"I'm so pissed!
I'll teach him a lesson!
He pointed a dagger at me and knocked me out!
Hmph! "
As soon as Sylvia returned home, she complained to the butler angrily. After changing her gray cloak and putting on a white silk dress, Sylvia looked like a fresh flower with a kind of cold and unapproachable temperament. But because of the cute and innocent expression that she inadvertently revealed, people couldn't help but love her.
"Elder Wendell already has a problem with your mischievous behavior. Miss, why don't you let the guards escort you this time?
Let me cancel the mission from the Mercenary Union! "
The grey-haired old butler was an old man of the Wendell family. He had worked hard for the family for nearly 300 years, which meant that he had watched Sylvia grow up day by day.
However, in recent years, the little girl, who had just become an adult, had read a bunch of messy knight novels. Every day, she made a fuss about finding a dragon's den to slay dragons, riding a horse to be a cavalry, and later, she even wanted to give up archery and learn two-handed swordsmanship from a teacher. Anyway, she regarded herself as a famous knight in the Third Dynasty.
In view of this, Elder Wendell, one of the Elven Council Elders, who was Sylvia's helpless father, sent a letter to ask Sylvia to prepare to go to the Royal City of Darthill to accept the grade 7 trial mission. If she completed it, Sylvia would become the youngest high-grade ranger in the past 500 years, which was a great honor for the family.
Of course, the evaluation of rank was actually just a standardized evaluation by the Mercenary Union. It was used to measure whether a mercenary had the strength to accept a suitable mission. At the same time, it was also an important standard for each country to assign positions and combat units. However, rank didn't mean everything. It could be measured through the completion of assessment missions and tests, but it didn't mean that a high-grade professional could definitely defeat a low-grade professional.
For example, a grade 5 elemental magician could easily defeat a grade 5 berserker, but a grade 5 assassin could reap the life of a fragile magician at any time.
Nothing is absolute.
Sylner was now at the peak of Grade Six, so Elder Wendell couldn't wait to let his daughter, who was always indulging in flights of fancy, see the world, and not foolishly believe in the plots of third-rate knight novels all day long. Shooting a dragon with a rain of arrows?
Which idiot wrote this?
You might not even be able to penetrate the dragon's armor even if you were standing under its feet. The person who wrote this kind of thing was really a disaster for thousands of years!
Of course, looking at the current situation, his silly daughter would basically disappoint him. Sylvia still stubbornly believed that bows and arrows could kill giant dragons.
When the butler proposed to send guards to escort her to Dashiell, the adventurous Sylvia righteously refused the butler's request. Instead, she went to the Mercenary Union alone to issue a high-paying mission, asking for 15 mercenaries above grade four. Then, she spent the next few days immersed in fantasy, imagining how she would talk cordially with these "brave and fearless" mercenaries in novels, sharing honor and disgrace together. In fact, if there weren't so many things like this, she would definitely believe that mercenaries were as brave and fearless as the legends said!
Of course, the relatively ruthless attack indirectly and coincidentally proved that the strength of mercenaries was indeed "unfathomable."
A scout who could sneak up on a grade six ranger was actually said to not know how to sneak. How unbelievable!
Although she hated the bastard who slit her neck, Sylvia was more curious. She was curious how this powerful guy could let those people ridicule him wantonly and not fight back.
The sad Sylvia didn't know that she would soon meet this incredible mercenary again.
After having a hearty meal of roasted venison with Norda, the two of them parted ways at the entrance of the Mercenary Guild. Norda prepared to return to his room in the bar for a good rest. It was already close to midnight, and it was clearly not a good idea to stay on the streets. Meanwhile, Norda returned to the wooden house that his family had lived in for generations to prepare for the upcoming mission.
Many of the rooms were on the third floor of the Tree Vine Bar, which were basically the rooms of the regular customers. Holding onto the stairs that were wrapped in green vines, Many twisted the locks and entered their rooms.
It was midnight, and the faint moonlight in the room reflected the various items that were placed neatly in the room. Many lit a few candles and sat in front of their own desks.
There were only a few very simple pieces of furniture in the room: a single wooden bed, a wide wooden desk, a simple clothes rack, and a few cabinets filled with miscellaneous items. Everywhere was filled with exquisite elven workmanship. Next to the desk was a four-tiered wooden bookshelf. The exquisite wood carvings were vivid and lifelike, depicting the allusions of the elves. The shelf was filled with many books bought from the Violet Bookstore.
On the desk was a stack of densely written blueprints. If one looked closely, one could see that it was the blueprint of a rifle. There were many inexplicable patterns and circles mixed on the materials. On the desk was another elven language book, "Beginner Magic Circle Tutorial", and a book full of notes, "Elemental Mysteries – How to Become a Magician", which explained these strange patterns.
There were many kinds of magicians on the continent, and they were collectively known as spellcasters. They were a mysterious existence to ordinary people, but in the eyes of mercenaries, they were a group of arrogant and conceited fellows. To become a spellcaster, one needed a high degree of compatibility between the body and the elements. Obviously, this was the biggest obstacle to the scarcity of magicians.
Many people did not think that they would become the legendary magicians, but the elements were not only used by magicians. After reading a lot of books, many people finally found out that alchemy, which covered many aspects of the academic field, did not require the learner to have a high degree of compatibility with the elements. Therefore, many people chose to learn magic circle, which was one of the many branches of alchemy. However, it was obviously a difficult subject, and not much easier than the old pedants who locked themselves in the laboratory all day long.
After more than half a year of learning, many people could already independently draw a few simple magic circles. However, because the medium of the magic circle was usually the "raw stone" with a high magic conductivity, which was not cheap, many people did not have many practical uses. Most of the time, they would just draw on the bluestones outside the inn.
Of course, many people were more ambitious than that. The design drawings with the miniature magic circles on the gun body were the ideal "weapons of mass destruction". However, due to the harsh conditions, no one knew when they would be able to make them.
The material of the gun body had to have a high magic conductivity, high strength, and a certain degree of plasticity. Many of these conditions could only be met with Mithril, but with their current salary, they could only buy about five ounces of Mithril in three years, which was half of the gun body. From this, it could be seen that the "weapons of mass destruction" plan had been put on hold.
After silently drawing the dozens of magic circles that he had learned and memorized, Many hastily washed up, put the dagger under his pillow, and went to sleep peacefully.
The morning breeze blew into the house with the fragrance of grass. Many's biological clock, which was as accurate as an alarm clock, woke him up on time. The mission would start tomorrow, and today, Many was going to go to the blacksmith Durhara to change the crossbow's string with a higher strength.
A powerful crossbow, in the hands of Many who had been a sniper, was as powerful as a sniper rifle. In this era of cold weapons, Many's ability to snipe targets from a distance was far ahead of anyone in the current era.
A set of high strength crossbow had a great impact on the crossbow's shooting range and power. However, modifying it required the help of experienced people. Elven blacksmiths were completely different from ordinary human blacksmiths. They would not forge weapons like double-edged battle axes and the like, but when it came to the bow that their race was most proficient in, they were good at it. Every professional blacksmith was a good archer. Because of the power of a profession, wooden bows and simple iron bows could no longer meet the requirements of a high level profession for shooting range and power. Therefore, the elven blacksmiths researched the alloy —
Metal bows with high toughness and light weight were an important factor in the Elven Empire's ability to maintain a vast territory in the continent where warlords fought for hegemony. Many current crossbow bolts had a maximum shooting range of around two hundred meters, but their power would decrease after a hundred meters. This was also a regret in many people's hearts. This professional, who used to be a sniper, often stared at his huge crossbow in a daze. He missed his sniper rifle that could kill enemies from eight hundred meters away.
First, he dragged the half-asleep Noda, who was still muttering the ingredients of some paralyzing poison. It seemed like he was researching some new poison last night. This guy was much more sinister than others. He could be said to be a master in making poisons, traps, and mechanisms. However, the role of a "master" today was to display the skill that the noisy human women were best at — bargaining.
Durhara was a famous blacksmith in Karo City and several nearby towns. The balance and sharpness of his work could be said to be first-rate. Most importantly, his artistic treatment of the details caused many weapons to be fought over at auctions in the Empire of Saint Reims, selling for sky-high prices.
Of course, this kind of situation rarely happened nowadays. Misers never exported their works to the humans. He wasn't willing to trust the cunning humans.
Many of the crossbows were forged by Durhara using the blueprints and materials provided by Durhara himself. This also caused many people to not be able to eat Old Barton's roasted venison for two months in a row. Now, many people had learned to be smart. They asked Noda, the wily old fox from Karo City, to put in a good word for them. No matter what, it should be cheaper, right?
He dragged Noda to the "Chimera Treehouse Tavern" to buy a bottle of fifteen-year-old "Loffitte" wine. Standing in front of the blacksmith's shop, many people who usually wore cold expressions were now full of apprehension.
They knocked on the door of the miser's shop. Durhara's dark blue short hair with natural curls and stubborn old face appeared in front of them.
"Dewell, long time no see. Come, come, this is the aged Roffitt from the year 2985 of the New Calendar. I need your help with something today." Naturally, Norda would not put on a sleepy expression at this moment. Instead, he showed his true colors of an old fox.
The elves had always been straightforward and said whatever they wanted.
"Loffitte wine from 1985?"
Durhara glanced at the exquisitely carved oak wine bottle and couldn't help but lick his thin lips. "Come in."
After saying that, he turned around and walked into the shop. This made many people secretly complain: This guy is really famous for being a drunkard. He's easy to talk to when he has good wine!
As they thought of this, they secretly bled in their hearts. That bottle of wine was worth the salary of three missions!
It was easy to negotiate, but that was only for the elves. Many of the crossbows were handed over to Norda, who was chattering away with Duerhara, while the elves themselves stood off to the side as if they didn't exist.
Of course, Durhara knew who the owner of the crossbow was, but he still looked indifferent.
Noda didn't mind. This old thing had always been like this. He pulled Durhara to the side with a face full of scoundrels and started to negotiate. He spoke quickly in the elven language. Durhara's face was gloomy, and his bright eyes kept glancing at the wine bottle. After some discussion, he finally nodded and took the crossbow. He turned around and went into the smelting workshop at the back.
"It's done?" Many people really f * cking regretted that they didn't ask Noda to come along when they gave him the blueprint.
"The old drunkard said, two gold coins."
Noda had a signature smugness on his face. That ruffian aura didn't seem like something an elf could do. He almost took out a toothpick to pick his teeth.
"What the hell … alright, I'll just take it as feeding the dogs …" Many hearts were bleeding — but Tonoda's fortune should be at least fifty percent off. Although their hearts were bleeding, it was still better than having their hearts bleed profusely.
Many unwillingly took out the gold coins that he just took out from his personal vault. The thorny patterns on the gold coins were so beautiful, and the side profile of the Elven Queen was so mesmerizing. But all these thoughts were quickly forgotten. Noda snatched the coins, squinted his eyes, and said smugly in a low voice, "You'll pay for the wine at the Tree Vine tonight. I'll have to pay for my hard work too."
When the last word lingered in the air, Norda's comedy turned into a tragedy, and he was directly punched into a chair by many people. However, Norda understood that many people had agreed to it. He held his head and hummed a tune. Many people lowered their heads and began to dejectedly calculate which wine would be the most economical to buy …
It wasn't until evening, when the afterglow of the setting sun shone on the street and cast a long and narrow shadow of the trees on the street. Durhara appeared in front of the two drunkards with a crossbow. Many, who obviously had no sense of presence, continued to be ignored. Durhara directly threw the crossbow into Noda's hand, took two gold coins, and coaxed the two out of the shop while swaying unsteadily.
"This old ghost is truly a glutton for wine. Who knows if he drank the wine after finishing the work, or if he changed the string after drinking the wine?" Noda kept turning his head back to look at the closed door of the blacksmith's shop.
"I don't think so. After all, we all have our own professional ethics."
Many carefully observed the crossbow in his hand. After testing it a few times, he could clearly feel that he couldn't pull the string even if he held it flat. Given Many's current strength, this was simply unbelievable.
However, the specific attack power of the crossbow could not be evaluated at the moment. The attack power of a crossbow was on a completely different level compared to ordinary crossbows and bows. Many understood the principle of keeping a low profile more than anyone else. He was also afraid of attracting too much attention. Of course, he had to treat Noda to the wine at night. Many were dejected as they were dragged into the Tree Vine Bar by Noda. Looking at Paul's uncontrollable smile, Many couldn't help but curse themselves for not being careful in making friends.
Damn it, what a depressing day!