealing a woman framed against the flickering light of a forge.
She was dressed in form-fitting black leather, a stark contrast to the soot-stained aprons most blacksmiths wore. A plunging neckline revealed ample cleavage, while a pair of short shorts showcased long, toned legs. Her skin was tanned, her features striking, her dark hair cascading down her back in a thick, unruly mane. She was, in a word, breathtaking.
This was Master Blacksmith Selura.
If Tonny were here, he'd probably be whistling appreciatively, his eyes practically popping out of his head. But Eric was made of sterner stuff. He'd seen his fair share of beauties, both in-game and in real life.
Selura was a rare gem in the rough-and-tumble world of blacksmithing. Where others were burly and gruff, she was a vision of feminine grace and power.
"Busy," she said, her voice husky, her gaze sweeping over Eric with a hint of impatience. "Leave the item. You can go."
Her curtness brought a wry smile to Eric's lips. He'd said those very words countless times himself, his own gruff demeanor mirroring hers. It seemed even master artisans shared a common language.
"A letter from Lord Wiseman," Eric said, holding out the sealed envelope.
Selura snatched it from his grasp without a glance. "You're dismissed."
She moved to close the door, her body language screaming "conversation over."
Eric had anticipated her dismissive attitude. Master artisans were notorious for their eccentricities, and Selura was no exception. But he'd dealt with her kind before. He knew how to get what he wanted.
"Very well," he said, turning as if to leave. But instead of departing, he reached into his bag and retrieved the fiery red crystal, letting it dangle from his hand as he casually examined it.
The crystal pulsed with an inner light, bathing his hand in a crimson glow. Even from a distance, Eric could sense the potent fire energy emanating from it, drawing the ambient mana into a swirling vortex. It was a sight to behold, a siren song to anyone who understood the language of magic and craftsmanship.
"Wait!" Selura's voice, sharp and urgent, stopped him in his tracks.
He turned back, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Something else, Master Selura?"
Her eyes, usually cool and appraising, were now fixated on the crystal, her gaze tracing its every facet with an intensity that bordered on predatory. For all her gruffness, Selura was a blacksmith to her core. And no blacksmith, no matter how skilled or renowned, could resist the allure of rare and potent materials.
It was a weakness Eric intended to exploit.
Every blacksmith dreamed of crafting a legendary item, a weapon or armor piece that would echo through the annals of history. And such feats required extraordinary components, materials imbued with the very essence of power.
Eric's Demonic Weapon, the Abyssal Blade, was one such artifact. Forged by the legendary blacksmith Osiris using the fangs of the Black Dragon King, it was a weapon whispered about in hushed tones, a testament to the heights of craftsmanship.
What was the Black Dragon King?
A being of immense power, a destroyer of cities, a harbinger of chaos. To even lay hands on its fangs was a feat few could boast. And Osiris had used them to craft the Abyssal Blade, one of the thirty-six legendary weapons within Divine Realms: Legends, its power undimmed by the passage of time.
"That item," Selura said, her voice tight with barely suppressed desire. "Sell it to me."
Eric shook his head, his smile widening. "My apologies, Master Selura. Lord Wiseman entrusted me with this material. He requires your expertise to forge something... unique. But you seem... preoccupied. Perhaps I should seek out Master Prometheus instead. I'm sure he'd be happy to assist."
"Prometheus?" Selura scoffed, her composure cracking. "You'd entrust such a treasure to that old fool? He'd squander its potential, turn it into a glorified letter opener! Give it to me. I'll forge you something worthy. A Blaze Comet, perhaps? A weapon befitting a Swordsman of your caliber."
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