Chapter 6

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Translator: MadScientist

Chapter: 6

Chapter Title: My Armor Destroyed the Hunter Ecosystem

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'Making armor is on a whole different level from weapons.'

I roughly wiped the sweat dripping down my forehead.

Weapons embodied the aesthetics of destruction, purely designed to slice through enemies. Armor, on the other hand, demanded the philosophy of guardianship, wrapping around and protecting human life.

Leather, steel, mithril, and so on...

Each material had its own unique properties.

Leather needed to be tough yet flexible, while steel had to be hard without hindering the wearer's movements. Fusing these contradictory conditions through fire and hammer strikes was an incredibly demanding task. Blindly pounding away wouldn't cut it.

"Do-ha."

When I called out, the transparent figure silently working the bellows across from me lifted its head.

My clone.

This guy couldn't speak, but he read my intentions and breathing with uncanny precision. When I raised my right hand, he supported with his left—like a perfect mirror and partner.

"Now let's make our armor. You know this isn't some half-assed job."

The clone nodded, cranking up the forge's flames until blue fire roared fiercely.

This thing had monstrous stamina, working 24/7 without sleep or fatigue. Seeing that silent back made it impossible for me to slack off.

Clang, clang, clang, clang.

Rhythmic sounds echoed through the forge.

Not mere noise, but the primal, vivid heartbeat born from metal clashing against metal.

The items piled up like a mountain in one corner of the workshop.

Each one boasted performance far superior to mass-produced gear sold on the market. Any F-grade hunter would lose their mind and charge at the sight of them.

But something still felt lacking to me.

They all fell into the usable supply category, but that nagging sense of them being 2% short of instilling true confidence in saving lives wouldn't go away.

'Just once.'

The thrilling sensation at my fingertips, etched into my soul.

Just once, let a true great success explode properly.

I steadied my breath and placed a red-hot steel ingot on the anvil.

Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!

Sparks flew every time the hammer sliced through the air.

Thousands, tens of thousands of strikes.

Impurities hidden in the metal were driven out, replaced by my mana and will seeping densely into the voids.

'Harder, even harder.'

It was the moment I hammered the breastplate of the plate armor.

It hit!

Different from the sharp thrill of crafting weapons.

This was a heavy, majestic sensation, like a massive mountain range flowing through my hands.

An absolute sense of stability that could block anything enveloped my entire body.

Armor that protects people.

An impregnable fortress against any attack.

My earnest will melted into the red-hot metal through the hammer,

and the system guided the way as I swung the final strike along that path of light.

Now!

CRASH!!!

A clear, world-shaking explosion rang out, and a dazzling silver pillar of light swallowed the forge.

"Holy... shit."

Options stacked ten lines deep.

Normal F-grade items had 1-2 options, 3 at most. This was endless-scroll territory.

And not a single junk option—all pure, dream-tier picks for any tank.

I immediately summoned Shadow.

"Chief! Come out for a sec!"

Whoosh.

Irmi rose silently from the shadows.

"What is it, Do-ha? Intruders?"

"No, something scarier than intruders."

I silently showed her the armor I'd just made.

Silver-white and gleaming, mana pulsed faintly through its surface like veins.

"Hah..."

Even Irmi, the unflappable chief, was speechless.

To the eyes of an elf who'd lived centuries, this defied the world's common sense.

Ten options, all directly tied to survival.

"This... is F-grade gear?"

Her trembling hand gently caressed the armor.

"A working B-grade tank could graduate with this. Hell, an A-grade sub-tank wouldn't bat an eye."

"That good?"

"The number's insane, but the composition? Nuts. Barrier and Shock Absorption? That's like carrying two extra lives."

Irmi pulled out her communicator with a grave expression.

"Convene the guild leaders immediately. This is beyond me. Could spark a war if mishandled."

A short while later, in the association's top-floor conference room.

"Heh, Irmi calling us all? Sun must be rising in the west."

"Not just any call—probably another killer item."

The seven guild leaders of Korea gathered.

Irmi placed the silver-white armor on the central table with a solemn look.

"Do-ha made this just now. Armor."

"Yeah, that blacksmith pumps out good stuff. But what, how amazing to drag us busy folks here?"

The guild leaders feigned nonchalance, activating emotion-detection skills.

And then...

"......"

"......"

"......"

Heavy silence.

Their pupils shook like there was an earthquake.

Not even a gulp broke the tension.

Even these battle-hardened heroes were seeing this for the first time.

Famous master smiths' masterpieces topped out at 3 effective options—4 was a stroke of genius, 5 a family heirloom.

This had ten.

All pure gold: defense, resistance, skills, convenience—everything a tank dreamed of, crammed into one piece.

Beyond unreasonable.

'Wanna kidnap him for real.'

'With him, we'd reclaim rank 1.'

'F-grade slapping B-grade in the face.'

'Great success or not, he's turning into a monster.'

Greed gleamed in their eyes.

Polite smiles outside, but inside? Schemes to poach the blacksmith—kidnap if needed.

"Where's Do-ha?"

"Made a masterpiece like this—throw a celebration party."

"Our guild's chef cooks great. Dinner together...?"

"Enough."

A cold voice sliced the room.

Shadow Aura, alive and menacing.

As she stepped forward,

the entire room's air grew oppressively heavy.

Rumble...

Killing intent ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠blanketed the conference.

Sylphsong alone.

Black shadows rose like heat haze around her—not mere mana, but darkness devouring space itself.

'That woman's a real monster now.'

'Even Mitu Guild Leader can't match her anymore.'

The guild leaders flinched back at her show of force. Instinctual fear.

She snapped coldly.

"You're all plotting to kidnap Do-ha in your heads, aren't you? Dream on."

"N-no, Sylphsong, you think we'd...? Haha."

"We all help each other in this world—cooperation's key! Cooperation!"

Guilty coughs all around.

Sylphsong eyed them pitifully, driving the nail in.

"Lee Do-ha is a public good. Try to monopolize him, and I won't stand by."

Blackmail, plain and simple.

No one could argue. Her power was unmatched save for the Association President.

One blink from her, and heads could roll.

"Then... let's ask Do-ha and auction the great success gear."

A compromise emerged.

Auction? More like the start of a bloody money war.

At the same time, outside the association building.

"S-spare m—" Splat.

A villain crumpled amid spraying blood.

A-grade hunter Choi Min-seok shook blood from his sword and clicked his tongue.

"Tch, these pest bastards never get boring?"

"They keep swarming non-stop."

He fondled the sword at his side.

A weapon recently distributed by the association.

He'd dismissed it as F-grade at first, but after using it? Total reversal.

'No way—my stagnant mana for a year is rising.'

A strange sensation flowed through his hand every villain kill.

Like the sword sucked their life force and passed it to him.

Incoming damage softened, and the blade molded perfectly to his grip over time.

'If this gets widespread... the hunter landscape changes.'

A chance for F- and E-grades to keep growing.

Now he got why the top brass treated that blacksmith like a deity.

Then.

An urgent notice flashed on the association's billboard.

It wasn't just the F-grade ecosystem—the entire Korean hunter world was transforming rapidly.

All because of one blacksmith.

This was how it should have been from the start.

Dying over gear was the real abnormality.

Another small miracle from the blacksmith.