Cyan, after another year of relentless effort, had finally built up enough mana to use advanced magic.
Cyan Von Velton (Lv.11) —
HP: 8120
DEF: 400
SPD: 6
…
Mana: 425.5
Cyan let out a quiet sigh.
"At this rate… I'll lose a hundred mana within a day. Guess it's time to visit the blacksmith."
— The scene shifted to a wooden house.
Escorted by four guards, Cyan stepped inside without hesitation.
The flickering light of the forge cast a figure against the wall.
"That shadow… seems smaller than I expected."
He moved closer, and a rather unusual figure came into view.
"Oh? You must be the Third Young Master. I've heard about you."
The man had a thick brown beard, a short frame, and a body packed with muscle.
A dwarf… So it's true—most master blacksmiths are dwarves. First time seeing one in person.
What a strange man…
"You know who I am?" Cyan asked.
"Of course I do. You're from the main family," the dwarf replied quickly.
"What's your name?"
"Baron. Baron Ironvein, Young Master."
"I need your help. Do you have any adamantite?"
"Haha… something that rare wouldn't end up in a place like this."
"Then where can I find it?"
The dwarf chuckled.
"And how exactly does a child plan to get his hands on something like that?"
Cyan narrowed his eyes slightly.
No manners at all…
"If not, I do have something else—Aetherium ore. It's incredibly light, quite durable, and conducts electricity well."
"Not bad," Cyan muttered. "I can study its structure—make my body lighter, more efficient…"
Still, his gaze sharpened.
But that's not enough.
I need something near-perfect—extreme hardness, almost zero resistance. Only then can I refine my body at the atomic level.
He reached out and touched the pale blue ore.
In an instant, he absorbed its structural properties.
Even so, a hint of disappointment crossed his face.
"Noticing this, Baron spoke again.
"Actually… we used to get small amounts of adamantite from time to time. But about two years ago, something changed."
"Explain."
"The mine—Thunder Ruins—became unstable."
"In what way?"
"There are all kinds of abnormalities. The weather's the worst—constant lightning strikes. And there's some kind of large-scale gravity field pressing down on everything. Even magic barely holds together there."
Growing more animated, Baron rummaged through a cabinet, pulled out a map, and pointed at a location.
"Here. I've investigated it myself, but I still can't figure it out. Even Lord Konan went there."
Even the Lightning King couldn't solve it… interesting.
"But don't worry, Young Master," Baron added. "I heard Lady Elysia in the capital is about to break through to the Lightning Emperor level. She'll become the third in the family. Maybe she'll find a way."
"What about my father and eldest brother?"
"You didn't know? The Patriarch and the Eldest Young Master are in the imperial capital, maintaining the family's authority."
So that's how it is…
Konan is the strongest here—and the busiest. Failing to resolve the ruins must have hit his pride… and cut off the adamantite supply.
No wonder he reacted like that earlier… all because I touched a display item.
Noticing Cyan's expression, the old blacksmith quickly spoke up.
"To make it up to you, Young Master, I have something I'd like to give you personally."
He rummaged again and brought out a shimmering blue-white vial.
"This is a mana recovery potion for Magic Kings—Blood Elixir."
Cyan glanced at it, then replied flatly:
"You do realize I'm only a high-tier mage, right? How exactly am I supposed to survive drinking that?"
"Ah—right… you're only six," Baron scratched his head awkwardly. "You remind me of Lady Elysia back when she was about ten—she was already close to reaching Magic King level. She gave me this."
"And why would she give you something like that?"
"Haha… don't underestimate me. I may not be a fighter, but forging requires a fair amount of mana. Not to brag, but I've got reserves comparable to an Emperor-tier mage."
"You sound very proud of that."
"Haha… maybe a little. Still, I've kept this as a memento all this time. But now… I'd rather give it to you."
Cyan didn't hesitate.
"There's no reason to refuse."
He accepted the vial, said his farewells, and returned to the manor.
By then, his mind was already racing with calculations—and plans beginning to take shape.