As soon as Leon exited the Dungeon, he noticed that all the mist had cleared up, and now the sun was shining brightly in the sky. However, despite the clear skies, the winds blowing around were still really cold and freezing, biting into his skin with every step he took.
‘It’s cold… Adaptive Body.’ Leon thought as he activated the skill.
[Adjusting Host’s Body Temprature]
In just a moment, Leon felt no more cold.
His boots crunched softly against the frozen ground beneath.
As he continued walking, Leon noticed a party of adventurers moving towards the forest with slow, heavy steps, their faces painted with sadness.
Leon instinctively maintained his distance from them, not wanting to attract unnecessary attention, but his sharp ears still managed to catch fragments of their conversation as they passed by.
“This is not good, man… If this kept going, we will lose the war,” one of them said, his voice filled with despair.
“Yeah, those Elves are bringing too many mages,” another replied, his tone grim.
“I heard that there are some Elves hiding in the Royal Castle as spies, giving them information,” a third adventurer muttered, glancing around nervously.
“Losing 300 men in a single day is too much. I don’t want to get enslaved by some fucking Elves,” another one spat bitterly.
Leon’s expression turned thoughtful as he absorbed their words.
‘Ah… I forgot that the Human Kingdom is in a war with the Elf Kingdom. But… Did they really lose 300 men to some Elves?
In the mangas that I read back on Earth, these creatures were always portrayed as the wisest and most peaceful beings,’ Leon thought to himself, his brows furrowing slightly.
Leon kept moving forward. As he reached the kingdom’s outer gate and stepped inside, a heavy, suffocating silence enveloped him. He immediately noticed how different everything felt. The lively chatter and hustle that usually filled the streets were gone.
The market was silent, and every face he saw looked heavy with grief, sorrow casting a long shadow over the bustling kingdom he had seen yesterday. Even the vendors, who were normally shouting to attract customers, sat quietly behind their stalls, their heads bowed low.
Leon’s steps carried him further into the middle of the city, curiosity gnawing at him. Then, he noticed a group of people gathered near the fountain in the southern market.
They were lighting candles and kneeling in silent prayer. Curious, Leon approached carefully, not wanting to disturb the people. As he neared the fountain, he peeked down at what they were doing and saw writings beneath the candles.
There were names, countless names scrawled around the base of the fountain—the names of the deceased in the ongoing war.
‘K. Catherine, Kraus Kon, Remedy L. Kolank…’ Leon started reading the names, but he quickly realized there were far too many for him to read them all. They circled the entire fountain, written in shaky, sorrowful handwriting.
Leon slowly closed his eyes, standing silently for a moment, offering his respects to the fallen. Then, without a word, he continued walking forward…
Eventually, he arrived at Dekkn’s Smithy and knocked on the door.
*Knock-Knock*
*Click*
The dwarf from last time peeked through the slightly opened door, his expression neutral.
“You? Again? What do you want?” he asked in his heavy voice.
“I want you to make me a weapon,” Leon said with a smile.
“We already talked about this, kid. Did you bring a D-rank or higher dungeon core?” the dwarf asked, confused.
“No, but—”
“Then go to another blacksmith and—” the dwarf began speaking as he started closing the door.
Leon quickly stuck his foot in to stop it.
“What the hell are you doing, kid?” the dwarf growled, glaring.
“I have money,” Leon said, revealing a pouch bulging with coins.
The dwarf scowled but opened the door fully. “Bollocks… Come in and shut the damn door.”
“Hehe,” Leon smiled, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.
“Look, kid… If you want a magic sword, there’s stuff I’ll need and—”
“I don’t want a sword,” Leon interrupted, grinning.
“Hm? Then what?” The Dwarf asked with a confused expression.
Leon reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He unfolded it and handed it to the dwarf.
“I want you to make this.”
The dwarf’s curiosity was instantly piqued. He grabbed the paper and studied it closely.
“Hm… What kind of weapon is this? I’ve never seen anything like it,” he muttered.
“Can you make it?” Leon asked.
The dwarf scratched his beard. “It’ll be tough… but now that I know how hard it’ll be, I want to craft it even more.”
“So… you’ll do it?” Leon asked with a smile.
“Yes. But not for the money,” the dwarf said, his eyes gleaming with determination. “I’m doing this for the sake of my craft.”
Leon smirked. “So… you’re not taking any payment?”
“Ten silver,” the dwarf grunted. “Five now, five when it’s done.”
‘Why don’t you just rip off my skin instead?’ Leon thought, feeling the pain in his heart. ‘I only got 30 silver coins from the Chief’s House… But, I want him to craft this weapon because…’
<Inspect>
[Name: Gerald Lon Kiggester]
[Class: Blacksmith]
[Race: Dwarf]
[HP: 70,000/70,000]
[MP: 35,000/35,000]
[Title: {Legendary Blacksmith} {The Castaway} {Elder Craftsman} {Last Creator} {Cursed Weapon Crafter} {Crafting Specialist}]
[Description: Gerald was once a renowned blacksmith in the Dwarf Kingdom, but due to his forbidden cursed weapon crafting techniques, he was exiled and declared dead.
Now he lives anonymously in the Human Kingdom, crafting only enough to survive day by day.]
‘At first, I almost left when he told me to go find another blacksmith… but thankfully, my instincts told me to use Inspect on him. And what I saw was amazing…’
‘I’ve used Inspect on dozens of people, and I’ve never seen even a single title before. But him? He’s carrying six—and they’re all insane titles except the castaway one.’
‘He’s a fucking legendary blacksmith. If he crafts my weapon… the quality will be unmatched.
I don’t fucking care about the money if he is making the weapon.’ Leon thought, grinning.