Chapter 182: Slayer Maker (2)
Chapter 182: Slayer Maker (2)
Crockta couldn’t figure out why the famous Golden Anvil tribe’s blacksmith was here in such a shabby manner, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask and gulped instead.
Tiyo relieved Crockta’s frustration, “Why is such an artisan begging here like a beggar?”
“What do you mean begging? You tiny gnome brat!”
“If I am tiny, are you a small scrap?”
Two people of similar short stature yelled at each other. Jakiro was bigger in size, but Tiyo did not back down at all.
Jakiro glared at Tiyo, then twitched his face and said to Crockta, “In any case, oh warrior, if you continue to use Ogre Slayer, it will break one day, and you will never be able to fight with it again.”
“...!”
“However, if you think that you have been using it for a long time and that it’s a good time to get a new weapon, then you can just go.”
Crockta stared at Ogre Slayer. It was a weapon that fit perfectly in his palms, the best battle buddy ever. Crockta was familiar with everything from Ogre Slayer’s shape and center of gravity to the pressure it gave off when he held it!
However, even if it was a cherished battle buddy, and if it was time for it to be laid to rest, then it couldn’t be helped. He had no choice but to happily let it go!
Crockta nodded, “Thank you. I will get a new weapon.”
“To start anew, you must boldly throw away relics of the past,” Anor said.
“I envy you. My General is too sturdy, so I can’t even change it.” Tiyo said in his usual snobbish tone.
Crockta’s party congratulated him. Since the olden days, everything depended on the equipment. When the time came, everyone would want to get better, newer equipment.
Crockta’s heart throbbed with anticipation for the new weapon, which he had never thought about.
“Phew, let’s design a cooler weapon this time...”
Just like that, they tried to go inside the inn with bright faces.
Jakiro hurriedly walked up and stopped them again, “No, wait, warrior! Do you not have any love or affection for your weapon!?”
“...?”
“So you’re just going to throw away Ogre Slayer like that!?”
“A blade is just a blade, what are you talking about? It’s only natural to let it go when the time comes.” Crockta said indifferently.
“What a heartless fellow! Ogre Slayer will be sad!”
“I am not a geek who cherishes my tools and personifies them, Jakiro!”
Crockta puffed out his chest.
“Jakiro, keep in mind. Weapons are weapons, and men are men! Don’t put too much meaning on inanimate things. It’s all fleeting emotions. An expert does not blame their tools, real warriors do not discriminate against the weapons they use.”
A heartless hard-boiled mind. Realistic materialism!
“Giving meaning to tools like that is something that the feeble-minded do, and it is all their useless superstitions going wild!”
Crockta did not believe in jinxes. When he was a soldier, he saw many people giving meaning to trivial things. They even trembled in fear thinking that an accident was because of someone’s curse. Such self-fulfilling prophecies, which stemmed from fear, resulted in a tragedy that caused numerous people to fail.
So, he did not believe in all of that. A blade was just a blade. All he trusted on the battlefield was himself!
“Such a... warrior without any romanticism...”
“Don’t worry. Those many romantic warriors have already died at my hands, and they must have already met their beloved swords in the underworld.”
“Kugh!” Jakiro dropped his head.
“I can’t believe that my sword is in the hands of such a heartless orc...”
“Keke, didn’t you hear from Thompson?”
At that time, Thompson had the opportunity to open a deal with the Golden Anvil tribe because of his connection to them. Jakiro may even be Thompson’s friend.
“I only make weapons and don’t care who uses them. It’s my philosophy.”
“Then, do you perhaps not know who I am?”
Jakiro grinned while looking at Crockta, “I only recognized you as a random orc warrior because you are holding my weapon. How would I know who you are? I am the one known as the ‘Slayer Maker’! There are so many warriors who wish to have my sword that I can’t afford to remember them one by one.”
He seemed to have pride as an artisan.
Crockta nodded, “I see.”
It had nothing to do with him.
“Anyway, it was nice to meet you. Goodbye then...”
“Wait a moment!”
“Why do you keep blocking our way?”
Jakiro was blatantly blocking in front of the door into the inn.
“Uh, anyway, this is also fate, so why don’t we accompany each other to Geherard?”
“We don’t need any companions...”
“Oh warrior, are you going to be so cruel to the man who made your weapon?” Jakiro looked at Crockta with sad eyes.
“Even if you are cold-blooded and do not have any affection for weapons, you should know moral principles. I made weapons for you and Thompson without asking for anything in exchange.”
“As far as I know, you were returning the favor of saving your lives...”
“So! Instead of the crafting cost! Let’s call it even by going to Geherard together.” No matter what, Jakiro wanted to go to Geherard together because the journey there was rough.
Crockta looked at Tiyo and Anor. Tiyo’s face seemed to imply “NEVER”, and Anor looked indifferent.
“Do you guys know the way to Geherard?”
“We have a map.”
“You are going to trust in a map and try to enter the great sea of forests? I can’t believe it. From what you’ve said, I don’t think you three know anything about Geherard. Do you know why Geherard is called Geherard?”
“We do. It means eternal fire.”
“And what is this eternal fire?”
“That, we don’t know.”
“See, you don’t know anything. I will guide you.”
“Hmmm...” Crockta nodded.
Although they came without any plan after hearing that Hedoro was there, given that it was located in a dangerous area called the Sea of Forests, it might be difficult to go as if looking for any other ordinary city.
“Okay. Then, let’s meet here again tomorrow-...”
“Ehem, since I am accompanying you, let’s stay for a day together-...”
“...”
“Think of it as the price for the weapon...”
Thus, it was decided that Jakiro, the blacksmith of the Golden Anvil tribe who made Crockta’s sword, would accompany them.
***
They went on the road early in the morning. They had to go through several rugged places on the route to Geherard.
The first enemy they met was a group of goblins.
“Goblins, huh...”
“Erm...”
Crockta and Tiyo, who each had a goblin friend, looked reluctant. The goblins, not knowing who their opponents were, were mocking Crockta’s party with their distinctive sneering faces. One of the goblins showed his ass and tapped on it while laughing out loud.
Calming his raging anger, Crockta said, “Look here, goblin friends.”
Perhaps because they understood the language to a certain extent, the goblins listened to Crockta’s voice.
“We don't want to fight, so why don't you just go?”
At that, the goblins looked at each other. Then, they whispered to each other as if discussing something, and then they nodded in unison. They seemed to be able to communicate.
“Kyakyak! Kiyakkk!”
One goblin stepped forward. It was the goblin who was laughing at them earlier while slapping his butt. He bowed his head politely as if apologizing for his disrespect.
Crockta smiled kindly, “Whoa. It’s fine, goblin friend. You’re just trying to make ends meet too...”
The goblin shook his head and put his hand in his pocket. Was he trying to give them a gift to reconcile?
Crockta’s party watched what he was doing. The goblin rummaged through his pocket and soon took something out.
“...!”
The thing he handed to Crockta was none other than the middle finger[1].
They were looking forward to what he was going to bring out, but instead, he threw a fatal mockery at them as they were focusing on him! Crockta’s expression stiffened, and the goblins laughed even more loudly.
“Kyakyakya! Kiyahhh!”
“Kiyokkiyak? Kiyaaak? Kyakyakyak!”
“Kiyaak!”
The goblins giggled and pointed fingers at Crockta’s party. Then, they hovered around them, looking as impudent as they could.
Crockta decided to forget his friendship with the wise goblin Kyawak for a moment. He waved Ogre Slayer.
“Kyaaaaaaaak!”
The goblins felt a breeze grazing past their cheeks.
Thud.
Following that, something hot sprayed all over their bodies. The goblins, who pointed fingers amongst themselves and laughed mockingly at Crockta’s party, turned their heads with blank faces.
The goblin, who pointed the middle finger at Crockta’s party, was convulsing on the ground with his upper and lower body separated. His body splattered.
“Kyaaaa!”
“Kiyaaaak!”
The goblins took a step back in surprise. After a moment of bewilderment, the goblins took up their shabby weapons respectively, and they began to swing them at Crockta’s party.
However, the opponent was none other than Crockta. Crockta was a one-man army that faced the empire’s elite knights alone. A group of goblins couldn't stand a chance against him.
Every time his greatsword moved, the goblins were cut into pieces along with their shabby weapons. They ended up sprawled on the ground.
Soon, the surroundings turned into a sea of blood. It was an overwhelming massacre!
“Wow...” Jakiro, who was watching from behind, nodded.
Crockta was a stronger warrior than he expected. Although he did not have a good eye for the capabilities of a warrior because he was stuck in the smithy of the Golden Anvil tribe, spending all day making weapons, the orc warrior looked extremely strong even in the eyes of an amateur.
The image of Ogre Slayer dancing in his grip even seemed to look cheerful.
“Not bad.”
He felt pretty good. Seeing his sword in the hands of an outstanding warrior, allowing it to display its value. Thus far, he had been striking on iron, aiming to complete the weapons. He thought it was beyond his control how those weapons were used. So, he also thought that the other blacksmiths who were strict about the owner of their weapons were foolish.
However, he could understand it to some extent now. How pitiful would it be if a sword that could fly so beautifully fell into the hands of a sloppy fellow?
“It’s beautiful.”
Crockta had dealt with most of the goblins. The only surviving goblin trembled in fear and slumped on the ground, bowing his head to Crockta. He banged his head on the ground as if to ask for forgiveness.
“Kyaakyaaak!” The goblin slammed his forehead on the ground and begged for mercy.
The greatsword fell over his head, and his head exploded.
“You should have thrown away the poison needle in your mouth.”
There was a small, thin tube mixed in between the cracks of the goblin’s head that burst. It was a poison needle that goblins like to use.
“These goblin bastards... They’re so different from Kiao.”
“Isn’t he a super-goblin who transcended beyond the limits of his species?”
Tiyo shook his head as he recalled the great goblin archer Kiao, who unleashed his arrows with a storm imbued with the power of time and space in Xantimur’s lair.
Then, he said to the dwarf, who was gawking, “Jakiro, let’s keep going.”
“Hmm? Okay.” Jakiro came to his senses.
Anor put his hands together as if praying for them. An unknown force flowed out of his hands. It was the power of a necromancer, scattering the spirits of the dead.
“I hope you reach heaven.”
Following Crockta, Jakiro was now seeing Anor in a new light. He thought Anor was just a sorcerer or a spiritualist, but he was a necromancer. It was a rarely seen class.
A powerful warrior, and a necromancer.
“What are you doing, twerp! Let’s go!”
As well as a loud gnome. It was an interesting combination.
***
Although they repelled the group of goblins, they were soon met with new enemies, befitting the great sea of forests.
This time, it was trolls. There were three trolls surrounding them, drooling.
“Shall I show my skills this time?”
Tiyo smiled as he mounted General on his shoulder. The sight of the tiny gnome walking towards the three vicious trolls was precarious.
Jakiro gestured at Crockta, “Oh warrior, will he be fine? That little brat is...”
“See for yourself. Keke.”
When the fight began, Tiyo indiscriminately fired with the General. Jakiro thought it was a magic rifle created with magic engineering, but it transformed into something that looked like a Vulkan gun, emitting countless rays of energy in various colors. The trolls were not even able to approach and were pelted with bullets.
“Isn’t that an artifact?!”
“They say it’s the legacy of Dragons.”
“Really...”
The General’s true name was Dragon Slayer, a weapon made to kill dragons! The weapon, which grew with its user, was now exerting power befitting its name. As Tiyo boosted the General’s power further, the magic bullets began to penetrate the trolls’ bodies instead of just restraining them in place.
“Kaaaghhh!”
“Groarrrr!”
Smoke started rising, and the trolls tried to regenerate their lost parts. The General, however, was not just any normal rifle right now, it was a Vulcan!
Eventually, the trolls’ bodies got filled with holes and they crashed to the ground.
Jakiro completely rectified his assessment of Crockta’s party. They were not just adventurers, but true powerhouses. Those thoughts of his reached their peak when the party met a group of ogres.
“I can’t believe they were able to deal with ogres so easily.”
The ogres’ territory was commonly called the tomb of adventurers. That was how difficult it was to deal with such ferocious monsters. Adventurers would either escape or die, it was one or the other.
However, Crockta was easily handling such a huge monster. He slaughtered the ogres, just like the name of the greatsword he wielded—the Ogre Slayer. Two more ogres appeared upon hearing the ogres’ screams, but the outcome was the same.
The forest turned red with each swing. In the showering rain of blood, Crockta moved beautifully while holding that heavy sword, as if he was dancing. It was a systematic swordsmanship where attack and defense became one. It didn’t take long before the ogres all died.
Crockta grinned as he looked at Jakiro, “How is it? My skills?”
“...”
Jakiro nodded, and continued, “It’s amazing, really...”
When he first received the blueprint of an unsophisticated and large greatsword, he wondered if the owner was going to fight against ogres or something. So, he made a sword suitable for that purpose.
However, after meeting the owner of Ogre Slayer in person, his thoughts changed. He was strong. The enemies suitable for that warrior were not something of the likes of ogres.
“I’m glad I left...”
He clenched his fist. He wanted to strike on iron immediately.
1. Verdict: Death penalty to the funny goblin haha ?