The Return of the Limited-Time Sword Master

Chapter 107: Scene of Harmony (7)

‘I figured something like this might happen.’

Gut feelings aren’t always reliable, so Kurt Steinhoff had brushed him off. But now, facing Martin in the office, he couldn’t help but think his hunch had been right.

“Could you… repeat that one more time, young master?”

“There’s been a lot of that today.”

“I’m sure whoever else asked felt just as I do,” Kurt replied, unable to hide his surprise.

“Haha. Maybe they did. Anyway, as I mentioned before, I thought it would be great if we could establish trade with the elves and dwarves.”

“I remember.”

“Well, as a reward for successfully resolving things in Altair Village, I secured the rights to distribute goods crafted by elven and dwarven artisans. So, Kurt Steinhoff, I want you to take charge of opening the store, handling sales, everything.”

“You mean… you’re granting me full authority over this venture?”

Kurt’s expression shifted with a mix of surprise and excitement. In Cracian society, people of all ages were captivated by elves and dwarves—the elegance, magical talents, and unmatched craftsmanship that defined each race’s unique allure.

Since few ever got the chance to meet an elf or a dwarf, the mystique surrounding them had only deepened over time, spawning countless books and stories every year.

“I guarantee this business will generate vast wealth. It hasn’t been long since I took up my position as your secretary, young master, so overseeing such a large endeavor might be beyond me.”

“I’ve been told I don’t have a knack for lying—and neither do you. You’re more than ready for this, aren’t you?”

“Well….”

“Even if someone less capable were in charge, this business couldn’t help but succeed. And from what I know about you, you’re not someone who stops at mere success. You’re the kind of person who’ll think about how to make it even bigger.”

Martin’s encouraging smile left Kurt unable to deny it. He knew better than anyone the massive interest in elves and dwarves, ensuring the project’s success from the start. Besides, the products’ quality and performance were unmatched.

Elven magical weapons or dwarven armaments were on par with—if not superior to—those crafted by renowned human artisans.

Then there were the premium products like elven teas, herbs, fruit wines, and dwarven beers, not to mention refined metals, all carrying immense value.

‘Success is the bare minimum.’

Thoughts of maximizing profit and increasing value flooded his mind. Above all, he knew he had to ensure that people across the continent saw elven and dwarven products as exclusive to Varehein City and the Adalbert family.

“I told you when we first met that I didn’t intend to keep you as just a secretary. My aim has always been for you to quickly rack up achievements so you could handle bigger projects.”

“Is that really more like pushing off work than giving it?” Kurt teased, though he knew better.

“Delegating tasks to the person who does them best is efficiency, not laziness.”

“Alright then. I accept. I’ll take on this project as you ordered, young master.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“There is one issue, though.”

“You’re worried about clashing with the guilds in Varehein City, aren’t you?”

“Yes. Given the variety of products we’ll offer, we’re bound to run into conflict with certain guilds.”

The city was home to various guilds—blacksmiths, healers, and more—each well-established in North Cracian. With their existing dominance, they’d naturally resist competition from elven and dwarven goods.

“That’s not something you need to worry about. We’re not planning on flooding the market.”

“Then… will it be set up as an auction system?”

“No, nothing that drastic—though some rare items may be handled that way. We’ll sell the rest as regular products. You can determine the prices, but I want a portion of the sales to go to the guilds as a ‘guild fee.’”

“So you want to make the elven and dwarven artisans, in effect, honorary guild members?”

“Exactly. Now that we have this opportunity, I want to bring them fully under our sphere. Connecting through economic ties is the best way.”

“I agree. I’ll make sure this endeavor succeeds.”

“Then I’m counting on you.”

“Yes, sir.”

Determined, Kurt felt the weight of his responsibility—and the excitement that came with it.

This was his first opportunity to take the reins of a major project, and he intended to prove Martin’s trust in him well-placed.

‘Looks like it’s time to call in a few friends.’

It wouldn’t do for him to take this on alone. He’d find a way to put his idle but capable contacts to work, squeezing every bit of talent from them.

* * *

The rumor spread like wildfire in Varehein City: elven and dwarven weapons were going to be sold.

Only a week after Martin’s return, news of the impending store launch had captivated the entire city.

“You know those two shops being set up in the city center? They’re saying they’re gonna sell elven and dwarven weapons there.”

“Yeah, I saw them setting up. But is the rumor even true? Up until now, anything elven or dwarven came from slaves, right? There was hardly enough to fill a store, let alone enough to open one. I mean, come on….”

“Well, Adalbert’s men have been flocking to those spots, and the White Dragon and Gold Dragon Knights are standing guard outside. It’s hardly likely they’d go to all this trouble for just some regular store.”

“Hmm… you’ve got a point.”

Items crafted by the two races were usually only found through underground deals. But for the first time in continental history, it seemed they would be sold openly. As a dungeon city, Varehein’s adventurers had every reason to take interest.

“I still think it’s too good to be true. Nobody’s seen an actual elf or dwarf, so if this were real, wouldn’t they need elves and dwarves there to prove it? That’s the only way people would really believe it.”

“Yeah, that makes sense. But the grand opening isn’t far off—we’ll find out soon enough. I really hope it’s true.”

“If it is, I’ll buy something no matter the cost.”

“Oh, with what money?”

“Come on! I’ve been saving for ages!”

“And I’m telling you, that won’t be enough.”

The two adventurers—one red-haired and one dark-haired—bickered back and forth, raising their voices as they went.

“I think I’ve heard enough,” Martin said, chuckling.

Although he and his companions had concealed their faces with robes, they’d been listening nearby.

Armand and Paolo, especially, had taken extra care to disguise themselves. Paolo had even donned height-enhancing shoes.

“It’s clear now just how much interest humans have in us,” Armand remarked with amusement.

“Let’s be precise—they’re interested in what we make, not in us as a people,” Paolo retorted.

“Whether it’s the people or the products, most humans are quite favorable toward you,” Martin interjected, a reassuring smile on his face. “This is a good chance to gradually integrate yourselves into mainstream society. It might not happen quickly, but that’s alright.”

Both Armand and Paolo nodded in agreement at Martin’s words.

Since beginning their stay at the Adalbert Estate, they had learned much about the Altaria Empire.

And it didn’t take long for them to realize that Martin’s warnings were true.

If the Empire’s four major powers clashed, war would ravage not only humankind. The elves and dwarves knew they needed to experience human society firsthand if they wanted to avoid being swept up and wiped out by humanity’s wars. With this first step in mind, they had arrived at the Varehein City branch of the Adventurer’s Guild, at the dungeon entrance.

“Young Master.”

“Ah, introductions. This is Armand, the elder of Altair Village,” Martin said, gesturing to his left.

“Pleased to meet you. I apologize for not fully revealing myself due to the nature of the place,” Armand replied.

“N-No problem at all, sir.”

“And I am Paolo, the elder of Ranens Village. Please take care of my people well.”

“I-I’ll do my utmost, sir,” the branch leader, Beyren, replied, doing his best to maintain composure as he greeted each elder in turn.

When the introductions ended, Martin addressed the group.

“Well then, shall we head down?”

“Yes, sir.”

Martin led the way down into the dungeon, with Armand and Paolo following carefully. Before long, they reached the first floor.

“So this is a dungeon….”

“It’s been 1,000 years.”

The two elders, representing the elves and dwarves, looked around the dungeon with complex expressions.

It had been a millennium since they had been pushed to the continent’s fringes by humanity, and their people had been denied entry to dungeons by countless human kingdoms ever since.

They could only be stirred by finally stepping foot in a place that had been forbidden for so long.

“What are your impressions of the dungeon, gentlemen?” Martin asked.

“It’s completely different from the monster outposts on the surface,” Armand observed.

“Agreed,” said Paolo. “A place like this, where pure murderous intent floods the air… we’ll need to make sure our people are well-prepared before we send them here.”

“Wise thinking, Elder Paolo. The dungeon is a place of mystery. Humans have been challenging it for a thousand years, yet we still have no idea of its true depth. Even on floors we’ve previously conquered, strange, unexpected things often happen.”

Paolo nodded, taking Martin’s advice seriously, and Armand also gave a nod of understanding. When the conversation paused, Beyren stepped forward, holding a transparent artifact shaped like a regular dodecahedron—the mana measurement crystal.

“Typically, an adventurer’s rank is determined by both their personal abilities and their achievements as an adventurer. However, since the young master has assured us of your future accomplishments, we can skip the achievements requirement.”

“I’m curious about how you’ll measure skill.”

“The goblins will soon swarm this area. Attack them with full power. This artifact will gauge your mana output and the strength of your attacks. If your ability is equivalent to an eighth circle, the artifact will display an S rank—awarded only to those of eighth-circle power.”

Satisfied with Beyren’s answer, Armand remained silent, while Paolo stepped forward with a question of his own.

“While mana levels do generally correlate with circle rank, it isn’t absolute. It varies per individual, as we can see with the young master here. Plus, combat styles differ between mages and knights. Are you certain that’s enough to measure skill?”

“The artifact contains information gathered from hundreds of years of adventurers’ data. It determines rank based on extensive calculations, so there’s no need for concern,” Beyren explained.

“Hmph, impressive,” Paolo muttered, finally appeased.

Beyren, sensing the time was right, asked, “Who would like to go first?”

“I will,” said Armand, gripping his staff tightly as he moved forward to face the entrance.

The goblins soon began charging toward him, dozens of them swarming with rapid strides.

Though their small frames looked unimpressive, the murderous intent burning in their eyes was unmistakable.

“Kiieeek!”

“Kraaah!”

Undeterred, Armand summoned his mana. From the four rings around his heart and the four in his mind, a massive surge of mana poured forth, channeled into his staff.

Brilliant blue light began to coalesce and form a large magic circle on the ground.

“A magic circle of this scale…,” Beyren murmured, awestruck. He had sensed that Armand was powerful, but witnessing it firsthand was another experience altogether.

With a gentle tap, the end of Armand’s staff connected with the magic circle on the ground, releasing a violent torrent of blue lightning that swept through the oncoming goblins.

Crack! Sizzle!

Explosions followed each lightning strike, instantly reducing the goblins to cinders with such intensity that they didn’t even have time to scream.

The blue lightning tore through the dungeon, carving a deep trench into the ground, as if it had plowed an entirely new path.

“What’s the result?”

“It’s… S-rank,” Beyren stammered.

“Well, at least I met expectations,” Armand replied with a slight smile.

Just then, excited voices erupted behind them.

“It’s an elf! A real elf!”

“And there’s a dwarf too!”

Martin turned to find the red-haired and dark-haired adventurers they’d overheard earlier, staring at Armand and Paolo with amazement.

Thanks to the powerful display of magic, Armand’s and Paolo’s robes had slipped enough to reveal their faces, allowing the adventurers to recognize them instantly.

‘Perfect,’ Martin thought, satisfied. There were now witnesses who would spread the word that the rumors were true.

Anyone who’d doubted would soon believe, and Martin could almost hear the sound of money flooding in.