Chapter 407
Chapter 407
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 407
Chapter Title: New Weapon (1)
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‘Demigod status really is something else.’
Even investing five million divinity only allowed for one or two clashes? Then how much divinity must have been consumed during that previous manifestation?
It was probably not just the achievements from the massacre, but additional divinity from Gale as well.
And just how much divinity did Gale possess to handle that so effortlessly?
Rokan considered asking, but quickly dismissed the thought. Knowing wouldn’t change anything.
There was no point burdening a god with meaningless talk or whining about regrets.
“As I mentioned earlier, I can’t be certain that guy’s still holed up there. But knowing him as I do, he probably hasn’t abandoned his base. I’ll mark the location on the map you have.”
With a casual wave of his hand, Gale caused a light to envelop Rokan’s body. More precisely, a marker appeared on the magical map inside his inventory.
“Thank you.”
“But it won’t be easy. He’s a stubborn bastard. He even tried to act tough with me, so he might flat-out refuse no matter what.”
“Hmm, so how did you handle it? Did you give him a quest or something?”
“Nah, I just trashed the place.”
“......”
“When I threatened to smash his workshop if he didn’t make it, he caved. The guy wouldn’t budge at threats to kill him, but wrecking some facilities? He handed it over. Pretty ridiculous, but that’s him for you.”
“Ah, I see.”
It was so very Gale-like.
But Rokan’s situation was different.
There was no guarantee the same rampage would work for him, and without a proper weapon, he had no confidence in beating someone who’d amassed divinity over countless years.
If the guy had been around since Gale’s days as a demigod, his mastery of divinity would far outstrip Rokan’s.
Having grasped even a sliver of divinity’s potential himself, Rokan’s caution was only natural.
“Then I’ll take my leave. I’m in a bit of a hurry myself.”
“See you later. If you don’t want to get tangled up with those annoying bastards coming this way, you’d better hurry.”
“......!”
Rokan tensed at Gale’s parting words.
They’re already here?
He quickly prepared to leave. Activating his Heavenly Rune Book first to escape, he then unfolded the magical map.
“This place...?”
It was a location Rokan knew.
He hadn’t been there, but he’d confirmed it while scouting the Red Dragon’s lair—one of the volcanoes.
It was known to house a demigod who ruled over fire, and had been a prime candidate for the Red Dragon’s lair during his initial intel gathering.
“So that’s where he is.”
Could this demigod perhaps wield both fire and blacksmithing mastery? It seemed entirely plausible.
He’d find out upon meeting him.
Activating his Compass of Greed, Rokan oriented himself and sped toward his destination.
He’d equipped the legendary-grade Axe of Valor from his previous dragon lair raid, but unsure of what reckless divinity use might trigger, he decided to avoid combat as much as possible.
‘The fame-realm guys won’t find it easy to enter either... Should be fine.’
Fame-realm entities in spirit form inherently carried yin attributes.
Such beings would naturally resist and fear fire, right?
They’d even clashed with near-counter forces in direct combat.
Higher tiers would suffer less, but this was still another demigod’s domain.
Even the king of the fame realm wouldn’t dare approach carelessly, Rokan figured.
So he slipped inside stealthily and swiftly.
“Hmm?”
Perhaps sensing the demigod’s presence. Fortunately, no one charged at him.
Lava Golems, Flame Flowers, Fire Eggs—the typical volcanic monsters—glanced up at the flying Rokan with mere wariness, showing no real hostility.
Rokan mirrored their restraint.
This was another’s domain, and he was here to make a request. Rather than causing a scene, he simply radiated his presence as he delved deeper, ever deeper.
“......Huh?”
Ping-grr. Clang clang clang clang.
Finally reaching his goal, the first thing Rokan spotted was a massive anvil and smelter.
The smelter especially was enormous, like a small hill in its own right.
He’d heard firepower was crucial for blacksmiths, but this seemed excessive, leaving him slightly daunted.
Yet most striking was the Titan engrossed in hammering.
[Sage Fergus of the Hammer and Anvil][Lv 499]
Titan and blacksmith. On the surface, a perfect match.
Forging superior gear required hammering the precise spot with precise force thousands, tens of thousands of times.
That was why dwarves dominated blacksmithing, and by the same logic, titans—with their vastly superior strength and stamina—might outclass them entirely.
‘Sage, huh.’
Yet titans were also known for low intelligence and short tempers.
A blacksmith was one thing, but a sage?
Rokan doubted his eyes but kept a straight face.
He knew well how interrupting a smith soured relations, so he stood quietly, waiting for the work to finish.
30 minutes, 1 hour, 3 hours......
But no matter how much time passed, Fergus kept hammering.
Like an NPC locked in infinite repetitive behavior until spoken to, he just pounded away at the gear.
‘This is the right guy, right?’
If only Gale had given a name instead of just coordinates. Worried he might be wasting time, Rokan held his patience.
A being of this caliber couldn’t be a looped NPC, after all.
After about five hours, Fergus finally straightened up and muttered.
“Whoops, hand slipped?”
‘......Can I really trust this guy?’
Doubt flooded in, but he had no choice.
“First time meeting, Sir Fergus. I’m Rokan, the King of Violence.”
“Hmm, a freshly ascended demigod? Seems you’re managing your world decently enough.”
Fergus read Rokan’s state at a glance. Likely gauging his divinity.
With an amount akin to what was needed for demigod ascension, he assumed recent promotion or moderate world-building.
No one else dumped a hundred million divinity into world backdrops like Rokan.
Technically accurate, so Rokan didn’t argue.
“So, what brings you here?”
“How could I forget Sir Fergus’s renown? For the finest weapon, you’re the only choice.”
Rokan laid on the flattery for the faux-stern Fergus.
‘NPC wrangling ain’t easy.’
Mentioning Gale was a no-go. Who’d be happy hearing from the guy who trashed the place for loot?
Skipping the obvious, he buttered him up smoothly, and Fergus’s expression softened.
Sage or not, still a simple titan at heart.
Rokan’s veteran status helped, too.
“Very well. Guiding an ambitious demigod is the role of a seasoned one like me. Show me your current gear. I need to see its condition to gauge your fighting style.”
Rokan flinched.
He’d swapped out not just his weapon but all of Gale’s gear, just in case.
Asking for Gale’s battle axe?
He considered faking it with something else but gave up.
Fergus wouldn’t say this lightly; using the wrong gear might yield a mismatched weapon—pure folly.
“Here... it is.”
“......This?”
No choice, Rokan presented the snapped Gale’s battle axe and watched cautiously.
Would Fergus recognize the connection to Gale?
Had time erased the memory?
As he waited anxiously, a thunderous roar shook him.
“To handle a weapon like this? You’re unworthy to wield one!”
“Urk.”
The shout carried real physical force.
But something was off. No mention of Gale—just fury at the weapon’s state.
Irreversible already, but Rokan quickly soothed with more flattery.
“Begone. To abuse innocent gear like this. You’re unfit for any weapon I forge.”
Fergus’s rage built, divinity subtly rising.
It was no trifling power.
‘Damn.’
‘Can I win now? Should I rampage like Gale?’
Thoughts raced through Rokan’s mind.
How to pry a weapon out? Did it have to be by force?
A idea flashed.
‘Whew, rampaging won’t be easy.’
Fergus’s title: Sage of the Hammer and Anvil. No hint of fire.
And Gale’s mention of “they.”
Another fire demigod lurked here.
‘What to do......’
Rokan didn’t push.
Even after Fergus snatched the broken battle axe, he didn’t demand it back—just waited silently.
Whether it’d cool his anger was unknown, but he’d observe for now.
One day, two.
He heard fame-realm pursuers closing in, ransacking likely spots, but he waited calmly.
Fergus hadn’t evicted him, after all.
Hoping for scraps if battle came, he scouted gifts via offline means to win favor.
On the fifth day, trouble brewed.
“Damn it, this isn’t it!”
Crash.
He’d broken prototypes before, but this time the roar was fiercer, the reaction violent.
[Broken Blade of Annihilation][GOD][Destroyed]
Fragment of Annihilation, snapped by the smith—blade alone remains.
Those slashed by this blade, infused with unknown power, find soul and existence blurred.
‘Gasp.’
Since rejection, Rokan had tidied and cleaned like a servant, eyes peeled. He touched the broken blade lightly.
The info popping up was staggering.
Broken, so no attack or options shown, but demigod-grade for sure.
‘He broke this?’
Unfathomable to Rokan. Objectively, too.
Even ignoring artisan pride, smashing demigod gear? Senility from age?
Absurd, but he hid it and cleared it quietly.
Ears open, he caught Fergus’s trance-like mutter.
“My gear... tainted by such filth. Was it... ......?”
Mumbled too softly and garbled to catch fully, but something had gone wrong.
Solve it, and opportunity might arise.
Rokan swiftly cleared the shards and approached.