Compared to the complex structure and high production difficulty of Magic Scrolls, using Engraving Craft to replace industrial methods in hand grenade manufacturing was far more efficient.
With the design blueprint in hand, Krexia only took an hour to successfully produce four of them.
Their appearance resembled a pull-tab can, about two sizes larger than what she had seen in her previous life, with a pull ring on the top and insulation material connected below to block the Spell Circuit.
In other words, a safety lock.
The usage remained the same: after pulling the safety ring, the Magic Power circulates within the Energy Storage Rune, closing the Magic Circuit. Once linked to the Elemental Conversion Magic Pattern, in about three seconds, the Magic Power completes the elemental conversion process and then explodes out in an instant.
The power was roughly equivalent to Third-tier Magic.
It wasn’t that Krexia didn’t want to make something more powerful, but the magical materials capable of containing such high concentrations of Magic Power were extremely expensive, making the cost prohibitive.
Finally, there was the Gunblade.
After two days of experimentation, the practical results were excellent—its attack range was sufficiently long, accuracy high, concealment good, and there was almost no casting delay.
The downside was that the power was too low; it could only kill Second-tier Magic Beasts. When facing Third-tier Magic Beasts, it felt weak and could at most wound them. Plus, the barrel and other components wore down very quickly.
After just two days, the barrel had already shown obvious wear, and the power had noticeably declined.
But considering the Gunblade’s production cost was less than two Coins, she was at peace with it.
If she could adjust the Gunblade’s power supply limit to fire Magical Bullets equal in strength to Third-tier Magic, that would be perfect. Then it would no longer be just an ordinary hunting weapon.
Unfortunately, due to the limitation of material strength, this plan had to be shelved for now.
With plenty of Magic Materials left from her purchases, Krexia took out the higher quality ones to craft some Gunblade components, replacing the severely worn parts.
With that, the equipment was considered complete.
Tomorrow, she would head to the Adventurer Association to pick up a C-Rank Commission, earn some money, and then prepare to make her escape.
Putting the equipment and Magic Materials on the table into her Storage Ring, Krexia pushed open the door and stepped outside.
***
Walking through the streets, Krexia noticed that the crowd was noticeably thinner compared to last night.
Passing by the Bar, she intentionally glanced inside.
Compared to the previous standing-room-only crowd, the number of Adventurers and Mercenaries inside was less than half of yesterday’s, and almost all of them bore some kind of injury.
Their conversations were much more subdued, with few smiles on their faces.
Pushing open the door and entering, Krexia sat down at the bar and asked the Barkeep for a glass of fresh Beer.
The Barkeep frowned slightly upon seeing a girl who looked no older than sixteen, but when he noticed the silver Adventurer Medal on her chest and the pointed Elf Ears under her Wide-Brimmed Pointed Hat, a look of realization crossed his face.
He then took a wooden tankard from the counter, turned, and opened the valve under the large wooden barrel.
The pale yellow liquid gushed into the tankard, bubbles gently rising as a layer of fine white foam formed on top.
When the foam was nearly overflowing, the Barkeep closed the valve and slowly slid the tankard toward Krexia.
She took the tankard and drank a small sip, the mild bitterness and malt aroma spreading across her taste buds.
A long-missed flavor.
“Business seems slow today,” Krexia remarked.
The Barkeep paused briefly in wiping a glass, then sighed and responded, “Yeah, back in the day, Mercenaries would squeeze into every bar, fighting over seats. Sometimes the latecomers would curse in anger if they couldn’t get one.”
He set down the glass and scanned the room full of burly men.
Almost all bore injuries; it looked like they had undergone some basic treatment—the wounds were clean and the bandages tightly wrapped.
“These are the ones who trickled in later.”
“These hard-drinking bastards still come here for a few drinks even with serious injuries. No amount of persuading can get them to leave.”
Following the Barkeep’s gaze, Krexia saw a table of three men dressed scantily, shirtless, their muscular bodies covered with jagged scars.
One had thick bandages wrapped around his forehead and left eye, with large gauze patches on his shoulder, some areas faintly stained with blood.
Another had lighter injuries, only a bandage on his left arm. But for these people who earned money by hunting Magic Beasts, even this kind of wound was life-threatening.
It meant they wouldn’t be able to accept commissions for a while.
“That group is a ten-person Mercenary Team. Only three have returned so far.”
“The rest? No idea if they’re recovering at the Hospital of the Church or still stuck in the Mageling Forest. Either way, they haven’t come back.”
Krexia didn’t respond, quietly drinking her beer and listening to the Barkeep’s tale.
“I’ve worked here for eight years, seen plenty of things like this. People in this line of work are risking their lives to make a living. It’s normal for teams to suffer injuries or casualties occasionally.”
“But today’s losses are worse than usual.”
“Maybe there’s some powerful Magic Beast in the Mageling Forest. Otherwise, with these veterans’ vigilance, even if they couldn’t win, it shouldn’t have resulted in such heavy casualties.”
Krexia thought of the Goblin Brute and Grand Slime she had faced during the day.
Normally low-level Magic Beasts, their combat power was usually limited. But under the influence of Witch’s Power, they exhibited abnormal aggression.
Especially that big Goblin—his enlarged body, unusually tough skin, and monstrous strength made him like a cannonball when charging.
Thinking back still sent chills down her spine.
The mess she saw on the road returning from the Mageling Forest had already prepared her mentally for some kind of anomaly.
She hadn’t expected the impact to be this severe.
Krexia clenched her tankard and downed the remaining half glass of Beer.
The bitter taste slid down her throat as she handed the empty cup back to the Barkeep, signaling for another.
The Barkeep took the cup, and a few seconds later, slid a freshly poured tankard toward her.
The foam bubbles on top popped softly with a faint crackle.
“You must be a recently arrived Adventurer here in Vanor City, right?”
“I don’t claim to know every Mercenary or Adventurer in Vanor City, but I know most of them. A guest as striking as you? If I’d seen you before, I’d surely remember.”
“Ah…”
Krexia recalled herself in the Leia Principality just four days ago, and then thought of that unlucky Pink Magic Wand.
“Something like that.”
(1/3)
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