Chapter 417

Chapter 417: The Heaviest Sword

"The heaviest sword."

Midi’s voice wasn’t loud, but the layout of the sprawling "Dragon Spear" weapon shop carried his words clearly to everyone nearby. The shop was designed to let staff hear customers easily.

The Wolfspider tribe members showed no reaction. Having seen Midi leap up and kill a half-giant, they found nothing odd about his request. Many even shuddered imagining the already brutal Midi wielding an even deadlier greatsword. To them, he wasn’t just a warrior—he was a humanoid magical beast crashing through everything.

But to outsiders, Midi’s demand seemed arrogant. The heaviest sword? From this round-eared guy who looked half the size of a half-giant? Unrestrained laughter broke out among the crowd.

Midi ignored the mockery. He wasn’t here to argue or show off—just to buy a sword. As long as no one provoked him, a few laughs meant nothing. Galantis, however, instantly scowled, ready to lash out.

Before the Black Dragon Priestess could act, a smooth voice interrupted. “Miss Galantis of the Wolfspider tribe! What an honor to have you grace our humble shop!”

The speaker was a stout gray dwarf. Unlike his crude kin, his eyes gleamed with cunning, and his sharply tailored outfit outshone even Sherlock’s style. Clearly, he managed the "Dragon Spear."

The flattery from Mososbury City’s top weapon shop’s owner soothed Galantis’s temper. Seizing the moment, the gray dwarf stroked his neatly trimmed beard and bowed theatrically. “How may Fortlin serve you?”

“My companion needs a good sword!” Galantis grumbled, gesturing at Midi. Oddly, she avoided meeting his gaze.

“A human!” Fortlin exclaimed, eyeing Midi with exaggerated surprise. Yet Midi noticed no real shock in the dwarf’s expression. As the shop’s master, Fortlin had surely observed everything since their arrival but chose to appear only when tensions rose—skillfully earning Galantis’s favor while avoiding conflict.

*A true merchant*, Midi thought. *Better watch my coin purse.*

“Midi Asreks. Wolfspider Champion.” He nodded lightly at the dwarf.

This time, Fortlin’s surprise was genuine. Though the Wolfspider tribe wasn’t among the powerful factions, their battle strength was formidable. A human—blind in darkness—earning the title of Wolfspider Champion? It defied expectations, and Fortlin’s demeanor turned cautious.

“So, Mr. Midi… you want the heaviest sword?” Fortlin tested.

"Exactly." Midi nodded.

Fortlin asked no further questions and snapped his fingers. Two clerks hurried over, removing the heaviest two-handed greatsword on display and carrying it before Midi.

"Please." Fortlin gestured politely.

Though courteous, Midi sensed the gray dwarf’s intention to test him.

On the surface world of Arad, merchants cared only about gold. So long as one had coin, any purchase—even a decorative greatsword—was acceptable.

But here in the Shaded Realm, strength mattered more than black gold coins.

To make this gray dwarf produce truly fine weapons, Midi would need to show off a little.

Midi gripped the sword’s hilt with his right hand.

Under the mocking gazes of onlookers, he lifted the two-man heavy blade one-handed like a common stick.

He swung it—not a proper slash, but a careless flick like swatting a fly.

The broad blade whipped up a roaring gale through the shop.

Wind tore through the chamber, whipping Galantis’ hair, tugging the dwarf’s beard, and rattling weapon racks as if an invisible beast rampaged.

When the gusts subsided, everyone’s hair stood altered.

Mockery died. The "Dragon Spear" weapon shop fell silent.

"Too light." Midi’s calm voice broke the stillness. He shook his head and tossed the greatsword back.

The clerks lunged desperately but failed to catch it. The gray dwarf suddenly moved, darting forward with unexpected speed to snatch the falling blade.

"Apologies. It felt light, so I let go." Midi said mildly.

"Mr. Midi, you must warn us next time!" Fortlin wiped cold sweat, forcing a smile.

The dwarf recognized the display of power. No wise merchant in Mososbury City’s best armory would antagonize a man who wielded greatswords like twigs.

"Any heavier blades?" Midi asked pointedly.

Established shops never displayed their best wares openly. These showroom weapons sufficed for common customers—but Midi had proven himself.

As expected, Fortlin nodded to an elder clerk. "Please follow me upstairs."

"Wait! I’m coming too." Galantis declared.

"We’d also see these famed collections," added Zaknavan and Mason, weapon-seekers unwilling to miss this chance.

"Wolfspider tribe warriors are most welcome." Fortlin agreed instantly.

Guarded by numerous sentries, the group ascended to the second floor.

The space matched the first floor’s size but boasted richer decor.

Weapons here weren’t mass-produced factory goods. Each type had but one or two specimens, labeled simply with their makers’ names.

The names meant nothing to Midi or Galantis, but Sherlock, Zaknavan and Mason’s awed expressions revealed these artisans’ renown.

"Mososbury’s reputation holds true," Zaknavan murmured. "Compared to City of Fierce Wind’s best armory, these masterworks outshine them in both quality and variety."

"Even the firearms section offers multiple choices. This trip was worthwhile," admitted usually critical Mason.

Sherlock stood transfixed before several weapons. "Master Hopkins’ work… Never thought I’d see this." Ignoring "Do Not Touch" signs, the old alchemist reached out reverently.

Midi watched wryly. Names mattered little to him—only a weapon’s feel and quality counted.

Fortlin presented three greatswords without delay:

One pitch-black steel blade, monstrously heavy.

Another etched with magic runes to unleash sword energy when swung.

A third containing a magic core to boost wielder’s speed, compensating for greatswords’ sluggishness.

Each could elevate any warrior’s prowess. Yet when tested…

Still light.

This was inevitable.

In Shaded Realm, two-handed greatsword users were mainly dark elves and Lizardmen—neither known for overwhelming strength. Half-giants preferred hammers and axes.

Thus no smith would forge blades exceeding Lizardmen warriors’ limits. Alchemists might enhance sharpness or magic, but weight had natural constraints.

Even these masterworks felt feather-light to Midi.