A simple al had co and gone in no ti.
Despite his high station, the Elven Lord proved surprisingly warm and welcoming. Frankly, Eric hadn't even been sure he'd be allowed through the gates, let alone be greeted in person.
That had been a shock.
Maybe it was because human visitors were rare in this hidden valley—or maybe, just maybe, the Lord of the Elves had sensed sothing curious in Eric. A trace of hidden power. A whisper of a title.
But whatever the reason, it likely ant little in the grand span of an immortal's life. To Elrond, it was probably no more than a small, passing ripple in a very long stream. A single note in a very old song.
After exchanging a few words, the Elven Lord had simply gestured for Eric to explore the valley as he pleased and departed with the grace of soone who never stubs their toe.
That evening, Lindir—a pleasant and efficient aide—arranged a guestroom for Eric. And what a guestroom it was.
Eric stretched out on a bed that felt like it was spun from clouds and stuffed with divine down.
"Wow," he muttered, "Elves really do make everything fancier. I don't think I've ever slept this well."
He was asleep five seconds later.
The next morning, as Eric stepped outside, he instantly felt several sets of eyes turn his way.
Turning his head, he found a small group of elves observing him with open curiosity.
Word of his arrival—and more importantly, the way he'd arrived—had clearly spread.
Sensing the stares, Eric did what any seasoned adventurer would: he stared right back. No flinching.
He had to admit, elves were absurdly blessed. With their long lifespans and dedication to their crafts, even a mildly diligent elf could beco a master of many things. Warriors, mages, artisans—they had ti for it all.
And the looks? Let's just say this was a land where beauty was apparently standard-issue. Walking through the valley felt like strolling through an impossibly graceful fashion show. No trolls here.
Also, Eric had noted sothing else:
Elves had 30 HP. Naturally. Because why wouldn't they?
Just then, one of the elves finally approached, unable to contain his curiosity.
"Greetings, traveler from afar. Do you bring any news from the human towns to the west?"
Eric smiled politely. "Sa old. People living, trading, gossiping, surviving. Nothing newsworthy, really."
"We heard you singlehandedly defeated a cavalry squad. Is that true?"
Eric scratched the back of his head. "More or less."
"Incredible... And do you practice magic?"
"A bit. But honestly, beating them had more to do with so clever tricks. And, well—luck."
And a few ga-breaking exploits, but that was classified.
"Impressive," the elf said sincerely. "A new star rises among the humans."
"Will you be staying with us for a while?"
"If I can, I'd love to," Eric replied.
"Splendid! If you don't mind, I'd be honored to show you around. Our valley is safe and beautiful. Evil has no place here."
Eric grinned. "Then I'm all yours."
Tour guide: unlocked.
"Oh, and I didn't catch your na."
"Aglanir," the elf replied.
"Eric."
They walked through a land that seed torn straight from a painter's dream.
Mountains, waterfalls, high towers, cozy taverns, farms so perfect they could've been stitched into a tapestry—this place had it all. Everything crafted with elegance, from grand halls to the smallest street lantern.
Though it lacked the mysterious serenity of night, the valley in daylight was sothing else entirely—vivid, lush, and breathtaking.
Eric couldn't help but sigh. "This place is... incredible. I don't think I've ever seen such beauty. Honestly? I'm not sure I want to go back ho."
Aglanir smiled proudly. "That's how most of us felt when we arrived... even the humans."
Clang!
Just then, a rhythmic hamring rang out, drawing Eric's attention to a nearby building.
Following his gaze, Aglanir said, "That's the forge. Last night's skirmish left a few weapons and pieces of armor in need of repair. Our smiths are taking care of it."
Eric's interest was piqued. "Mind if I take a look inside?"
"Of course not. You're a guest of Lord Elrond himself—you're welco anywhere."
CLANG!
The mont Eric stepped inside, he saw a tall elven smith hamring down on a glowing longsword.
Noticing the visitor, the blacksmith paused and nodded politely.
"This is Eric, a guest of the Lord. He's curious about your craft," Aglanir explained.
"Ah, welco," the smith replied in a asured tone. "As you can see, I'm forging a new blade. Even with enchantnts and training, it's important to keep one's skills sharp. I take on repairs and commissions whenever I can."
Eric's gaze landed on the shining sword.
"May I?" he asked.
"By all ans."
Carefully, Eric lifted the longsword from the anvil.
[Elven Steel Sword] — Attack 7
His eyebrows shot up.
"Wait... Is this your standard weapon quality?"
"Yes," the smith replied, almost confused. "Why?"
"No reason. No reason at all. Just... wow. It's flawless. Really impressive work."
Internally, Eric was screaming.
This is a freaking diamond-tier sword!
Why are your basic weapons this cracked!?
Out loud, he said, "You elves sure don't ss around."
"Thank you. Our techniques are ancient, refined over countless generations. There's deep wisdom behind every strike."
The smith then launched into an unexpectedly riveting lecture on elven smithing history—how the Guild of Jewelwrights had evolved, how the craft moved to the valley, the spiritual harmony between magic and tallurgy. Eric found himself thoroughly absorbed.
Even the forge itself had history. Apparently, the anvil was older than several human kingdoms combined.
Eric rested a hand on the exquisitely engraved forge table, marveling at the age and artistry.
[Special Crafting Block Detected: "Valley Forge"]
["Alloy Forging" Mod Installed]
[Valley Faction Recipes Unlocked]
Eric froze.
Wait... What?
He blinked rapidly at the UI notifications only he could see.
A new mod had just been installed.
"Sothing wrong?" Aglanir asked, noticing the look on his face.
Eric blinked again. "Oh. No—just impressed. This forge is... older than my entire bloodline."
"You needn't be so surprised. In our lands, many things have long and winding histories. It may seem strange to you, but to us, it's quite ordinary."
"Right. Of course."
Outwardly, Eric nodded politely. Inwardly, his thoughts were spinning.
He quickly opened his crafting nu and saw a flood of new recipes—tagged with the Elven Faction icon.
Elven Steel Sword. Elven Spear. Full Elven Armor Set...
And to craft them? He needed a material called Elven Steel.
And how to get Elven Steel?
According to the new data, it required a newly unlocked forge structure: the Alloy Furnace. By placing coal and iron into the furnace—and investing a bit of experience—he could refine the mix into Elven Steel.
The XP part made sense. Magic needed a conduit, and in this world, experience often doubled as mana.
If he skipped the XP cost, the result was ordinary steel—stronger than iron, but nothing close to the magically-forged Elven version.
Eric stood there quietly, processing this.
For days now, he'd been worrying about outgrowing his iron gear. His combat strength was increasing fast, and normal armor just wasn't cutting it anymore. But diamonds? Those were a distant dream. He'd even half-considered sneaking into the Lonely Mountain to see if he could loot sothing under the dragon's nose.
But now? With this Alloy Mod unlocked?
His path forward had never looked clearer.
And—thank the stars—he might not need to risk dragon breath to get a proper set of high-tier gear.
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