This trip to the Hall of Dáin I could be said to have been quite fruitful.

First of all, thanks to the civil war that once broke out among the dragons, there were quite a few dragon skeletons scattered both within the hall and across the surrounding wilderness. As a result, the stock of dragon bones was greatly replenished.

The quantity collected was so abundant that, if all were made into dragonbone arrows and used sparingly, it would be enough to sustain the consumption of a small to mid-scale battle.

Aside from bones, there were also other dragon materials: hearts, scales, blood, and so on. Unfortunately, these three dragons were all wingless, attribute-less cold-drakes. They could neither fly nor breathe fire or any other element. Like the first dragon of this world, they were rather primitive species.

Of course, no dragon eggs were found either.

After all, they weren’t wyverns.

Other than their bones, the most valuable part of these land-dwelling dragons was their scales. Since they were fairly large, the scales were of some value and could be used to craft armor even better than diamond armor.

As for the blood and meat, those were somewhat lackluster. The blood of such attribute-less dragons could only be used to make a material called dragonsteel. Dragonsteel’s performance was far inferior to Dragonflame Steel, which is forged using the blood of fire dragons, but still slightly superior to diamond, an in-between material, as far as Garrett was concerned.

He himself had no use for it.

But that was only him.

Though not as rare or precious as the nearly extinct Dragonflame Steel, each piece of which was a treasure, dragonsteel was still a strong material. It could be forged into weapons for the most elite warriors.

The dragon scales and bones could be used as well, though he had to consider how best to distribute them, since, strictly speaking, these were nonrenewable resources.

The number of excellent Rangers and powerful warriors grew every year, but the supply of dragon-related materials would never increase.

Once they were used up, given the current situation, he’d have no choice but to head north into the Northern Waste to see if any dragons still survived, or perhaps search even farther north, in the great sea, for fossilized dragons left behind from ages past.

After returning to his domain and thinking it over, Garrett made a decision.

First, to issue dragonsteel swords to all legion champions.

Since the blood of these ordinary, wingless cold-drakes lacked the special properties of fire dragon blood, the resulting metal was less refined and significantly weaker than Dragonflame Steel.

Weapons forged from it dealt a base damage of 16 points, and the blades were somewhat large, not suitable for every combat style.

Even so, they were excellent weapons, far superior to others of the same kind. Only a giant beast’s massive battle axe or war hammer could match them in raw power, though those were far less convenient to wield.

All things considered, it was still very good.

Next came the dragon bones.

Dragon bones could be made into dragonbone swords, with a base damage of 8 points, slightly higher than the improved standard steel swords used by ordinary soldiers and Rangers of Wayfort, and three times the durability.

However, even though this was a small improvement, there still weren’t that many. Even with the replenishment, only a few hundred swords could be forged.

At first, he intended to distribute one to every elite Ranger, but after some thought, he realized that with their growing numbers, the supply would run out in just a few years.

If some had them and others didn’t, that would create resentment.

It is not scarcity that breeds anger, but inequality.

Rather than that, it would be better to fully enchant the elite Rangers’ existing weapons, bringing them to their optimal state. The cost-effectiveness would be much higher.

Still, the dragon bones shouldn’t just sit unused. Having them and not using them was no different from not having them at all.

So he forged a batch of dragonbone arrows instead and designated them as strategic resources in the armory. They could be requisitioned in special circumstances, with usage requests evaluated by each legion commander. If a commander was unavailable, authority would pass to the company captains.

“Let’s go with that for now.”

With that decided, he immediately summoned Wormi to fire up the forge, and together they smelted dragonsteel, a material not previously listed in the synthesis catalog.

Its smelting time was also much shorter, allowing Wormi to produce several ingots in a single day.

A few days later, enough dragonsteel had been forged to craft swords for all the legion champions.

The five active combat-ready legion champions, as well as one retired champion who no longer fought on the battlefield, each received a dragonsteel sword.

Almost every champion, upon receiving the blade, could hardly put it down. They looked as if they wanted to cut down every blade of grass taller than half a meter within a five-kilometer radius.

After all, these were champions, each one the strongest among all soldiers and Rangers during the grand tournaments held once every five years. Their stamina and strength were more than enough to wield such a sword.

Except… for the very first champion.

“My lord, after I’m gone, please give this sword to someone who needs it more.”

A pair of aged, trembling hands received the dragonsteel sword that Garrett had personally delivered, a blade so sharp it seemed to slice through the very air.

For the first time in many years, the original legion champion, Yavin, put on his champion’s cloak and laurel crown once more, appearing at the ceremony in his best spirits and posture.

He swung the dragonsteel sword twice with full strength. The power was undiminished from his youth, the air whistling with force. Had an orc been standing before him, it would likely have been cleaved clean in two.

But the exhaustion that followed was plain to see.

Once his breathing steadied, he sheathed the blade into a specially forged scabbard crafted by the blacksmiths, lightweight, practical, perfectly fitted to the dragonsteel sword, and adding little burden.

“Don’t say such things. You’re still doing fine, aren’t you?”

Garrett patted Yavin on the shoulder, momentarily at a loss for words.

Though he said that, he knew the man before him was truly getting old.

The Ranger who had once been his constant companion, also of champion-level skill, named Arje, if he remembered correctly, now lived a peaceful life between his farm and his home, long having let go of his past titles and ambitions.

Yavin was slightly younger than Arje. It was that small advantage of a few years’ youth that had allowed him to triumph back then, the edge of vigor and endurance that made the difference.

But now, even that youth had faded. His hair was entirely white.

“My lord, I know what kind of weapon this is. Please do as I said, give it to one who can truly make use of it.”

Yavin uncharacteristically refuted Garrett’s words.

His eyes were still as clear as they had been the day they first met in the Gondor caravan, though now they held a calmness and peace born of years gone by.

A single glance, and it felt as though a lifetime had passed.

Garrett nodded.

“As you wish.”

Only then did Yavin smile.

Though it might seem pragmatic, it was true. Such a fine weapon should not be left to gather dust.

The other champions, one after another, expressed the same sentiment.

Perhaps the dragonsteel swords would become heirlooms, symbols of legacy passed from one champion to the next.

But history would not forget any of those who wielded them.

The champions, swords in hand, returned once more to the front lines, continuing to serve as the legions’ hidden trump cards.

From that day forward, however, things were different: every legion champion now carried two swords, one large and one small. The large one was the dragonsteel sword. The smaller, or rather, regular-sized one, was their personal weapon of choice.

Normally, they still fought with their own swords. Only when facing an especially powerful foe would they draw the great dragonsteel blade.

Now, each legion champion had two forms.

When that sharp dragonsteel sword was drawn, it meant they were ready to fight with everything they had, even at the cost of their lives.

After completing these arrangements, Garrett once again departed from Wayfort and appeared in Dale.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep