Max Level is 100? I Can Upgrade All skill s to Lv99999!-Chapter 146 --Don’t Worry, My Demands Are Modest!

Chapter 146: Chapter146-Don’t Worry, My Demands Are Modest!

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A look of surprise flashed across Caelan’s face.

"No, wait a minute," he muttered inwardly. "Master Ironhand... didn’t you say that you have principles that you must adhere to? That there are certain things you would never compromise on?"

Yet here he was, visibly shaken by something as minor as a single Mana Ore core.

Tsk tsk. Such wavering in your willpower and principles! Only a single Mana Ore core, and yet you falter so easily... If I were to give you a thousand of these, would you not leap for joy?

Despite the elation he felt inside, Caelan’s exterior remained remarkably composed. He masked his excitement behind an air of calm, carefully measured detachment.

"Very well, then," Caelan said smoothly. "In that case, Master Ironhand, perhaps you could outline your enhancement plan for us?"

Ironhand’s gaze, sharp and unwavering, never left the Mana Ore core resting in Caelan’s hand.

Unlike many other races—or even awakeners in general—the dwarves possessed an almost pathological obsession with Mana Ore. For them, this mineral was far more than a mere resource; it was a symbol of power, progress, and survival.

To put it bluntly, Mana Ore for the dwarves was the most critical resource in existence.

Their entire civilization’s growth, technological advancement, and military strength were underpinned by its availability.

It was said that dwarves would even risk all-out war over the ownership of a Mana Ore mine.

For other races, this might seem incomprehensible, even excessive, but for the dwarves, it was logic incarnate.

Mana Ore was their foundation, their lifeblood, the keystone of all achievement.

After a brief cough, Ironhand’s face settled into the distinctive expression of a master craftsman entering a state of absolute focus.

Once in this state, no distraction, no interruption, could divert his attention.

His mind became a singular instrument, attuned solely to the work at hand.

"My plan," Ironhand began, his voice calm yet commanding, "can be considered as one approach... or two. Essentially, the two are interchangeable, variations of a single principle. After carefully studying the form and construction of this sword, I have concluded that it possesses immense potential for modification."

"From what I can observe, the sword was not forged to perfection. The heat treatment, the tempering—it could have been more precise. However, the underlying theory applied to its creation is remarkably sound. Solid, foundational, and robust. If it pleases you, Master Caelan, perhaps we might strike a deal: allow me to enhance this weapon for you, at no cost, and in return, you would assist me in locating the original craftsman who forged it?"

Caelan blinked in astonishment at this proposal.

Could it be that Master Ironhand was interested in his own talent as a blacksmith?

Perhaps he had recognized Caelan’s latent skill, or maybe even his potential?

Alas, such a course of development was not feasible at the moment. Caelan’s priorities lay elsewhere, in realms beyond simple smithing or forging.

He shook his head with a sense of regret.

"I am truly sorry, Master Ironhand," Caelan said, his tone courteous but firm. "The blacksmith who originally created this longsword has already left human territories, venturing elsewhere in pursuit of rare materials. I fear locating him may be impossible."

Ironhand nodded softly, but the flicker of disappointment in his eyes betrayed him.

"That... is indeed regrettable," the dwarf admitted, his voice tinged with an almost imperceptible sadness. "But very well. Let us proceed, then, and discuss the enhancement plan itself."

"Here is my proposal," Ironhand continued, shifting fully into his work mindset. "We will take the sword’s current form and fundamentally reconstruct it. The objective is to forge it into a weapon capable of transforming into any form at will."

Caelan’s eyes widened in astonishment at this concept.

Then, slowly, a brilliant gleam began to ignite within them.

Indeed, Master Ironhand was a craftsman of the highest caliber among the dwarves.

His proposal was exquisite, elegant, and perfectly aligned with Caelan’s ambitions.

A single longsword capable of transforming into multiple weapon types?

With such versatility, Caelan realized, his mastery of swordsmanship alone could allow him to pierce through nearly any defense, overcome almost any adversary.

A thrill of anticipation surged through him, despite his efforts to remain composed.

Yet even as he contemplated this, he could not suppress a measure of curiosity: how exactly would Ironhand execute this ambitious plan?

Caelan had a rudimentary understanding of smithing: the more complex a weapon’s design, the more fragile it could become.

The forging of such a weapon would demand extraordinary skill, intricate understanding of metallurgy, and precise control over every stage of crafting.

For most, attempting such an endeavor would be nearly impossible. But Ironhand... perhaps he truly could achieve it.

Meanwhile, Ironhand himself froze momentarily after making the suggestion. Had he... perhaps overstepped?

If he remembered correctly, he was the one who would personally carry out the forging.

The thought of the labor involved made the dwarf’s complexion darken, almost blackening entirely like the bottom of a cauldron.

Damn it. He realized, perhaps too late, that he might have walked himself straight into a trap.

The plan, though conceptually flawless, would require him to expend near-unimaginable effort.

Yet across from him, Caelan was deep in thought, his brow furrowed slightly.

Transforming the sword into a multi-weapon form, though powerful, seemed... incomplete.

Something essential was missing, though he could not immediately place what it was.

After a few contemplative moments, a spark of insight seemed to strike him.

He opened his mouth to speak.

"Master Ironhand," Caelan began, "I have considered your proposal carefully. Your idea is exceptionally sound. Truly, it is brilliant. However, I feel that this alone does not fully demonstrate your extraordinary skill as a master craftsman."

Ironhand’s expression shifted dramatically, a wave of color draining from his face as realization hit him.

He was old—over two centuries—and experienced in countless schemes and intrigues.

Yet even he recognized the subtext immediately: Caelan was subtly requesting additional enhancements, essentially asking him to pour even greater effort into the work.

He wanted Ironhand’s labor without paying for the full extent of it.

The thought sent a shiver down the dwarf’s spine. His plan, already daunting, was about to become exponentially more challenging.

Caelan, meanwhile, had mentally charted the full scope of his desired modifications.

He understood fully that, should he attempt to forge the enhancements himself, it would take a decade, and perhaps even then, the results would fall far short of Ironhand’s masterful standards.

Recognizing this, Caelan’s demeanor softened.

He treated Ironhand with courtesy and respect, pouring a cup of hot tea for him as a gesture of goodwill.

"Master Ironhand, please, take a moment to rest," Caelan said warmly. "We can discuss the enhancement plan at a more leisurely pace."

The dwarf seated himself stiffly on the sofa, feeling a mixture of unease and apprehension.

Though he had weathered many storms in his long life, this sudden shift in treatment from the young Caelan unsettled him.

What, he wondered nervously, could this boy possibly have in mind for me?

A difficulty of unimaginable magnitude?

Caelan cleared his throat and continued. "Master Ironhand, allow me to outline my own thoughts. Please do not be alarmed; my demands are not particularly high, I assure you."

"First and foremost," he explained, "the foundation of the plan must be your earlier idea: the ability for the sword to change into multiple forms. This is critical, and I fully agree with it."

"However, I feel that this alone is insufficient. The sword must possess additional qualities. For a longsword, the most desirable attribute is, naturally, life-stealing capabilities. Oh, and it should also embody sharpness, precision... and perhaps a few other enhancements I have in mind."

"In short," Caelan concluded with a sly smile, "my requirements are actually quite modest. Transformative capability, combined with the addition of these attributes, should suffice. Nothing excessive, nothing beyond reason."

"Ironhand, truly, my requests are not high," Caelan added earnestly. "Please, do take care of yourself as well. Your health is important, and I would never wish to overburden you unnecessarily."