Reborn As a Pirate - Chapter 147

Chapter 147: Great Sword·True Red Crown Horn
In the dimly lit chamber, Ryan treaded softly across the cold stone floor, his steps echoing quietly as he approached the towering weapon rack. His eyes lingered on each weapon before settling on a greatsword that seemed to pulse with a dormant power.

With a reverent hand, he caressed the blade, feeling the coarse, uneven texture of what once was a magnificent unicorn Dragon’s horn. Each groove and ridge, echoing the clashing of steel and the cries of warriors.

“I’ll call you ‘True Red Crowned Horn,'” Ryan murmured, his voice a soft blend of awe and resolve.

The sword’s lore was displayed on a glowing panel in front of him, capturing his attention:

—

[Great Sword·True Red Crown Horn]: A man-made marvel of intermediate rarity, crafted from the formidable True Red Horn of an Upper Unicorn Dragon. Enhanced with an amalgam of precious materials and forged to the exacting standards of the giants, this sword boasts a formidable heft and a blade thick enough to challenge the might of ordinary men, who could scarcely lift it, let alone wield it in battle. Stripped of enchantments, the blade’s sheer sharpness and physical destructiveness are its sole boons, leaving it a pure instrument of war.

This artifact carries a ‘relatively weak’ spiritual essence, a significant improvement from lower-tier items, enhancing the repair capabilities of the [Nameless Ship Sculpture] upon absorption.

—

“An intermediate level rare item!” Ryan gasped, his eyes wide with wonder. This was his inaugural encounter with an item of such distinct caliber, unadorned by magic yet devastating in its simplicity.

More impressive still was the evolution noted in the item’s description, from the ‘weak’ spiritual essence of lower artifacts to the ‘relatively weak’ of this mid-tier marvel. Though uncertain of the exact difference, Ryan sensed the gap was substantial.

“How do you feel about it?” The voice broke through his thoughts. Master Golden Hammer stood beside him, a proud smile tugging at his beard. “This greatsword is one of my finest creations in recent years. Forged to giant standards, yet its weight is monstrous. Even giants themselves would strain under its mass. Do you want to try…?”

He trailed off, his warning interrupted by Ryan’s effortless lifting of the greatsword from its stand. The weapon’s massive frame belied the ease with which Ryan maneuvered it, as if the young man harbored the strength of the mythical beasts from which it was crafted.

“…Good boy!” Master Golden Hammer exclaimed, both startled and impressed. He watched as Ryan turned, his expression questioning.

“It’s truly suited for someone of your stature to wield such a blade!”

“Very well, if the weapon meets your expectations, we shall consider our business concluded,” Master Golden Hammer added, his voice a mix of admiration and finality. “Now, if you’ll excuse yourself, young warrior.”

Ryan nodded, the greatsword in hand feeling like an extension of his own resolve, ready to carve his fate with the ‘True Red Crowned Horn’.

Master Golden Hammer’s voice rang with a rare generosity as he stood by the gleaming greatsword. “I am very happy to forge this great sword, Ryan. As such, I’ll waive the forging fee.”

“Wait!” Ryan called out just as Master Golden Hammer was about to turn and leave the smithy. His voice held a note of urgency. “Master, I have another request for your skilled hands.”

Master Golden Hammer turned, one eyebrow arched in intrigue. “Oh? Do you have new materials for me to work with?”

Ryan rubbed the back of his neck, his smile sheepish. “Well, I don’t have anything quite as exotic as the True Red Unicorn Dragon’s horn, but there’s still a bounty of materials from the same beast. I’d like you to craft a set of protective gear from what remains. For payment,” he gestured to his space ring, which flashed and revealed two distinct piles of materials.

The first pile shimmered with the remnants of the unicorn dragon’s bones and scales gleaming under the forge’s light. The second was a collection from a mud dragon, less lustrous but intriguing nonetheless.

Pointing to the dragon materials, Ryan continued, “These might not match the unicorn dragon’s grandeur, but I believe they still hold some novelty.”

Master Golden Hammer’s gaze shifted between the materials, his interest visibly piqued by the challenge. “Very interesting indeed,” he muttered, inspecting the mud dragon’s offerings. “We have a deal.”

Ryan’s relief was palpable. “Regarding the armor, my only request is that it doesn’t hinder movement too much”. He wanted something similar to the [Umbrella Fire Scale Armor Set] he used against the male fire dragon leader.

“A sensible requirement,” the master blacksmith nodded, his mind already racing with possibilities. “I accept your voucher as before, but crafting this will take some time. Come back tomorrow at this hour; I’ll make an exception and work through the night for you.”

Ryan bowed slightly, his gratitude sincere. “Thank you for accommodating me.”

Master Golden Hammer waved him off, already collecting the materials. “Alright, off with you now. Don’t waste my time, I’m eager to start on these.”

With a smile, Ryan secured the [Great Sword·True Red Crown Horn] within his space ring and exited the Golden Hammer Blacksmith Shop.

—

As he stepped out into the quiet streets of Santos, the moon cast a serene glow over the cobblestones. The hustle of the day had died down, with only a few shops still lit and bustling at this late hour. Alone with his thoughts, Ryan strode briskly, his mind on the adventures that awaited him past midnight, ready to test the mettle of his new armor and sword.

Ryan’s thoughts were consumed with vengeance against the [Upper] Blood Claw Dragon that had shattered his body, his resolve as hardened as the new blade he now carried. Yet, as he approached the north gate of the city of Santos, a sudden, unexpected voice echoed in his mind, halting him in his tracks.

The voice emerged not from a nearby presence, but through the mystical [Overturned Mask No. 7], a device known for its cryptic communications.

“No. 5 Cyan River: Emergency help! I’ve stumbled upon critical information regarding an dungeon labyrinth. I am currently pursued by several black-robed figures of unknown origin. Their strength appears to be third level. (Location sharing)!”

Hidden under the shadow of the eaves, Ryan’s brow furrowed. He had only just encountered Cyan River that morning; the forthright female knight seemed to have unearthed significant secrets in mere hours.

“Dungeon Labyrinth,” he muttered, weighing his next move. There was still time before midnight, and the itch to test his new weapon was undeniable.

Activating the “location sharing” on his [Overturned Mask], dampened with “Holy Water Drops,” he discerned Cyan River’s position, approximately 5 kilometers southwest of him.

“Not far,” Ryan concluded, breaking into a swift run towards the southwest, his figure a blur against the moonlit streets.

—

In the southwest of Santos’s outer city, a realm where shadows clung to the edges of poverty-stricken structures, a figure darted through an alley with ghostly silence and speed. She was Cyan River, and though she moved with a grace that would elude most, her pursuers were not so easily fooled.

Cloaked in black robes, three figures trailed her closely, their eyes piercing through the darkness that would have shielded any third-level professional from detection.

Cyan River’s face was pale, the sudden assault by the mysterious men leaving her no time for a proper defense. The dark energy they wielded felt like thorns digging into her flesh, sapping her spiritual power and inflicting states of weakness and dizziness.

She had attempted to vanish into the shadows, a tactic usually reliable but these assailants were undeterred, their vision seemingly unobscured.

Worse still, the dark spirits invading her body not only drained her but caused further deterioration each time she tapped into her spiritual reserves. To cleanse herself of this malevolent force, she would need to halt and focus all her efforts, an impossibility with the relentless pursuit.

“I hope the others from the ‘Overthrow Tamlpe’ arrive soon…” she thought desperately.

Only three of them carried the [Overturned Masks] marked with “Holy Water Drops”: herself, No. 4 Green Tide, and No. 7 Purple Wind. Her only hope was that one of them would reach her before it was too late.