Strongest Scammer: Scamming The World, One Death At A Time-Chapter 187: Visiting The Weapon Peak

The Weapon had a dark metal shaft about the length of a spear, but the blade was longer than a glaive’s—closer to a normal sword or curved saber. The edge was jagged near the base, smooth near the tip. On the other end of the shaft was a weighted blunt knob.

"What is that?" Han Yu asked.

"Modified split-glaive, Mid Grade Spirit Weapon." Lan Bo said. "You can hold it near the blade for short-range combat like a saber, or grip the end for extended reach like a polearm. The knob can also be used to bash skulls."

Han Yu took it in his hands.

It was a bit heavier than expected, but not unwieldy. As he tried a few moves—basic swings, thrusts, spins—he found that it responded smoothly. And strangely, it did feel right. He could picture himself using this to complement his Bolt God Fist and Falling Leaf Strike. Short-range slashes. Long-range sweeps. Counter-hits.

"I like it," he said, surprised.

Lan Bo grinned. "No one else did. You’re the first person to show interest in that thing in three years." freewebnoveℓ.com

"How much?"

"Six mid-grade spirit stones. And two hundred merit points."

Han Yu blinked. "That’s it?"

"It’s a clearance item," Lan Bo said with a shrug. "Cheap, sturdy, but untested in battle. No fancy inscriptions. No lightning. No hidden blade compartments. What you see is what you get."

Han Yu nodded.

"Good. I’m not here to show off—I’m here to win fights." Han Yu said before thinking of it. "Speaking of the glaive... Can it be modified?" Han Yu asked.

"Modified? What kind of modification?" Lan Bo asked.

"Like the shift being detachable so that the blade can be used directly like a sword and the shaft like a short staff." Han Yu did his best to desribe it.

"Hmm... It certainly can be done. Though not here. You’d have to go to the Weapon Peak to get it done by a proper Weapon Forger." He answered.

"Great! Then I’ll have my own special Han Yu branded custom Glaive Hyrbid!" Han Yu cheered.

Lan Bo clapped his hands. "Spoken like a true outer sect madman. Go register it and good luck."

As Han Yu walked out of the armory, the strange glaive strapped to his back, he felt a strange sense of satisfaction.

For once, he didn’t feel like he was pretending to be something else.

This weapon wasn’t glamorous. It wasn’t legendary. It didn’t sparkle or sing or have an ego.

But it fit.

And that, for Han Yu, was enough.

The sun hung lazily over the horizon as Han Yu climbed the winding trail that led to Weapon Peak—a jagged hill of black rock and smoke stacks, where the sound of hammers never ceased and the scent of hot metal permeated the air.

This was the domain of artisans. Of smiths who could forge blades that sang through the wind or hammer spears sharp enough to pierce a mountain. Han Yu clutched his new glaive tightly across his back, feeling a little out of place as he reached the sprawling complex of workshops, forges, and armament halls.

And he realized something.

He had no idea where to go.

The place was a maze of shouting disciples, glowing furnaces, and magical sparks. A disciple ran past him holding a half-molten chain whip. Another was yelling about flux ratios and spiritual thread calibration.

Han Yu grabbed a random passing disciple.

"Hey, where can I get a weapon customized?"

The boy blinked. "Try Workshop Twelve. Or maybe Eight. Or Seven if the manager Disciple’s not throwing a tantrum again."

"Clear as mud. Thanks," Han Yu muttered and wandered toward a cluster of buildings that looked more like warzones than workshops.

At Workshop Twelve, a stern, sweat-drenched disciple took one look at Han Yu’s outer sect robe and scoffed.

"Too busy. Come back next month."

Han Yu moved to Workshop Eight, where two brawny disciples were mid-argument over whether a saber should have teeth.

One of them waved Han Yu off. "We don’t have time for novelty glaives. Try someone who makes... I don’t know, training rods."

He tried Workshop Seven, where a disciple was fast asleep with spark protection goggles on and a sword halfway melted into a workbench.

No luck.

Frustrated, Han Yu sat down on a bench near a pile of bent polearms and sighed. His glaive rested across his knees. The metal looked dull under the forge light, and for a moment, Han Yu felt a bit foolish for thinking he’d just stroll in and get it modified.

"You look depressed," a quiet voice piped up.

Han Yu looked over and saw a small, skinny disciple standing beside him. His outer robe was Weapon Peak gray, though it hung loosely over his narrow frame like he’d borrowed it from someone twice his size. Soot smudged his face, and he held a pair of cracked goggles in one hand.

"I can help," the disciple said with an awkward smile. "I mean... if you still want to modify that glaive."

Han Yu blinked. "You’re from Weapon Peak?"

The disciple straightened up. "Yes! Technically. I am. Definitely."

Han Yu squinted. "You sure? You look like someone who’d get picked last in a rock-tossing contest."

The disciple scratched the back of his head. "Well, I don’t get as much work as the others. My skills... aren’t as developed yet. But! If your request is what I think it is—modifying the glaive so it can be split into two weapons—I can do it!"

Han Yu tilted his head. "That’s not easy."

"It’s not hard either," the disciple said quickly. "I mean, I’ve done segmented weapons before. Not high-grade ones, obviously. But your glaive doesn’t have spiritual inscriptions or a core matrix.

It’s a Pure Forging Type Spirit Weapon. It’s basic metalwork. Add a locking mechanism with a socket, reinforce the shaft, a little balancing... I can do it."

Han Yu looked down at his glaive.

"And you’ll do it cheap?" Han Yu asked with narrow eyes.