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Published at 30th of November 2023 11:24:07 AM


Chapter 186

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It was a new day. Well, technically, it was still the 30th of WinterMoon since the battle began after midnight. News of what happened yesterday had already spread around Cedaraille like wildfire.

The majority of the nobles already knew, as they’d fought alongside the Duke of Greenveil against the [Molten Core Rachonoid], and, once morning came, the rest of the people from the  noble district would have been informed, I believe. The same thing was also going on in the merchant, middle, and lower districts due to the scavengers, adventurers, and soldiers spreading the story. Even if you hadn’t heard this from the city’s criers or through gossip, the scorched memento right outside the city’s wall was enough evidence.

As somebody staying in an inn in the merchant district, I was well aware of the number one hot topic. The innkeeper, who stayed up late from all the commotion, even asked my party for details, as he knew we were inside the dungeon for over a week. He was quite overjoyed when he learned we were on the frontlines, mumbling how this information would sell well to the merchants. He deduced merchants would line up in front of the noble’s houses for the materials, at least figuratively.

The Sarlenzia Company will benefit a ton from this if the Duke orders them to export the materials. Really helps that they’re so close with each other, maybe even more if what the Duke implied with his daughter…

That was private business between the Duke and Ellaine. I’d probably ask her about it later, but for today, there was something more important.

“I need to forge the rock into my new hammer,” Grimnir greeted me the moment I went down the stairs of the inn I was staying at. It was already noon and it seemed he waited until I was awake. “I’m about to make it and I want you and Aurora to see me create it. If you want your gear, then you should learn how it all starts.”

Saori and Ellaine declined. Saori wanted to meet her students and Ellaine had already seen how blacksmiths work when her father commissioned his armor, so she went with Saori. The students were completely fatigued despite drinking some dragorade, so they decided to rest, while Yorshka told me she had to inform the Nordor dragonewt clan of my birth, survival, and safety. That meant my dragon “mother” would learn about it … but it was better than what Cernust warned me about—an invasion army of silver-scaled dragonkins.

In the end, only Tasianna and I accompanied Grimnir. He grumbled about our “disinterest in an important staple in an adventurer’s life,” leading the way with a disgruntled expression. I thought we were going to his RV home in the lower district, but we actually ended up in the middle district’s artisan neighborhood. The noise of busy workers, loud foremen, and negotiating merchants filled my ears as we slipped through the crowd.

“Grimnir, if you need minerals or metals, we already have a ton from the Sarlenzia Trading Company and we can smelt most of the salvaged voldunna armor. Why are we here?” I asked, worried he might have lost his way.

However, Grimnir just looked at me with pity, as if I had no idea what I was talking about. “Lass, here is another lesson as a Peolyncian inhabitant: the hammer is the most important tool for a blacksmith’s success. Endurance and technique won’t get you far if your hammer is of the same quality as an apprentice’s first work. Where we are going is the one place I would have never thought to go to, but honor be damned if I can’t repay a debt.”

I remembered Grimnir mentioning how a hammer would melt and bend during the smelting process if it weren’t resistant enough against higher temperatures. ‘Cause making armor from my scales required incredibly high temperatures, something as hot as my dragon breath, Grimnir required a hammer made from that molten voldunna core that could withstand that heat.

I already gave it to him after the spider queen raid, so why wasn’t he making one right now? Did he need a bigger forge?

The Tunging Hammer and the Iron Crevasse were considered rivals for the title of the best according to the blacksmith guild, making them the most reputable smithies in town. Conveniently operating directly across the street from each other, the area between them was incredibly busy, primarily ‘cause of all the customers inside the two shops and the workers enjoying lunch at the street vendors. In fact, the members and workers on either side were acting like sports fans, hyping up their faction with too much energy.

Considering the city was nearly destroyed last night, people are going on with their lives normally. Kinda makes the effort we put in to stop the rachonoid totally worth it.

People noticed us. A dragonewt priestess with a decorative white robe, a wind elf in a conspicuous maid dress, and a ram-horned taz dwarf without a beard—which he tragically lost in his fight against a B rank volchark—were traveling together in one group. People were talking about it, wondering if we were customers and which shop we would frequent.

And the one Grimnir chose was… the Tunging Hammer!

“Wooo, Goddess be thanked, yeah! I knew it!”

“No! We’re still bloody better!”

People were becoming celebrative and rambunctious at the same time like rowdy fans in a packed football stadium. Smug-looking customers of the Tunging Hammer were slinging slurs at the other lane, calling out how their shop was better just ‘cause a dwarf decided to frequent them. “We are good enough for a dwarf!” they all shouted, causing the Iron Crevasse side to bite their nails and lose some neutral customers.

What was the actual reason?

“Their shop looks less packed,” Grimnir told us under all the shouting and cackles.

The blacksmith workshop was divided into two sections—the shop consisted of half of the first and second floor, while the smithy was right behind the counter in the second half of the first floor, similar to Ogni’s shop in Firwood. In terms of size, Ogni’s small shop was a far cry from how large the Tunging Hammer was. The first floor was like a small 7-Eleven while—after leaving Grimnir at the counter and going up to explore—we found the second floor to be about as large as a medium-sized clothing store. There was an assortment of weapons on the ground floor, but most customers preferred browsing the goods upstairs, leaving those with commissions downstairs.

Listening around, it seemed that all the shop’s salesmen were actually blacksmith apprentices, led by a single veteran as their supervisor. While they weren’t charismatic like merchants, the adventurers didn’t seem to mind it too much as the purpose of these apprentices was for them to use and train their [Blacksmith’s Appraisal]. The most important skill for a blacksmith next to [Blacksmithing] and maybe [Metalworking].

Kraftja was a blacksmith, like her husband, Ogni, but she mostly manned the store’s counter with her [Blacksmith’s Appraisal] skill. Parameters like the Attack Power of a weapon or the Defensive Power of armor were paramount for an adventurer to know before they made a purchase, which was why a blacksmith was needed to act as the salesman for an equipment shop.

“Tch, fuck no! As if!” We suddenly heard from below.

Once we went downstairs, we saw a group of topless, burly men covered in sweat and metal dust, wearing aprons with pockets full of tools like hammers and chisels as well as a few other implements. Some had crossed their arms while others had their hands on their hips, but all of them were looking at Grimnir with annoyance and dissatisfaction.

Grimnir, looking moody as always, responded by snorting at them, small flickering flames came out from his nose unexpectedly. Grimnir’s armor was completely destroyed during our dungeon dive, so he was back in his blacksmith’s garb, albeit still wearing a shirt as he hasn’t begun working yet.

“The last thing I need is some disgraced blacksmith hammering inside my forge as if it’s normal. Damn you dwarf, you came into this city with your shitty attitude, and you expect us to open the doors so you can use our smithy to forge something? Fuck no! I ain’t risking Bleidla’s wrath!” the human blacksmith standing in front of the others spat out, staring Grimnir down with a grimace. Considering he said “my forge,” this was probably the owner of the Tunging Hammer

With their boss trying to shoo Grimnir out, the other smiths began to step up in support. “We’re well aware of tazongn customs, zuekluk. You dishonored yourself, taz. Whatever the fuck you did, your clan found it horrendous enough to cut off all the crust’lock from your beard and hair. Be happy you didn’t lose your ears, too!”

“Zuekluk” meant “Dishonorable dwarf” while “crust’lock” alluded to the rock hair dwarves were supposed to have on their beard and hair, a sign of prestige and their accomplishments, at least according to Tasianna’s conversations with Grimnir while practicing her dwarven. Grimnir, compared to Ogni and Kraftja, only had the rock hide on his ears when we first met him, a racial feature dwarves were born with.

“Ha, let me guess, the reason why your beard is gone is ‘cause it burned off, yeah? How does it feel being careful around a fire like us humans, huh, dwarf? Does your pride still exist after being clean-shaven? Or are you gonna spout how much better you still are, huh?”

I already knew there was some animosity between the local blacksmith guild and Grimnir. However, I didn’t think it would be this bad. I anticipated a rivalry, not full-blown hatred.

I wanted Grimnir to defuse this situation, but with his personality, that was a bit wishful.

“Hmpf! Of course! My techniques alone are far better than every single smith in this damn city. It’s unquestionable, regardless if Bleidla has abandoned me or not! By Crustacia’s twintails, I ain’t here to squabble with you, I’m here to borrow your hammer so I can forge mine!”

There was a commotion. The loyal customers watching this confrontation couldn’t keep quiet at this challenge to their favorite smithy. They were shouting and spitting insults at Grimnir for coming into the shop and belittling the workshop owner and its employees. Although I was on Grimnir’s side, I couldn’t help but acknowledge their frustration from how he worded it.

Before it escalated again, I stepped up to stop them. “I apologize, but what exactly is the commotion? Mister Grimnir, what is happening?”

Seeing me, a noble priestess of Aurena, speaking up, most of the onlookers became uneasy and the noise dwindled, although I could still hear people whispering their dissatisfaction at Grimnir. Grimnir, himself, didn’t give them a second thought and answered my question, saying, “The reason why we came here, lass. I need to create my hammer and to do that, I need to borrow somebody else’s hammer to do so, preferably a high-quality one.”

“I thought you needed a larger forge? If you need a stronger hammer, we have the funds, we can just buy it for you, no problem. It’s an investment.”

“It’s not that easy, Lady Priestess.” The one to reply wasn’t Grimnir, but the owner of the Tunging Hammer, Johark. He still had a grimace on his face, but it seemed to have softened a bit.

Since my knowledge of blacksmithing was pretty much only surface-level, only knowing that stronger monster materials created better equipment, Johark gave me a short explanation of what Grimnir wanted. In short, when Grimnir said hammers were the most important tools for a blacksmith, he wasn’t just stating the obvious; hammers were primarily responsible for a weapon’s stats and the quality of its skills.

The sturdiness and heat resistance of a hammer weren’t the only things that made a good hammer good, the Attack Power and the skills embedded into it also affected how well gear created with it would come out. A good blacksmith wasn’t just somebody with incredible technique, endurance, and patience, but also someone who had meticulously created numerous hammers. Use a good hammer to create a better hammer, then repeat this cycle until your better-better hammer became the best hammer. This was one of the main money-sinks for a blacksmith.

Apprentices usually start off with a crude, skill-less hammer to create their first personal one. Since monster materials and special ores affected the strength of a hammer, blacksmiths had to accumulate money for their next upgrade. Experience was important, but assuring you had the right materials was a major concern for every blacksmith apprentice. Cedaraille having a dungeon wasn’t just a blessing for adventurers, but also for all equipment artisans.

“I ain’t starting from zero. The amount of investment to get a lowly hammer up to what I need would take too long, I ain’t making you wait that long, lass. I heard the Tunging Hammer and the Iron Crevasse were the only smithies in Cedaraille to have hammers made from rank B materials; both belong to the shops’ respective owners,” Grimnir finally explained.

But Johark couldn’t care less of his explanation, rejecting his request entirely. “Pah! You think I’ll just say ‘yes?’ Fuck no! First, I ain’t risking Bleidla’s anger by letting you use it; I ain’t risking my business! Second, you’re here for a favor but all I hear from you is damn scorn—‘setting your pride’ aside to ask a favor from a human while looking down on us is what makes you dwarven blacksmiths patronizing and arrogant! Get the fuck out of my smithy, you have no friends here!”

He then turned to me, forcing himself to calm down. “Lady Priestess, if you have a request, I can personally show you what a human blacksmith can do. I can turn any rank B material into what you want.”

“Hrmmmk!” Grimnir growled as veins appeared on his thick forehead.

This is problematic.

As I was shaking my head at the heated quarrel between the two of them, Tasianna stepped forward with a nonchalant expression. “May I suggest a competition?”

“Huh?” Grimnir and Johark let out in surprise, the tension in the shop giving way to confusion.

“My lady is seeking the highest-quality equipment Cedaraille can produce, regardless of who it comes from. Our companion requires sturdy armor, armor fit for a knight. So, I suggest we decide on the blacksmith with a competition, to see who is fit to work on the commission. The materials we have are all rank B, so we cannot risk losing them.”

I looked over at Grimnir, who gave me an affirmative nod.

As such, I added, “I am looking for scaled armor, preferably ones made from my own scales. If it’s a competition, I believe it would give me a glimpse of who is more qualified for this work. Considering how many scales you have to add to the armor, this should be a time-intensive procedure, correct?”

“Dragonewts love creating armor using their scales. It’s a status symbol if an armor made from them comes out well. The lass is asking for armor made in the style from her homeland. Can you really do it?” Grimnir’s eyes blazed up, challenging Johark with a smirk. Without his beard, the smugness level was going through the roof.

Oi, Grimnir, I’m trying to help you here! Make friends! Stop looking like that!

Johark frowned at Grimnir’s agreement to the challenge, looking slightly anxious. The crowd and his employees were egging him on to join the competition, stating he should show the workshop’s hard work and maintain their honor in front of Grimnir. As Johark continued to hesitate, the crowd suddenly made way for a single person to enter the shop.

“Yo, Johark.” Dressed similarly like a blacksmith, only with a shirt on, the beardless man waved at the owner of the Tunging Hammer.

“Daniel?” Johark responded. According to the crowd, Daniel was the owner of the Iron Crevasse. “What are you doing here?”

“What else but agreeing to a high-profile customer’s request. Lady Shrine Maiden, you’re speaking about a ton of B rank materials, yeah? No jest?”

I nodded.

“That’s all I needed to hear! Makes my blood boil in anticipation of what I can work with. Whatever comes out of that is something Bleidla will definitely acknowledge! If you’re starting a competition for the best blacksmith to make your armor, then the number one forge in all Cedaraille should be the one fighting for the commission!” He then turned back to Johark, smirking similarly as Grimnir. “Come on, Johark, or is speaking all you can do, huh? We’re both apprentices of Master Hreik, the best blacksmith in the whole kingdom. Where is your pride as a blacksmith, huh, or are you gonna throw in the towel against somebody without [Blacksmith’s Appraisal]?”

“Whoooo? Hreik?” Grimnir expressed his interest. “Now that’s a human even a dwarf can respect. Somebody willing to go nights without food just to finish a piece of armor. If you two are his apprentices, then I really did underestimate the blacksmiths in this city … Or you’re just another two who assume working a year under him makes you an apprentice. Ha!”

Those words were the deciding point. Johark returned a stare filled with furious commitment, accepting Grimnir’s challenge. “If either of us wins, you will bow and apologize for all your hubris. One of us will take the commission and you can wallow somewhere Bleidla can’t see you.”

“Ha! If I lose, I’ll give up on blacksmithing entirely. However, if I win, you two will loan me your hammers and allow me to use your forge to create my own hammer. No complaints, no crying.”

The rules were simple.

D rank slazzanbal scales, iron, and eoriant were the only materials they were able to use to produce a single slazzanbal scalemail for evaluation. We decided on only the scalemail simply ‘cause a full set of scale armor would take far too long. The competitors were only allowed to use an ordinary hammer to smith. This was a competition to test out the blacksmith’s skill, technique, knowledge, and dexterity, after all, and not who had the best gear.

Making the competition fair by removing sources of skill-boosting bonuses was our way to give Grimnir as many advantages as possible. All three blacksmiths must rely on their skill alone to win. Of course, there was still the hurdle of [Blacksmith’s Appraisal]—Grimnir was the only one of the three who didn’t have it—which allowed you to properly assess everything you need to know while forging. The temperature of the fire, the heat of the metal, the locations to hit, how much strength should be placed into every hit, and so many more variables.

The competition was set outside on the streets, where three portable forges, anvils, water buckets, and tools were laid for the three competitors. The competition was set outside under the sunny sky as the workshops’ forges were too small to fit all the onlookers. Johark and Daniel each seemed determined to beat Grimnir and their rival. All to make their name known as the best blacksmith in Cedaraille, turning this competition into the challenge to determine who the best was, once and for all.

Technically, we weren’t allowed to do this. The streets belonged to the city’s administration and we required a permit to have a forging contest outside the workshops, but I guess I could deal with it if we got into trouble. Sometimes knowing the local lord of the city did pay off.

I was a bit worried for Grimnir, since the two others had an advantage with [Blacksmith’s Appraisal], but this was also a proper assessment for him. Up until now, we’ve only been working with Grimnir under the assumption that he was good. He was knowledgeable, but could he forge Ellaine’s armor? Trust was necessary, but Grimnir had to show us if he was worth all the effort.

He nodded back, understanding my concern.

“Sanctuary.” A light barrier surrounded the area around the forges, stunning everybody when I cast it. “No cheating allowed. Please, let us make this a proper competition in the eyes of Goddess Aurena, Goddess Crustacia, and God Bleidla.”

“Umslid fie Bleidla!” (Honor to Bleidla!) All three shouted in unison, raising their hammers into the sky.

Fires burst into action inside all three forges as the blacksmiths shoved split wooden logs into them, increasing the size and temperature of their flames with every push of their bellows. The fires consumed the oxygen, and the crowd was in awe at how fast the flames were growing. [Sanctuary] still let air through its barrier, unlike [Air Shield], so the sound of the crackling wood, the roar of the flames, and the heat produced by this were experienced by the whole crowd.

The blacksmiths handled the flames masterfully, according to the employees of the Tunging Hammer. They explained to me that a blacksmith’s first goal was to build up the fire as hot as they could endure to heat up metal faster. Logically. That was when Daniel and Johark stopped, sweat was covering their faces as they took some of the scales and placed them into a stone mortar, grinding each of them dexterously into dust.

They then transfered the powdered scales into a crucible before placing it into the forge, slowly melting the dust. Up next was the eoriant, heated up until the metal was glowing a bright yellow. Both blacksmiths took out the mortar and eoriant ingot simultaneously before placing it on their anvil. The top of the ingot was then covered in the red dust of the slazzanbal scales, before they picked up their hammer …

… and slammed it down, right onto the ingot.

“OooooOOOHHH!” The crowd awed once again.

Clang. Clang. Clang. Clang. Clang.

The sound of metal being bashed echoed through the street. Johark’s and Daniel’s arms were moving at an incredible pace, pounding the dust into the metal over and over again to the point the sound of metal clashing with each other was being mixed together. Metal flakes were flying around like confetti as the ingot was being shaped into a sheet of eoriant.

Hammer, reheat, hammer, reheat, hammer, reheat, the process was smooth, every motion was made with confidence in their craft and skill. [Mana Eyes] showed me how they were focusing their mana into their hammers like a warrior, strengthening their hits with it. Their focus was glued to their respected station, never wandering for one second to their rivals. They were trapped in their own world, a world where only fire and the ringing of metal could exist.

When I turned to Grimnir to see how he was doing, I noticed he was still fiddling with the flames. Although I wasn’t a professional thermostat, the heat radiating from Daniel’s and Johark’s furnaces seemed similar in temperature, probably warmer than what I experienced on floor 15 and below in the dungeon.

Grimnir’s forge, on the other hand, was going beyond theirs. The onlookers closest to Grimnir had to step back, unable to endure the heat. Tasianna also had to step away from me, as she didn’t want to jeopardize any of the contestants with her ice spells. However, Grimnir wasn’t done yet; once enough logs were inside, the taz took a deep breath before bellowing a stream of fire into the forge.

Undoubtedly, Grimnir’s forge was the hottest amongst all three. When he began to sweat, that was when Grimnir finally smiled. Even I could feel the heat. I wasn’t sweating like Grimnir but the temperature was probably around what I could produce if I was being lazy. Similar to his competitors, he took the scales and began grounding them into a mortar; however, unlike them, he ground all of them before placing the mortar into the furnace.

Watching him work, I could see that the crushed scales were melting at a similar rate, however, instead of putting the bar of eoriant into the furnace, Grimnir picked the ingot with his tongs, placed it on the anvil and blasted a flame breath at it, heating the metal up until it glowed in mere seconds. Without a single delay, he grabbed his hammer, infused mana into it, and swung it!

Clang!

“Shit, that’s when a taz dwarf has the advantage,” one of Daniel’s blacksmith’s commented, entranced at how Grimnir was working.

If Johark’s and Daniel’s hammer swings were as fast as a proficient spear wielder, then Grimnir’s was similar to a master’s. Even without [Blacksmith’s Appraisal], his swings were heavy and accurate, denting the ingot in the right spots. Three hammer swings per second while turning the ingot around with the tongs. The sound of metal rocking on the anvil rang throughout the street nonstop.

As the heat began to fade on the ingot, Grimnir’s mouth opened up and unleashed another flame breath. His arms did not rest though, always swinging to mold the ingot into his ideal form. Three blacksmith masters, all working without a single break, kept swinging their hammers onto the metal. This was a blacksmith ASMR.

“Hey, but isn’t he forgetting the scales?” The onlookers were right. The scales were still melting inside Grimnir’s furnace. The goal was to create scalemail with those slazzanbal scales, not a normal eoriant scalemail.

Suddenly Grimnir’s hammer suddenly stopped swinging. Leaving the ingot and his hammer on the anvil, he suddenly picked it up and placed it right in front of the furnace, the heat fluttering the little amount of orange hair still left on Grimnir’s scalp. With his tongs, he took the mortar out of the furnace and with one quick movement, he splashed a small amount of the liquid scales onto the ingot before returning it to the forge and continued hammering.

The technique was different compared to Johark and Daniel, to everybody’s shock. Both artisans’ focus was broken as they looked over at Grimnir’s work, curious about the new technique, before they shook their heads and regained their focus almost immediately. Grimnir, on the other hand, was unperturbed by everything. As he hammered the melted scales into the ingot, he then bent the ingot and placed one half over the other.

Personally, I was quite mesmerized by the blacksmith’s work. The rhythmic hammering was extremely satisfying. Sadly, Tasianna couldn’t share the same excitement for it as I did, deciding to brew me some tea to entertain herself. That was when Grimnir’s hammer broke.

It now became obvious why Grimnir insisted for a better hammer, as his smithing style required one which could withstand his flame breath. The hammering sounds from his station stopped for a moment as he picked up another hammer and continued.

“Bring another hammer for Mister Grimnir, please!” I asked Johark’s blacksmiths, who complied without arguing.

Any animosity they had for Grimnir was gone, replaced by respect and amazement. Similarly to me, they couldn’t keep their eyes from these masters’ performances. Like sponges, they were eagerly absorbing the hours of experience presented before them.

Time flew by and a few of the onlookers had to return to work. A few guards even tried to interrupt the competition, but I simply bluffed my way through it, telling them the Duke of Cedaraille wouldn’t mind it. Ever since Saori added a few more details to my white robes, nobody had second-guessed whether I was a noble. Nothing was interrupting this match on my watch.

Grimnir’s flame breath and speed of hammering meant he was the first to finish using up all the ingots and scales, displaying several shimmering, light red eoriant sheets on his workbench. It was now time to turn them into scales. With every piece Grimnir cut out, he would heat it up and hammer it into its sparkling final form. Grimnir had called his hands too clumsy for artificer work, but that wasn’t the case for blacksmithing. With his flame breath and hammering efficiency, Johark and Daniel couldn’t keep up.

The sky was almost turning orange as the master smiths continued their work. A handful of clattering light red scales was falling from Grimnir’s hands as he finally was done with the sheets of eoriant. He then took the last piece of eoriant ingot and quickly turned it into a thin metal string. He wrapped it around a metal rod while it was red hot and cut all of them into small rings.

When the sky had finished turning completely orange, Grimnir was finally done stringing all the metal scales with the rings, presenting a light scalemail able to cover as much as a T-shirt. Johark and Daniel were done with their works about half a bell alter, and theirs also looked brilliant. Unfortunately, the results the system gave me were different.

“Dammit!”

“Fuck!”

Johark’s was the first and Daniel’s was the second. Compared to the armor from those Black Orc Knights I salvaged, the scalemail had around 300 Vitality Power and 100 Wisdom Power less, but that was to be expected, this was just a piece of scalemail compared to the full plated armor the orcs had. There were slight deviations between the two, but the armor was still around the same. It would have been hard for me to judge if those were my only options.

Thankfully, Grimnir did not disappoint.

“This is my token of trust. You placed your trust in me despite everything you heard and saw about me. You risked your life to acquire a piece of rock in the depths of a life-threatening dungeon, where we all could have lost our lives against the monsters there. You even saved my life,” Grimnir handed me the scalemail, bowing to me in respect. “Armor is supposed to be worn. I tried to adjust from sight alone, but it’ll probably still be a bit loose. Please, wear it, Hestia.”

I agreed. I handed Tasianna my robe and had her help me put it on. As Grimnir said, the scalemail was a bit too large for me. It went right past my hips and ended at my thighs, however, the sleeves were a good fit. It felt comfortable; the clinking of the scales wasn’t too loud and instead felt satisfying.

“It’s great,” I smiled.

That was when Grimnir kneeled down. Tasianna, recognizing something was up, quickly cast [Air Shield] around Grimnir and us to block anything from leaving the bubble.

“Dragon Princess Hestia Atsuko Kargrxymor, for saving my life, I, Grimnir from the Luedbrumdar clan of the Ankor-Nazta, the Ankoran Mountain Ranges, am honor-bound to fulfill my promise to you,” Grimnir suddenly stated, surprising me with his actions.

“You already told me, I know that. But why are you kneeling Grimnir. Don’t tell me … Uhm, you technically don’t need to do that to fulfill your promise, you know?” I replied, flabbergasted at what I assumed Grimnir was intending with this.

“Yes, I know. However, the time we have together will probably not be enough for me to feel satisfied with myself. Your original commission was for the lass Ellaine, armor fit to protect her. That I will deliver for you, however, what about for you? What about for Saori? What about for Tasianna? I’ve thought about it since you saved me and when I fought side-by-side with Saori and Tasianna.” Grimnir then turned his head up, looking me straight into my eyes. “To fulfill my promise, I must travel with you.”

“I understand, however, what about yourself? I don’t intend to turn you into a slave or something and dragging you along purely for that reason would be stupid. Mister Grimnir, while I understand your reasoning and I thank you very much for your selflessness, I can’t take you on when you aren’t benefiting from traveling with us.”

“You’re wrong.” Grimnir’s eyes sharpened, focusing on me intently. “I was exiled from my clan and dishonored by losing my crust’locks and [Blacksmith’s Appraisal] because I displeased Bleidla by trying to recreate one of the Revolution Queen’s creations, the gun, with a good friend of mine. Broggi Luedbrumdar, my cousin, was the creator of the blasthammer I wield.”

Bleidla, the God of Blacksmiths and Volcanoes, was one of the most active gods in Peolynca, always watching his blacksmiths hammer away and creating new equipment to inspire him. As such, he was profligate when it came to spreading his blessing, even honoring blacksmith workshops who caught his attention. Although he was once a subordinate of Shiterno, despite being a dwarf, he switched over to Crustacia when he realized how poorly Shiterno’s ideals and actions aligned with his own.

However, that didn’t mean Bleidla was a fully benevolent god. As he was a taz dwarf when he was a mortal, he could be extremely grumpy with terrible mood swings. He was known as a god who would punish blacksmiths and strip them of his blessing if they ever displeased him. Even going so far as punishing entire guild branches if they ever shamed themselves terribly.

The Revolution Queen, also known as Chihiro, the Goddess of Change, Ingenuity, and Ambition, was the creator of a blueprint for the gun. It was unfinished and it was declared sacrilegious to ever finish it by Bleidla’s will. Grimnir explained that there were testimonials of Chihiro of how she believed being responsible for bringing the gun to Peolynca wasn’t something she wanted, as such, she left the blueprints unfinished.

The Divine System also did not support gun and cannon skills, as Bleidla declared he had forbidden it. While cannons were allowed, guns could not be created, as the former was already in creation during Chihiro’s life. When Grimnir and his cousin, Broggi, tried to recreate the gun, they were both dishonored and exiled.

“Bleidla is jealous of Goddess Chihiro, that is what I believe. During the lifetime of the Revolution Queen, many inventions were created, primarily manatech, to the point all dwarven artificers pray to her during their inventions’ first activation. My cousin lost his life last year, when we tried to garner back his trust and blessing. That stubborn bladdarg cursed us!” Grimnir slammed his fist into the ground before calming himself to explain the reason why he actually wants to come with Aurora. “My promise to you would also benefit me. I can create equipment inspired by two otherworlders, while you would benefit from my skills as a blacksmith and runesmith. When I display these creations for all to see, I wish for Bleidla to feel envious and angry for losing a skilled taz like me! In addition, I want to finish my cousin’s masterpiece, his blasthammer. My hands aren’t like his, I am not an inko like him, so I intend to teach whoever wishes to learn from a master artificer’s documents.”

Ellaine! She’ll have a tutor!

Grimnir then placed his hand on his chest, straightened his back, and spoke in a clear voice, “Princess Hestia, once again, I will make you the offer. Allow me to serve you as your personal blacksmith and runesmith! Allow me to join Aurora as its fifth member!”

I looked over at Tasianna to hear her response, to which she smiled and nodded vigorously.

I giggled a bit, before turning back to Grimnir. “You meant the ninth member. We have four garms, don’t forget.”—Tasianna then dispelled the air bubble, allowing everybody to hear my next words—“You’re hired!”

Things calmed down from thereon, at least, between Grimnir and the blacksmiths of Cedaraille. While Grimnir won in the end, both Johark and Daniel were ecstatic to watch him work, asking if he could show his skills to them more, intending to use him as a way to train up their employees while also bettering themselves. Grimnir accepted it, after all, he still had to make his new hammer.

I handed over some voldunna ore, corrosive obsidian, and some of my scales to Grimnir. He intended to first create a placement hammer with Johark’s hammer and then finish a hammer using the voldunna core I gave him. This took a while. About four days, actually, but what came out was something Grimnir couldn’t help but brag about.

I had already told Ellaine and Saori about Grimnir joining us and that we will most likely renovate his RV to fit all of us. Both agreed to my decision, believing a blacksmith would be a great addition to Aurora. Ellaine was especially ecstatic as she gained an artificer tutor aside from her mother, and also a traveling method that didn’t involve her having to walk.

This girl … I should probably force her to walk next to the damn RV at this rate! She needs to build up stamina!

After the four days were over, Yorshka also returned from her trip to Firwood. “The Misfits aren’t done yet, we have some more free time people!”

Yorshka had sent a message to her clan to be delivered to my dragon “mother.” The Magical Biscuits decided to spend time with Saori. Me? Well, Tasianna, Ellaine, Grimnir, Yorshka, and I decided to enter the dungeon’s depths again.

It was time for me to finally learn about my draconic heritage.

AbyssRaven Boom, boom, boom! Fifth member of Aurora! I bet all of you thought the fifth member would have been a girl, right?

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