After Kagan woke up with a mouth full of cat hair he heard Vold talk to him, sipping on a drink she had conjured, eyed Kagan’s sword. “That blade,” she started casually, “it has served you well, but it's time for something more... personal. A sword that’s truly yours.” she said pointing to the almost broken sword that laid beside him.

Kagan looked down at the sword, which indeed was just a standard-issue blade that had seen better days that was provided by Vold. “So, you’re saying it’s like wearing someone else’s underwear? Functional, but not quite right?”

Vold choked on her drink, unprepared for the comparison. “I... suppose that’s one way to put it,” she managed, trying to maintain her composure.

Kagan grinned, pleased with himself. “Well, I do know a place. Met a blacksmith a while back. Made a pretty solid impression, mostly because I accidentally set his shop on fire.”

Vold raised an eyebrow. “Accidentally?”

“Long story,” Kagan waved off. “But yeah, he's the guy for the job. And I’ve been thinking about this sword art, ‘Desperation’. I already have the first form down, ‘Greed’. It’s all about taking, you know? Like how I used to be.”

Vold nodded, seeing the depth in his words. “Each form can represent a part of your journey. It’s a powerful concept, Kagan.”

“Yeah, and each form will probably be as messed up as the last,” Kagan quipped, standing up and stretching. “But first, let’s get me a sword that’s not second-hand.”

He was ready to return to the first floor, back to Einar and Balin’s shop, but Vold couldn’t join him due to her ties to Eden. Before he left, she approached him, her usual stoic expression softened with concern.

“You seem... different, Kagan,” Vold remarked as they walked. “Hiding your feelings behind humor again?”

Kagan flashed a grin. “No hiding, just feeling unusually buoyant. Like a balloon, but less likely to float away.”

Vold shook her head, a small smile breaking through. “Just be sure that buoyancy doesn’t turn into carelessness.”

Taking her advice to heart, Kagan descended back to the first floor. The town was buzzing with activity, a stark contrast to the peaceful forests of Eden. In the town's center, a large screen displayed live footage of the higher floors, where the elite climbers, including his friends, were engaging in fierce combat against the 7th-floor boss - a formidable vassal of the demon king.

Kagan watched for a moment, impressed and a bit daunted. His companions moved with precision and power, their teamwork impeccable against the overwhelming might of the vassal. It was a stark reminder of the Tower's challenges and the gap he aimed to close.

Shaking off the awe, Kagan made his way to the familiar blacksmith shop. The bell tinkled as he entered, and he was greeted by the warm, chaotic ambiance he remembered. Einar, the half-elf, half-human blacksmith with a keen eye for detail, looked up from her work.

“Einar, Balin! Your prodigal disaster is back, and guess what? I haven’t set anything on fire lately!”

Einar, a half-elf, half-human with an air of grace about her, looked up from her workbench, her expression a mix of amusement and mock-surprise. “Well, if it isn’t our favorite arsonist. Come to grace us with more of your pyrotechnics?”

Balin, the stout dwarf blacksmith with a bushy beard, chuckled from behind the forge. “If he tries, he’ll have me to answer to.”

Kagan presented the runestone and wrist wraps. “I’m here on serious business. Need a new sword, something personal. And guess what I brought for payment?” He revealed a hefty sack of monster cores.

Einar’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s quite the stash. Let’s see what we can do.” She examined the runestone closely. “This is a rare find, Kagan. Powerful magic.”

“While my idiot husband works on your sword,” Einar said with a teasing glance at Balin, “I’ll craft you some new gear. Your current look is so last season.”

Kagan laughed. “Never thought I’d be a fashion icon in a place like this. Go easy on the frills, will you?”

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

The couple exchanged a knowing look, amused by Kagan’s upbeat demeanor. Balin began taking measurements for the sword, while Einar discussed ideas for incorporating the wrist wraps into Kagan’s new outfit.

Kagan spent the next few hours discussing designs and materials, cracking jokes to lighten the mood, yet carefully considering each suggestion. Einar and Balin worked with a synergy born of years of partnership, their skills complementing each other.

As he left the shop, Kagan glanced back at the big screen in the town center. The battle against the demon lord was reaching its climax, the hero was once again screaming his usual "We fight together" nonsense.

But it still made Kagan smile.

Kagan stood at the towering base of Yggdrasil, the vast tree stretching up into the sky, its branches like a labyrinthine maze reaching for the heavens. Clutching Vold’s note, he looked up, gauging the colossal task ahead.

“Guess we’re going tree-hopping, Lala. Hope you’re not afraid of heights,” Kagan muttered, half to himself, half to the little kitten. Lala responded with a nonchalant purr, as if she were always up for a bit of tree climbing.

Kagan approached the tree, his gaze tracing the sprawling branches that stretched out like pathways to unknown realms. He reached out to touch the bark, feeling its ancient energy pulsating under his fingers. “Well, here goes nothing,” he said and began his ascent.

The initial ascent was straightforward, with Kagan finding sturdy footholds in the rough bark of Yggdrasil. But as he climbed higher, the tree’s gargantuan size became more apparent. Branches sprawled out like massive arms, each a path of its own, some leading upwards, others veering off into the unknown.

Soon, Kagan reached a section where the branches were too far apart to simply climb. He had to leap from one to another, his heart pounding with every jump. Each leap was a test of faith – in his strength, his agility, and the sturdiness of the branches.

“Not exactly my idea of a relaxing hike,” Kagan muttered, calculating his next jump. Lala, ever the unflappable companion, merely purred in response, her tail swaying in the breeze.

The higher Kagan climbed, the more the tree seemed to pulse with ancient magic. The air grew thicker, filled with the energy of Yggdrasil. The branches here were adorned with vibrant moss and flowers that shimmered with an ethereal glow, illuminating his path.

Kagan paused at times to catch his breath, admiring the breathtaking view. The landscape of Eden stretched out below him, a tapestry of greens and blues, It was a moment of serene beauty, a stark contrast to the perilous journey he was on.

As he ventured further, navigating the maze of branches became more challenging. Some were deceptively fragile, snapping under his weight, while others were home to creatures that watched curiously as he passed. Kagan kept a steady pace, his muscles aching but his determination unwavering.

Hours slipped by, and the ascent became a rhythm of jumps, climbs, and brief moments of awe. Kagan's joking nature didn’t falter, despite the exhaustion. “They could’ve at least installed an elevator,” he quipped to Lala, who seemed amused, her eyes twinkling in the magical light.

Finally, as the sun began to set, casting a golden hue over the world, Kagan reached a large, flat branch, almost like a platform. It marked the end of his arduous climb. Ahead, nestled among the branches, was a quaint village, harmoniously integrated into the tree itself.

Kagan stepped onto the platform, his legs grateful for the respite. “We made it, Lala. I’m pretty sure I’ve just used up a lifetime’s worth of luck,” he said, a weary smile on his face.

Having reached the treetop village, Kagan wandered towards what appeared to be a towering wall encircling the heart of the settlement. As he approached, a figure perched atop the wall caught his eye – a dark elf archer, his expression one of surprise and hostility at the sight of a human in their midst.

Without a word, the archer nocked an arrow and let it fly straight at Kagan. Reacting instinctively, Kagan summoned a 'Magic Missile', directing it at the incoming projectile. The missile collided with the arrow in a burst of energy, obliterating it mid-air. The archer, now visibly confused, lowered his bow, his eyes widening in disbelief.

Before either could react further, the massive gate at the heart of the wall creaked open. Vold stepped through, her presence commanding and serene. She looked towards Kagan, a hint of pride in her eyes.

“Welcome, Kagan,” she said, her voice carrying through the still air. “You have climbed Yggdrasil and reached our village. But your journey has just begun.”

The archer on the wall, along with the gathering crowd of dark elves, looked on in stunned silence. Vold's introduction of Kagan was not just a mere formality; it carried a weight of significance in dark elf culture. In declaring Kagan her student, Vold had essentially named him as her heir, the child of the elves, a position of honor and immense responsibility.

Kagan, taken aback by the sudden turn of events, could only manage a half-joke, “Well, that’s one way to get a royal welcome. Do I get a crown, or is that asking too much?”

The crowd murmured, some faces showing intrigue, others skepticism. Vold simply smiled. “Your humor remains intact, I see. Come, there is much you need to learn about your new role.”

As they walked through the village, Kagan absorbed the sights and sounds of the dark elf community. The houses were elegantly crafted, blending seamlessly with the natural surroundings, and the villagers moved with a grace that spoke of their deep connection to the forest.

Vold led Kagan to a large, open pavilion where members of the community gathered. “Here, you will learn our ways, our history, and our magic. You are not just my student; you are a bridge between our people and the world outside.”

"Oh great, the only human child on the elves. Sure am lucky." Kagan said with his usual grin.

He got closer and whispered to Vold, "Why does that guy look like he wants to eat me?" he asked.

The only answer he got was a fist slamming on his head.