Episode 79: Night Fairy Arsenal and Battlefield Resolve
"Then I'll be off."
"Yep. Oh, Giena. Could you grab a jug of milk on your way back?"
"Sure."
Giena gives a small nod and heads out the door toward the guild. Left alone in the house, I stretch out luxuriously before descending to the basement.
It used to be Kernax's training ground, but after the renovations, it's just a vast, empty space with nothing in it. Tucked in one corner of that expansive underground room are ten heavy-looking sacks lined up.
Last night, some folks sent by the administrator quietly dropped by, hauled these down here, and left.
"305 people, huh."
I pry open the mouth of one sack and plunge my hand inside.
"Holy Artifact material storage."
◎ Pure Iron: 481kg
◎ Kang Wood: 2.3kg
"Whoa..."
I gape at the numbers floating before my eyes.
Roughly 480 kilos per sack—at least 400 if I'm lowballing it. From a regular blacksmith's perspective, it might not seem like much. But I'm no regular blacksmith. I'm the fucking awesome Smith who wields a fucking awesome ability.
"400 per sack? For real?"
Even if I crank out Night Fairies generously at 2kg each, that's 200 pairs from one sack. An insane amount.
"If they really go all-in on screwing me over... might even be enough to buy a whole city."
Of course, I'd need a private workshop where no one bats an eye. But honestly, just asking Kernax to keep letting me use this place seems like the best bet.
"Alright, let's whip up 20 for starters."
Since each sack had exactly 20 ingots.
"Told big sis it'd be v1.0, but I won't relax until it's at least mk.2."
I boldly produce 20 Night Fairies (2kg).
The convenience of a few clicks. Honestly, before I figured this ability out and hooked up with Siron, I was cursing and hating the shit out of God Company for flinging me into this world. Now? I'm just fucking grateful.
Sure, I wonder about my parents sometimes, but the前辈s whose souls are out on dispatch said not to worry about family, so I don't stress it much.
"Hmm... arms too, right?"
I recall how big sis showed me the full potential of my stockings a few days back. She begged me never to make full-body ones, so that's off the table. But like she said, slipping them on arms, torsos, or even shields would make soldiers way safer.
"Wait, arms and wrapping the body... separate leg/arm pieces would be way more versatile than pantyhose-style, huh?"
What a dumbass Smith, you fucking retard. Why the hell didn't I think of that sooner? Why was I so hung up on pantyhose?
I sigh at my own patheticness and dissolve all 20 stockings back into materials.
"Okay... this is for combat, not fashion, so simple design's fine."
I open a new design slot, sketch quick thigh-high stockings, and crank out 20 fresh ones.
"Yeah. Perfect. So much easier."
I pull them up over both legs and arms to test. Legs feel great, but hands are awkward—the finger spots are too flat.
Wiggle wiggle.
I stare at the stocking on my hand.
"Make it like toe socks... turns into short gloves, right?"
Looks better too, and I could market it as arm wear, not leg stuff.
"Rough sketch, but let's see if it works."
First, does it even generate? I tweak the foot part roughly for fingers.
"It works."
Even though I drew it for fingers over toes, it comes out perfect. I'm doubly amazed at the system's generosity—one for being more lenient than expected, and two...
"Fuck, gotta promote quick."
No matter how I slice it, the gap between max level and noob is ridiculous.
"Anyway, legs and arms are sorted. Torso next."
I plop down and rack my brain on how to wrap the body stylishly with these.
"Hmm. Best bet: slice one in half and layer it under clothes."
No matter how I brainstorm, nothing covers these women's massive racks elegantly. After racking my brain, I conclude halving a stocking, wrapping the torso, and pinning it under snug clothes is optimal.
"So, one leg piece, one arm piece, one torso half. Three stockings per soldier."
Don't forget separate design slots for each. I produce 60 distinct Night Fairies (2kg) total.
◎ Pure Iron: 361kg
◎ Kang Wood: 2.3kg
Materials left over like my conscience is pricking me.
"Where to stash these, though."
Dumping on the floor feels off. Short deliberation: I empty two more sacks, divvying up the three types into three sacks and stashing them aside.
"Time to head up and make lunch."
With Kernax's house fixed, Siron swings by at lunch for my cooking before heading out—routine now. I hustle to the stairs so I'm not late.
—Smith!!
"Huh?"
Halfway up the stairs, Kernax's super urgent yell startles me. What the—? Not Siron, but Kernax calling like that?
Fuck, did some huge shit hit the fan?
Matching her panic, I bolt up the stairs.
"Kernax!! I'm at the basement stairs!!"
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Kernax—who's never run in the house—thunders toward me with massive footsteps.
"Smith!!"
"Y-yeah. Right here."
She's run so hard, sweat beads on her face, bangs plastered messily to her forehead.
"Smith!! What the hell is that supposed to mean!!"
"I haven't said shit?"
I'm baffled as she grabs both my shoulders and yells.
"Why the fuck would you follow me there!!"
"Wha—huh?"
"Absolutely not!! Stay home and wait like a good boy!!"
Now I know what Kernax looks like truly pissed. Scarier than Siron in full rage mode.
Squeeze—!!
"Nngh... Kernax. Let go first."
"...Haa."
I wince, and she sighs deeply, releasing my shoulders.
"......"
"......"
Heavy silence. Really heavy.
I got no clue what to say. Never dreamed she'd flip out this hard over me tagging along.
"Um... Kernax."
"...Sorry for yelling."
"Nah, it's fine."
Startled me pretty good, but that's it. And knowing it's all worry for me? Kinda touching, actually.
"Smith. Why follow me?"
"Well... you're worrying me too."
"I'm fine. I'm fine, so... if you care about me, wait here."
"......"
"Smith."
She grabs my hands, eyes pleading. I'm this close to saying okay.
Honestly, she's 100% right. If I were a normal Smith. But the main reason I'm going isn't her safety.
Me tagging along won't make her safer or let me help in a pinch.
The real reason? I wanna see firsthand how my stockings perform on the battlefield. So I can chime in on pricing properly.
I explain this to her.
"Then you don't need to leave the city. Spar with adventurers or demo on soldiers right now."
"Kernax. You know that's not what I want."
"You're... such a guy, why are you so goddamn fearless!! It's been how many days since the heretics kidnapped you?!"
"......"
No, you gonna pull out the Gabulki card here? Can't argue heretics—I got nabbed in the guild backyard, after all.
"Still..."
"I say no. If you insist, Smith—no supplies from you!!"
"Kernax?"
I'm stunned. She strips off her iron greaves and shin guards, then her pants.
"...Won't wear this either."
She peels off the stockings I gifted her and shoves them at me. Even in this serious moment, her warm, body-scented stockings make my junk twitch.
Anyway, she's dead set against me coming. No waver in her eyes.
I glance at the stockings in my hand, then her toned thighs.
"...Ahem."
She notices my stare—still got her wits—and hurriedly dresses.
"...Smith. Your answer?"
First time she's ordered me like that.
"No."
"...What?"
"Kernax. Honestly, I think I'm a fucking dumbass brute sometimes. But even this dumbass sees you're being unreasonable."
"Not..."
"It is. Did I ask soldiers to guard me if I tag along? No. And what if I do? You gonna withhold Night Fairies from the troops? Still can't believe that came out of your mouth."
"......"
We lock eyes, staring daggers in silence.
"...I said it clear, Smith."
"Me too. Crystal."
Looks like neither of us is budging.
That's when—
Grrrooowl.
"......"
"......"
Not my stomach, FYI. I stare at Kernax. Watch her face flush red in real time.
"A-anyway, absolutely not!!"
She yells one more time and bolts out the house.
"...What the actual fuck is her deal?"
I eye the half-open door, realizing I need to think seriously about this.