All MILFs are Mine

Chapter 110: NYXTER

Step-step-step-step-step

Fifteen minutes of running, and Leon finally came to a halt in front of the Kingdomʼs gate.

”Huff…” His breath came steady but deep, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips. His chest rose and fell with calm excitement as he stepped forward and crossed through the entrance, eyes sharp and locked ahead.

The market streets lay ahead. Merchants shuffled, carts creaked, crates hit tabletops. It was early — too early for crowds — but the quiet hum of life stirred around him. Leon moved through them like a shadow, weaving past shopkeepers setting up their stalls without breaking stride.

His pace was steady, but filled with excitement.

Five minutes later, he stood in front of Dekknʼs Smithy.

Without pausing, he climbed the stone steps, boots tapping firmly, and raised his hand to knock.

Knock-Knock

He waited. Ten seconds passed. Silence.

Leon exhaled through his nose, lifted his hand again—

Click

The door creaked open just as his knuckles hovered mid-air.

Gerald squinted at him, his brows low, voice gruff.

”Hm...? You? So early? Did humans forget how to sleep or what?”

Leon didnʼt waste a breath. ”Is it done?” His voice was tight, eager. His eyes didnʼt leave Geraldʼs face for a second.

Gerald held his gaze for a long beat, then jerked his head slightly. ”Come in. Shut the door.”

Without hesitation, Leon stepped inside. The heavy door thudded closed behind him.

Gerald moved toward the worktable with a slow, deliberate gait. His thick arms flexed as he reached underneath, pulling out a long, pitch-black sword wrapped tight in five thick cloth layers. His fingers gripped it firmly.

”Kid… what you gave me wasnʼt childʼs play,” Gerald muttered, his voice dropping low. ”Iʼll tell you straight — Iʼve outdone myself this time.”

He slid the sword onto the table.

Tang

The metal sang softly as it settled.

”For forty-six hours, I havenʼt stepped away from my forge and this is what came out of it.”

Leonʼs gaze locked onto the weapon. His hand stretched forward and wrapped around the hilt slowly, deliberately. His fingers curled tight around it, testing the grip.

”Woah…” His voice fell quiet, as he lifted the sword.

”I call it Nyxter. The nightʼs veil... Since itʼs pitch black like abyss.” Gerald spoke with a proud smile.

[Name: Nyxter]

[Type: Weapon]

[Rank: Rare]

[Crafter: Gerald Lon Kiggester]

[Description: A special sword crafted by legendary blacksmith Gerald Lon Kiggester. Forged from Travertine — a sacred, near-indestructible material from the Dwarf Kingdom. Donʼt be fooled by its dark look. The sword houses five distinct razor sharp blades, capable of slicing through nearly any surface.]

[Skill slots: 6]

[Skills: None]

[Enchantments: None]

Leonʼs fingers pressed firmly as he found the seam of the first cloth. With slow precision, he peeled it back.

A slender, dagger-like blade slid free, gleaming sharply — no handle, just clean, cold metal. He laid it gently on the table and turned to the second cloth.

With a flick of his wrist, the second layer unraveled. Another blade, just as flawless, slipped loose into his palm.

”These blades? Travertine,” Gerald muttered, stepping closer. His thick fingers closed around one of them. Without hesitation, he stabbed the blade straight into the wooden table.

The blade sank through effortlessly, sinking into the wood like a hot knife through wax.

”See that?” Geraldʼs lips curled into a sharp smile.

Leonʼs eyes narrowed slightly, lips parting.

”Damn.” His voice vibrated low, filled with weight.

”Thatʼll cost you twenty-five silvers more,” Gerald added coolly.

Leonʼs head snapped up, eyebrows raising.

”What!?” His chair scraped back as he shot to his feet, face hard.

”Youʼre surprised, kid?”

”You said ten silvers. I gave you five already. Twenty-five more is a damn joke.” Leonʼs hand slid into his pocket. He tossed five silvers onto the table with a clink.

Gerald shrugged, his expression calm and unfazed. He smoothly slid the sword away from Leon and dropped a single blade back onto the table in front of him.

”This is what you get for 10 silver.”

”Thatʼs cheating,” Leon muttered, his voice low and flat.

”No. Thatʼs called generosity. If Iʼd forged this with normal iron, you wouldnʼt have even made it to your first fight before it shattered.”

Geraldʼs gaze darkened slightly. ”Go ask around any dwarf, his forge will tell you what Travertineʼs worth.”

Leonʼs jaw ticked. His eyes flicked to the blade again.

ʼRare rank… yeah, heʼs not bluffing. Travertineʼs must be real, the description also says itʼs indestructible. Dwarves donʼt lie about craftsmanship. Iʼll trust it.ʼ

His shoulders dropped slightly as he met Geraldʼs stare head-on.

”How about twenty silvers?” His tone was sharp, unmoving.

”Twenty-four silvers and fifty coppers. Final word. Material fee only. No labor cost. Plus lifetime free repairs.” Gerald crossed his arms, standing firm.

Leon sucked in a breath through his teeth, jaw flexing. Then he reached into his pocket again and flipped out the gold coin.

”Got change?” His voice dropped, cold and clean.

Geraldʼs eyes locked on the coin like a starving man. His hand shot forward instinctively—

Leon pulled it back just an inch. ”Change?” His brow arched slightly.

”Y-Yeah. Yeah. Donʼt worry,” Gerald coughed, straightening up. ”You check the sword. Iʼll grab your change.”

Leon sat back down, never taking his eyes off the weapon. His hands closed around the hilt again, fingers dragging slowly down its length.

ʼLight. Balanced. Perfect fit.ʼ

He peeled the third cloth. The fourth blade slid free — slick and razor-edged. The steel kissed his skin, slicing a fine, red line across his finger with just the faintest pressure.

”Damn… dangerous stuff,” Leon muttered under his breath, setting the blade aside carefully. His eyes sharpened even more.

With calm precision, he undid the final cloth.

Two more blades dropped free — the thick core of the sword, and the last piece still bound to the handle.

He laid them all out in a clean line across the table, gaze heavy, breathing steady.

Then, without a word, Leon raised his hand.

”Threads…”

Five invisible mana threads snapped into existence, stretching from his fingers to the blades.

One by one, they rose smoothly into the air — floating, turning gently under Leonʼs control.

ʼHaha... This is going to-ʼ Before Leon couldʼve completed his sentence, one of the blade shot into the table.

”Oh shit... I canʼt control them-”

*Swish-Swish-Swish-Swish*

All the other four blades also started shooting into random directions.