Chapter 47: Divine Spirit by the Fire, Legendary by the Anvil~

Chapter 47: Chapter 47: Divine Spirit by the Fire, Legendary by the Anvil~

Lorin watched her back disappear into the morning mist, at a loss for words for a moment.

Pip crouched on a rock beside him, muttering softly, "Is she angry?"

"She’s just saying one thing and meaning another..."

"Tell me the truth, when you helped her up just now, did you grab something you shouldn’t have?"

Lorin glared at him and curled his lips. "No."

The halfling nodded thoughtfully, speaking in the tone of someone with experience. "Pip thinks women are just like that. If you help her, she thinks you’re being nosy. If you don’t help her, she thinks you’re cold. Either way, it’s always your fault."

Lorin looked at Pip in astonishment. He remembered this little guy wasn’t even twenty yet, so how could he speak with such authority?

"Where did you hear that from?" he asked.

"Everyone says so," Pip replied righteously.

"But..." The halfling rested his chin on his hand, saying thoughtfully, "She’s actually quite nice. With such a complex Array, she probably started drawing it last night and kept going until now."

Lorin felt she was still too young. He shook his head and said, "She’s just too reckless. Drawing an Array out here all alone in the middle of the night—she wasn’t even afraid of running into enemies."

Then, he saw Pip looking at him with a strange expression. Baffled, he asked, "What is it?"

"Pip has been away from home for almost two years, and all the attacks I’ve encountered on the road combined don’t add up to as many as I’ve faced since teaming up with you," the little guy sighed.

"Really!?"

"Yeah. Pip thinks you shouldn’t bother trying to be a Warlock Mage anymore. You might as well become a Barbarian with Pip. That way, you’ll have fights every day, and your strength will skyrocket in no time."

"Please, just stop..."

Waiting always made time pass slowly.

Over the past day and a half, Lorin had carefully sharpened Rusted Throat’s blade from hilt to tip and applied the Sword Oil Carl had given him. It had been slightly corroded during the previous battle with the Rotting Moss Monster and looked a bit dull. After sharpening the sword, he repeatedly practiced his Sword Skills. This dull training calmed his restless heart, preparing him for the upcoming battle.

Without his Warhammer on hand, Pip seemed to have nothing to do. To pass the time, he resorted to helping Hiv chop wood at the tavern entrance. As he chopped, he kept muttering about going to check if the Enchantment was done, annoying Lorin to no end.

"It’s already afternoon, it should be ready by now!"

"Alright, alright, let’s pack up our gear and go take a look."

Lorin put on all his equipment neatly. He wore a soft tunic as a base layer, strapped on the Silver-Forged Fine Steel Breastplate, and draped a windproof coat over the outermost layer.

On his feet were his newly acquired Midnight Touch. The Longsword Rusted Throat was fastened at his waist, and the Dragon Scale Round Shield was slung across his back. He also carried his two Magic Accessories. Since this was just an ambush battle, he didn’t need to bring unnecessary clutter. He simply brought a belt pouch containing the final payment for Horton and the Weak Antidote he had purchased earlier.

"Phew—" Lorin tightened his belt and let out a light breath. The equipment on his body provided him with a profound sense of security. He figured since he was this well-prepared, Pip must be too. He turned his head to look.

GLUG GLUG GLUG... BURP... UGH!

He saw the little guy leap up onto a barstool and order a large mug of Dwarf-brewed ale from Hiv—a mug as big as his own head—and chug it all down in one breath.

"Sheesh... drinking this much before we head out?"

The strong alcohol made the little guy half-close his eyes. With a heavy THUD, he slammed the mug back onto the table. Shaking his head, he said, "A powerful Barbarian taught me this. Before you learn Frenzy and Pain Ignore, you can drink a huuuge mug of beer before a battle."

"BUUUUURP—" He let out an incredibly loud and long burp.

"Using alcohol to substitute for Combat Skills? That Barbarian is truly a genius," Lorin thought. "Let me guess, he was a Dwarf?" he asked.

Pip hopped down from the chair and asked in surprise, "How did you know!?"

"Heh... let’s go."

The two arrived at the blacksmith shop.

Horton was wiping down an Iron Sword hanging on the wall. Seeing the two walk in, he turned around and took the Warhammer down from the weapon rack behind him.

"It’s ready. Take a look." He carefully placed the hammer on the counter.

[Molten Fire Vibration]

Type: Long-Handled Warhammer

Quality: Excellence (Blue)

Weight: 13.8 kg

Length: 52 inches

Durability: 220/220

Equipment Effects:

[Heavy Strike]: Attack speed -10%, but attacks have a chance to stun the enemy.

[Meltdown]: Deals extra damage to armored targets and Shields, with a chance to soften Metal Armor/Shields, reducing their defensive effectiveness.

[Dragon Flame]: Hits are accompanied by a Flame splash effect.

Note:

"Please do not attempt to heat food with this hammer."

— Shallow Beach Town Blacksmith Shop / Horton

Even with the interface panel, Lorin barely recognized the hammer.

After Horton’s reforging, the Warhammer had taken on a completely different appearance. The formerly grayish-black hammerhead had been replaced by a mixed metal that was black with hints of red. Its surface was covered in spiderweb-like cracks, and occasionally, orange-red streams of light flickered within the fissures, as if it had just been pulled from the furnace and hadn’t yet cooled.

As for the equipment’s Attributes, they were even more mind-blowing. The original Armor Piercing had gained the effect of softening metal, and a new Flame splash attribute had been added. It was significantly stronger than before.

This money was truly well spent. Lorin hurriedly took the final payment from his pouch and handed it to Horton.

"This..." Pip tremblingly picked up the hammer, his eyes widening slightly with excitement. Gripping the Warhammer, he slowly took a practice swing at empty space. The path of the hammerhead left behind a faint trail of light.

"Oh! It’s gotten heavier! But it feels so right," the halfling shouted in pleasant surprise.

Horton crossed his arms and straightened his back, the corners of his mouth turning up high. He was clearly very satisfied with his craftsmanship. "Hahahaha, of course it feels right! I went ahead and adjusted the center of gravity for you. That hammer wasn’t meant for a Halfling before. Not bad, right?" He proudly took a sip of tea.

"Mr. Horton... are you even human?" Pip’s voice trembled with excitement.

Horton’s smile froze on his face. "Huh?"

"If Pip knew how to write poetry, I would definitely write one for you! I’d call it ’The Legendary Blacksmith Horton’, and the first line would go like this: A Divine Spirit by the hearth, a Legendary on the anvil~"

The halfling danced around with the hammer as he sang. His voice could make a retired Mage Apprentice scream as it awakened childhood traumas from forty years ago.

Horton finally lost his composure. With a PFFT, he spat out the tea in his mouth. He reached out and smacked Pip on the head. "Get out, get out, hurry up and get out. Don’t hold up my work here."

"Alrighty!" The little guy excitedly hugged his hammer and walked out.

"Mr. Horton, thank you for your hard work." Lorin didn’t follow immediately. Instead, he earnestly thanked the bald blacksmith, his attitude even more respectful than usual.

Although he didn’t know the average standard for Enchantment equipment, just looking at the 220/220 Durability made it obvious that Horton had put his heart into it.

Horton froze for a moment, then waved his hand as if shooing away a fly. "Enough nonsense. As long as the hammer works well, that’s what matters."