Daddy's So Cool! (2)
The finest forge in Primordial Village staffed every last employee with dwarves and sold items by reservation only—the absolute best smithy the village had to offer.
Gods stuck with nothing but the Frontier Newbie Market for their multidimensional shopping had no choice but to use the forge if they wanted rare-grade gear. There was always the option of cracking open Bronze Chests, but the odds were so abysmal that only gods drowning in spare Faith ever bothered with the gacha.
The enhanced Bronze Chests that dropped after five-win and ten-win streaks supposedly had better rare-item rates, but a ten-win streak was an achievement even the top ranks struggled to pull off. And even then, a rare item was never guaranteed.
Plenty of gods grumbled about it, but the higher-ups refused to raise the drop rates, calling it a policy for fairness in the Newbie League. In the end, gods either set registration alerts on rare items and crushed their competitors under piles of Faith, or they commissioned pieces straight from the forge.
The method for producing a rare item at the forge was simple: keep making them until one stuck.
"Yohan, my friend! Another common!"
"Gyaaah!"
It hurt. The greatest forge in the village, and what we were doing amounted to pure, repetitive grind. Not that there was nothing to learn from it.
Blessed with the Handicraft talent, Yohan was a natural-born genius at crafting. Experience, though, was another matter—the equipment he could actually produce was still limited.
He could build an item from a blueprint alone. But perfection from the jump? Not a chance. Knowledge he would have had to hammer into himself through endless solo repetition was being handed to him outright.
"The axe you're making right now has to fit a dwarf's standards, not a human's. Dwarves are short, so they favor axes with shorter grips. Their strength more than makes up for it, though—they don't mind a heavier material one bit."
It was an eye-opener, expanding a perspective that had been locked to human norms. Yohan chucked the two-handed axe he'd just finished onto the weapons pile.
Failures that never made rare grade got stacked in the corner to be melted down and recycled. This was already the fourth flop, but he didn't show a flicker of irritation.
"Hyaa…"
"Lan-lan-i. Are you not hot, child?"
"Mommy's cool! Mad Demon's so cool!"
"Mad Demon is cool, I suppose. If only he would keep that mouth of his shut in ordinary times as well. This lady half wishes to seal his mute point."
"Mad Demon's cool even when he talks!"
When the cutest daughter in the world called him cool, what else was there to say? The dwarves, thoroughly enchanted by a cuteness that transcended species, kept sneaking glances at Lan-lan-i even while they worked.
"Ahem, ahem. Little one. Want a drink?"
"No! Mommy said not to take drinks from strangers!"
"Is that not Kim the Dwarf? Seeing him well puts this lady's heart at ease."
"Mommy knows this uncle?"
"Indeed! He is a follower under the Cult Leader!"
"Uncle Kim the Dwarf!"
Kim the Dwarf, what exactly are you handing someone else's daughter? Paternal instinct welled up from somewhere deep in my chest.
"Strike true! Daddy's papa!"
"Ack!"
A hammer cracked Kim the Dwarf square on the back of the head and sent him sprawling. The forge's master craftswoman—a female dwarf with a magnificent beard—clicked her tongue.
"Kim the Dwarf! Quit horsing around and melt down the failures!"
"Y-Yes, ma'am!"
"I'll look after Lan-lan-i myself! Here, kiddo. Want one of these?"
"Mommy said…"
"I know your dad. We make items together, don't we?"
"I want it!!"
Lan-lan-i latched onto a cookie the size of her own body and tore into it with total dedication—so cute it could stop a heart. A few of the dwarves actually clutched their chests mid-work.
"Kh… arrhythmia…"
Keep an eye on that overacting Kim the Dwarf. He might have some weird tastes. The second he shows a hint of anything, I'll quietly take care of him where no one can see.
"Hoo… so hot…"
Sophia half-reclined on a sofa set up in one corner of the workshop, fanning the front of her dress. Every flash of bare skin made my heart hammer, but I was the only one paying any attention.
Dwarven beauty standards revolved around lush beards and thick limbs, so they didn't even register Sophia as a woman. Thank god for that. Otherwise she would have felt the stares and closed her dress right up.
That white one-piece, soaked through with sweat, clinging and showing everything underneath—somehow it was filthier than a naked woman in the shower. A little more damp and her nipples would start showing through…
"My Goddess. A portable cooler. Keep it on you and it will ward off the heat."
"Thanks."
"Think nothing of it."
"Kim the Dwarf!"
Why the hell are you doing useless crap like that?! The cooler's performance was so good Sophia's sweat glands slammed their floodgates shut on the spot.
"Yessir!!!"
Kim the Dwarf snapped to attention like a soldier. I wanted nothing more than to thrash him like a dog on the hottest day of summer, but Cheonsol and Sophia were watching.
If I said something like I was trying to get Sophia sweatier so I could sneak a look at her nipples, I'd be the one getting beaten—not Kim the Dwarf.
"You should take care of Lan-lan-i and Cheonsol too. Vampirs are weak to heat."
"Ah! I'll bring more coolers right away!"
"Good."
Bloody tears welled up. People say the heartache of breaking up with someone you love squeezes worse than anything—but the pain of missing Sophia's nipples hurt every bit as bad.
I'd pour this sorrow into the axe!
"That's it! That spirit! Swing the hammer with that spirit!"
"As expected of our human friend! More dwarf than Kim the Dwarf himself!"
"I won't lose either!"
"Hyaa…"
I let the dwarves' admiration go in one ear and out the other, listening only for Lan-lan-i's voice as I kept working. The workshop's master craftswoman… what was her name again? The bearded woman stuck right by my side, offering advice.
"The minion who will wear this item prefers massive weight. Rather than slicing foes with the axe blade, he favors crushing the enemy under raw strength. As for the grip technique…"
The bearded woman's guidance made the Handicraft talent bloom. Swinging the hammer, I forgot my anger entirely and slipped into something close to a trance.
"Hyaaa! Mad Demon's so cooool!"
"I wanna hold a hammer too!"
"Mad Demon's the best!"
A world of nothing but anvil, hammer, and Lan-lan-i. Every strike on the axe blade seemed to carry the will of iron itself. And then, at last, the final hammer blow.
A deep thrum.
Resonating with the metal, I came back to the forge.
You have crafted the Heavy Axe of Wrath!
"A rare item!"
"Congratulations!"
"You are a true Honorary Dwarf!"
The dwarves' cheers snapped my reason back into place.
"Ah."
I should have entered that trance when I was making my own gear. Of all the luck—nailing someone else's commission instead.
"Shall we check the options?"
The bearded woman floated the suggestion casually, but I had zero desire to appraise it. If the options came out good on top of everything else, the jealousy would keep me up for days.
"I'm fine. Please deliver it to the client."
"Yielding the first appraisal to the weapon's owner! Indeed! A model for all craftsmen!"
"Huh?"
I'd been wondering what field this bearded woman was a master of. Turns out it was the art of talking complete nonsense.
"I shall respect our friend's craftsman's spirit! Originally I meant only to entrust the crafting, but the artisan who made the piece ought to meet the customer in person!"
"Huh?"
"I will contact the commissioning god at once—wait just a moment!"
The bearded woman vanished without so much as listening to me. No, at least give me a chance to clear up the misunderstanding before you bolt. You dump a load of nonsense and leave—what am I supposed to do with that?
"As expected of our friend!"
"To possess such a noble spirit! We shall take you as our example!"
Please calm the hell down, you lunatics. Why are these bearded, hairy little runts so gullible? Wouldn't someone who actually knows me clear up the misunderstanding?
"So Yohan was thinking like that… I had no idea…"
"Mad Demon's crafting success rate was abnormally high. It must have been because he approached the work with that mindset. I see him in a new light."
"Mad Demon's so cooool!!"
I covered my ears and grabbed the hammer. You lot can keep yapping. I've got work to do.
"He just made a rare item and he's already back on the hammer without resting!"
"We take a full day off once we hit our quota!"
"Mad Demon is the real deal."
I wish they'd all just shut up.
The god who had commissioned the item arrived the moment he was contacted. A man dressed in a high-ranking officer's uniform—though without a single medal pinned to it—locked eyes with me.
I didn't make a hobby of staring contests with other men, but looking away felt like losing, so I glared right back. Standing there like that dredged up the nightmare of the military-experience simulation I'd once played.
That field-officer character who'd glared at me for having long hair… because of that bastard, I'd sworn off the entire simulation genre.
The man tilted his head. He looked like he couldn't make sense of what he was seeing.
"Is there a problem with me being human?"
"Hoh."
The man let out a murmur of interest, and the bearded woman who'd been standing guard at my side stepped forward.
"He is a staff member who occasionally assists in our workshop. A human, yes—but also an Honorary Dwarf who possesses both a craftsman's skill and a craftsman's heart."
"Why bring a human to a meeting with me?"
"He is the artisan who crafted the item you commissioned."
"Hohoh."
You're not a damn parrot—what's with all the hoh-ing? I narrowed my eyes at him, and the corner of the man's mouth twisted up at an angle.
"I like him."
Is he gay? The gay-suspect extended a hand the same way that field-officer game character used to.
"I am Johannes Graham, the one who commissioned the battle axe."
I'd heard that name somewhere. Johannes Graham… wait. Ranking number one?