Lackey's Seducing Survival Odyssey

Chapter 1757: Forging Weapon: Part-3

“Oh my goddess~”

His rough fingers slowly brushed across the coarse surface, carefully tracing every ridge and groove as though he were touching the hide of a slumbering beast rather than lifeless remains.

Years of experience allowed him to judge a material’s quality through touch alone, and the excitement gradually became visible in his eyes.

“Hmm…” he murmured thoughtfully while continuing his inspection.

“Such incredibly sturdy material… judging from the density, internal grain, and natural compression alone, these claws could probably pierce even Commander-Class.”

His voice remained calm, almost absent-minded, as though he had already reached his conclusion without needing to perform any further analysis.

Jonathan and Young Aether exchanged surprised glances.

Jonathan wasn’t surprised by the blacksmith’s analysis. He had witnessed the blacksmith’s uncanny ability to judge materials countless times before. What truly caught him off guard was the assessment. That these claws could pierce Commander-Class Mech-Suits genuinely startled him.

As a Commander himself, he understood better than anyone just how absurd that statement was.

Even Young Aether had only assumed that the cursed wyvern’s claws were capable of slicing through ordinary mech-suit. He had never imagined they possessed enough natural strength to threaten Commander-Level Mech-Suits.

“Are you saying these could actually damage Commander-Class units?” Jonathan asked, unable to hide the surprise in his voice.

“Indeed.” The blacksmith nodded several times while continuing to examine the claws from different angles beneath a holographic inspection lamp.

Streams of blue scanning light swept across the material, instantly generating dozens of floating analysis windows, yet the blacksmith barely glanced at them.

“Look at this surface texture, the molecular density, and the natural hardness. In all my years as a weaponsmith, I’ve never handled biological material this durable. If I sharpen these properly, they could easily become the sharpest blades I’ve ever forged.” His eyes shone with growing enthusiasm before he looked back at Jonathan.

“Where in the world did you two manage to obtain something like this?”

Jonathan simply smiled without offering an answer.

The blacksmith immediately realised he had asked something inappropriate.

“Ahem…”

He coughed awkwardly before carefully placing the materials back inside the bag.

“My apologies. Every blacksmith has a few bad habits, and curiosity happens to be mine.” He folded his arms before looking toward Jonathan again. “So then, what exactly do you want me to make?”

Jonathan casually leaned against the workbench and smiled.

“I want you to do what you do best.”

The blacksmith stared at him for a brief moment before shifting his attention toward Young Aether.

“Is all of this… for the boy?”

Jonathan nodded without hesitation.

“Hmm…”

The blacksmith slowly circled around Young Aether, carefully studying him from head to toe with the experienced eyes of someone who had spent decades designing weapons for every imaginable type of warrior.

After several moments of silence, he finally spoke.

“Tell me, boy… what kind of combat style do you use?”

Without waiting for an answer, he continued speaking while resting one hand on one of the enormous claws.

“It’s extremely rare these days for anyone to commission weapons made from monster materials. Modern technology has advanced so far that our military-grade fabrication systems can reduce claws like these into microscopic dust if necessary. Synthetic alloys, adaptive nanosteel, and plasma-forged composites outperform almost everything found in nature, so very few people bother with biological materials anymore.”

His voice carried neither pride nor disappointment.

“Those who do purchase them usually display them as expensive decorations or collector’s pieces. They’re conversation starters, museum exhibits, symbols of status…” He let out a quiet laugh.

“Ironically, not a single weapon I’ve ever forged from monster materials has tasted blood or flesh…” The blacksmith let out a long, heartbroken sigh before gently stroking one of the massive claws. “What a terrible waste… My poor babies must be so lonely. They were born to hunt, to fight, to carve through steel and monsters alike, yet they’re locked away behind reinforced glass like lifeless trophies.”

He clicked his tongue in frustration and shook his head.

“What a cruel world we live in. Can’t people see how wrong that is? Tell me, isn’t it wrong?” He looked between Jonathan and Young Aether as though genuinely expecting an answer.

“Those assholes spend a fortune buying my cuties, only to hang them on a wall so their rich friends can stare at them over expensive wine.

What about their purpose?

What about the thrill of battle?

What about the bloodthirst burning inside them?

A weapon isn’t meant to gather dust… It’s meant to be wielded!”

Young Aether opened his mouth, intending to respond, but the blacksmith continued before he could speak.

“You might wonder why I still accept these commissions if there’s barely any profit left in this line of work.”

A nostalgic smile slowly appeared on his face.

“The answer is simple.”

He gently placed his palm against one of the massive bones.

“I love this craft… I genuinely enjoy breathing life into forgotten materials and turning them into something worthy of being called a weapon.

If a person cannot love the work they dedicate their life to, then what exactly is the point of living? Money comes and goes!

Recognition fades!

Even history forgets names eventually!

But creating something that carries a fragment of your soul…” He smiled quietly.

“…that never truly disappears.”

He continued rambling enthusiastically about craftsmanship, purpose, legacy, and the meaning behind creating weapons.

Jonathan and Young Aether exchanged an awkward glance.

Jonathan eventually cleared his throat.

“Ahem.”

The sound instantly snapped the blacksmith back to reality.

“Ah… right.” He scratched the back of his head with an embarrassed smile before looking toward Young Aether once again.

“So tell me, what exactly are you planning to do with these? Are they just another fancy display piece to impress your friends, or do you genuinely intend to use them?” He folded his arms thoughtfully before adding, “Even if you do intend to fight with them, I honestly don’t see many practical advantages over modern military weapons.”

Young Aether quietly stepped closer to the workbench before resting his hand on one of the enormous claws.

“Whether a weapon is powerful or not…” he began calmly, “…doesn’t depend entirely on the weapon itself.”

The blacksmith silently listened.

“You just told us that modern weapons are capable of reducing these claws to pieces.” Young Aether gently tapped the massive claw with his fingers before continuing. “Yet you’re also the same person who said these very claws possess enough power to cut through Commander-Level Mech-Suits.”

He slowly raised his head, locking eyes with the craftsman.

“So tell me…”

His voice remained calm, yet every word carried quiet confidence.

“Is true power really determined by the weapon…”

“…or by the person holding it?”

“Which one is actually more dangerous?”

“Oh? That’s nice ob….”

The blacksmith stared at the young man for several long seconds as his words trailed off. For the briefest moment, he was certain he had seen an indescribable darkness seeping into those calm eyes, causing a cold sweat to slowly trickle down his back.

At first, he thought it was merely his imagination.

Then the familiar sensation returned.

!!!!!!!!!

A cold shiver slowly crawled beneath his skin as though invisible claws were dragging themselves across his spine, forcing the tiny hairs on the back of his neck to stand upright. His breathing unconsciously became shallower while an instinct buried beneath decades of experience screamed at him to keep his distance.

He had spent his entire life working with monsters and the materials harvested from their corpses. After a decade of handling countless claws, fangs, bones, scales, and hearts, he had developed an almost supernatural intuition.

Every material carried something beyond its physical properties. There was always a lingering trace of instinct, a fragment of hostility, or an echo of the creature’s existence that remained long after death.

Most craftsmen dismissed such feelings as superstition.

He never did.

Whenever his hands touched those remains, he could faintly sense the lingering will they had left behind.

Some growled.

Some screamed.

Others radiated endless hunger.

It was never language.

It was instinct!

PURE ULTRA INSTINCT!!!

Yet…

None of those lingering wills had ever frightened him.

Not until today.

The young man standing before him felt the same feeling of monstrous will.

Without laying a single finger on him, the blacksmith could already sense a presence eerily similar to those monstrous remains.

It was ancient, savage, and suffocatingly overwhelming, making every instinct in his body scream in warning.

!!

His pupils contracted.

For a single heartbeat, the workshop around him vanished.

The humming fabrication drones disappeared.

The floating holographic blueprints dissolved into darkness.

Even Jonathan’s presence faded from his awareness.

All he could see was an endless wasteland covered with the corpses of unimaginable monsters or… humans?

Standing silently at the centre of that ocean of corpses…

…was Young Aether.

No.

Not the young man standing before him.

Something else… Something wearing human skin!

Behind him rose the shadow of an enormous wicked grin whose outline refused to remain stable. Every time the blacksmith tried to comprehend its shape, it changed into something even more impossible, as though his mind lacked the ability to perceive its true form.

Those eyeless eyes slowly looked toward him.

There was no killing intent.

There was no rage.

There wasn’t even hostility.

Only complete indifference.

The same indifference a king might show an insignificant insect crawling beneath his throne.

It was as though…

…the King of Bloody Monsters himself stood before him.

No.

That wasn’t quite right.

The young man wasn’t asking him to forge an ordinary weapon.

He was being ordered to create a weapon worthy of someone who stood above every Monster.

Crack!

The illusion shattered as the workshop returned.

The blacksmith stumbled backward, his heartbeat pounding violently against his ribs as cold sweat soaked the inside of his clothes. His fingers trembled despite decades spent standing before monsters far larger than buildings.

‘What… was that…?’

His breathing refused to steady.

‘I wasn’t looking at a human…’

‘I was looking at something every monster in existence would kneel before.’

Without realizing it, both of his knees almost gave way.

He immediately straightened his posture and struck his fist against his chest in the highest salute a blacksmith could offer.

“Y-Yes…”

His voice trembled uncontrollably.

It almost felt as though the Goddess herself had sent this terrifying existence before him to test whether his love for the craft was genuine.

The blacksmith slowly inhaled before striking his chest with a firm fist.

“If…” His voice shook despite every effort to remain composed. “If I fail to forge a weapon worthy of you… t-then I shall gladly offer my head as payment for my incompetence! Sir!!”

Both Jonathan and Young Aether stared at him in complete confusion.

Young Aether, however, frowned inwardly.

‘Did he… somehow sense me?’

The thought quietly surfaced in his mind, though his expression remained perfectly composed.

The blacksmith slowly extended one hand.

“May I examine your palm… sir?”

Young Aether silently offered his hand.

The blacksmith carefully held it, his calloused fingers gently tracing the rough skin across Young Aether’s palm. He gradually closed his eyes, seemingly memorising every detail hidden beneath the surface, as though the hand itself contained a story only experienced craftsmen could read.

The instant he finished…

His entire body violently shuddered.

“S-So hard… so big… So~hmm~thick~ahh~ My goodness…”

!!

Young Aether immediately pulled his hand back.

‘Did this bastard just figure out my dick size by touching my hand? What the fuck?!’

The blacksmith slowly opened his eyes, his expression becoming even more serious than before.

“I see…”

He nodded repeatedly.

“I see now…”

His voice became almost reverent.

“You truly are… a beast disguised beneath human skin.”

“…”

Young Aether remained silent, though his suspicion only deepened.

‘Can this man actually see through me…?’

Jonathan noticed his friend’s discomfort and stepped forward.

“So?”

The blacksmith turned toward the pile of monster materials resting on the workbench before respectfully asking, “What kind of weapon does this honoured sir require to fulfil his duty?”

Jonathan and Young Aether exchanged another confused glance.

The sudden increase in the blacksmith’s respect was so dramatic that neither of them understood what had caused it.

Young Aether eventually shrugged.

“Anything is fine. I only need it to be strong, durable, and capable of surviving anything thrown at it.”

The blacksmith immediately retrieved a digital notepad, rapidly recording every requirement before nodding with complete confidence.

“Understood. Your weapon will be completed in two wee…”

Young Aether’s brows rose slightly.

“Huh?”

Mistaking that simple reaction for dissatisfaction, the blacksmith’s face instantly turned pale.

“I-I mean…” he hurriedly corrected himself with a nervous smile. “Four days, dear sir! It will be finished within four days.”

Young Aether simply nodded.

“Good.”

“How much will it be…”

Before Jonathan could finish asking about the payment, the blacksmith suddenly raised his hand, stopping him with an unexpectedly serious expression.

“This is the first time in my entire career that I’ve been given the opportunity to create something truly worthy of its wielder.”

“…”

Jonathan’s lips twitched involuntarily.

Those words…

For some reason, they sounded strangely familiar, as though he had heard someone say almost the exact same thing somewhere before.

He quietly prepared himself for what he assumed would be an astronomical fee.

Instead, the blacksmith suddenly struck his chest proudly and declared with unwavering conviction,

“Allow me to forge it without asking for a single credit. No… charging you would be an insult to my craft. It is my honour to create this weapon, and I refuse to let money cheapen that honour.”

As he spoke, his eyes drifted toward Young Aether once again, the admiration within them only growing stronger.

Jonathan stood there for a moment, completely confused.

He honestly couldn’t understand what had happened during the last several minutes, but considering how much he had already sacrificed just to obtain the materials, he certainly wasn’t about to argue with a free commission.

A free weapon crafted by one of the city’s finest blacksmiths?

Only an idiot would refuse!

“…Thank you,” Jonathan said sincerely before offering a respectful nod. “We’ll return in four days.”

The blacksmith immediately returned the bow.

“I’ll be waiting.”

Jonathan and Young Aether turned around and slowly made their way toward the exit while the workshop’s automated doors silently slid open.

As they walked away, the blacksmith remained standing exactly where he was, watching Young Aether’s departing figure with an unusually bright smile that bordered on reverence.

Young Aether happened to glance back one last time before stepping outside.

‘That man’s… pretty weird.’

That was the only conclusion he could reach before following Jonathan into the vehicle.

The moment the workshop doors sealed shut behind them…

The blacksmith’s smile instantly vanished.

His legs nearly gave out beneath him as he grabbed the workbench with both hands, clutching it as though it were the only thing keeping him upright. His fingers trembled uncontrollably while cold sweat poured down his face, soaking his clothes as if he had just escaped a life-or-death encounter.

Only now did he finally allow himself to breathe.

“…Haa…”

It had felt as though he had been standing before an ancient monster wearing the skin of a human being.

A creature so terrifying that every instinct in his body had screamed at him to kneel.

Then he slowly lowered his gaze.

Drip…

Drip…

His expression froze.

His work pants were completely soaked.

“…”

“I really need to start wearing diapers next time…” he muttered with trembling lips, letting out a bitter laugh that sounded closer to a sob.

Still shaken to his core, he carefully shuffled toward the back room to clean himself up before activating the workshop’s security system. One by one, the holographic displays powered down, the fabrication drones returned to their charging stations, and the doors slowly sealed the entire building.

The shop would remain closed for the next four days.

He intended to dedicate every waking moment to forging the greatest weapon he had ever created.