The wings stopped. The wind that had been whipping the black mane also died down.
A horse with jet-black wings. But it was no ordinary horse.
The magical power of the S-rank beast, the Heavenly Horse ‘Kaiser,’ crushed the air even after death.
“As expected of the Iron Mountains. To think beasts like this are so common here. Truly a high-level hunting ground.”
My body felt as heavy as lead. The battle had lasted nearly two hours.
In the game, all I had to do was memorize the patterns, but reality was different.
One mistake could be fatal. Without the holy sword, even a counterattack would have been difficult.
“Well, time to start looting.”
I began dismantling the beast’s corpse piece by piece. Its heart, horns, wing feathers, and most importantly, the magic stone.
“This should be enough material to bring to the forge.”
A mark on the map caught my eye.
The Iron Mountains.
A habitat for rare beasts and home to the city of the dwarves.
It had already been a week since meeting Aris, and the destination was now just ahead.
“I wonder if Serena delivered the message well.”
The image of the collapsing blue magic circle in the Mage Tower city was still vivid.
I felt worried about leaving the letter with Serena, but she would have done well. After all, she was a true psycho killer with no fear of death.
I checked my inventory one last time. The S-rank materials were neatly organized.
The Wolf King’s Fang.
The Glacial Turtle’s Shell.
The Horn of the Doom Kirin.
The Mammoth’s Bone.
And now, the Heavenly Horse Kaiser’s feather and heart.
“Whew…”
I took a deep breath. There wasn’t even time to recover the stamina and mana consumed in the last battle.
“Alright, let’s go.”
I stood up on the beast’s corpse. The cool mountain wind cooled the sweat on my forehead.
I had to reach my destination before sunset. Time was running out, and ‘they’ would always be chasing me.
It was a path I had already chosen. I could only keep moving forward.
At the point where the valley of the Iron Mountains ended, I stopped.
“So this is… ‘Iron Forge’?”
A colossal lava furnace pierced the sky. As soon as I entered the city, the heat from the forges made the air feel stifling.
The rhythmic sound of hammers echoed from every direction as bearded artisans worked. Their expressions were stoic, but their hand movements were as delicate as those of artists.
At the same time, automated factories roared to life. Weapons poured out in sync with the rumble of magical engines. It was a strange coexistence of tradition and innovation.
“Hey, human! If you stand there blankly, you’ll end up burning yourself on a steam pipe! Watch out!”
A dwarf with a bushy beard approached. He was short but had impressively muscular arms. In his hands were a wrench and a hammer, traditional blacksmith tools etched with magic circuits.
“This place is truly unique.”
“Unique? Hah! Of course! We’re dwarves!”
The dwarf’s laughter boomed.
“Over there is the automaton army, and that way is the mana amplification engine room. Everything is automated.”
My gaze stopped at the central square’s display platform.
Mana-powered armor, long-range magic cannons, and enchanted shields—every piece was astonishing.
Laughter echoed from the tavern. Dwarves who had finished their work chugged beer and exchanged banter.
“Did you see the halberd we finished today? The mana amplification rate increased by 30%!”
“Only 30%? You should see the new armor from our workshop.”
“Both of you shut it. The chief’s masterpiece is still the best!”
Their rough voices blended together. The conversation was filled with passion and pride.
Everywhere I went, dwarven culture was alive and breathing. This was something I could never experience in the game. In the game, Iron Forge was just a place to upgrade equipment.
A slogan carved on the plaza bulletin board caught my eye.
‘Innovation without tradition is hollow, and tradition that rejects innovation is dead.’
“If anywhere can do it, it’s here.”
It was time to find the city’s best blacksmith.
I walked through the bustling merchant streets. The dwarves’ persistent sales pitches echoed in my ears.
In the game, they were just NPCs, but here, the dwarves felt so alive—in the most bothersome way possible.
“Hey there, adventurer with the tired face! Wait a second! Where did you get that weapon?”
A female warrior got caught up in a sales pitch. She was an elf with silver hair and a lithe build. A dwarf merchant was closely inspecting her sword.
“I bought this not long ago…”
“That’s what I’m saying! You got completely sca—no, you overpaid. Come to our store. I’ll get you something twice as good…”
“I said no! Let me go!”
“Just let me give you an estimate! I’ll even do a 60-month interest-free plan! Just take a look!”
The elf tried to escape, but the dwarf was faster.
On the other side, another scene unfolded.
“How much did the other store quote you? Just tell me!”
“Uh, well…”
“Don’t worry. I’ll match it exactly!”
Another young adventurer was caught while trying to browse armor. The dwarf merchant firmly held his arm and wouldn’t let go.
“No, I was just looking…”
“Looking? Hah! Great! Just look around. Take your time!”
The adventurer seemed to have no way of escaping the dwarf’s iron grip and was eventually dragged into the store.
‘He’ll probably leave penniless.’
“Sir, just take a look at our store. Just a look, I promise!”
“No, come this way. We’re offering special discounts!”
“If you bring a competitor’s estimate, we’ll discount even more…”
If an innocent adventurer wandered in after hearing rumors, the dwarves would surround them like wolves encircling prey.
Without being asked, they’d inspect their muscles and calluses, then draw up an estimate on the spot.
“Oh, you’re just getting an estimate and not buying?”
“I’m just passing by…”
“Want me to smack you?”
A bitter smile formed on my lips. At least one fortunate thing was that while Dwarven equipment was expensive, it was worth every coin.
“If you sign a contract today, you’ll receive a special gift…”
“Bring us a competitor’s quote, and we’ll match it!”
The Orc, surrounded by a ring of Dwarves, was visibly distressed. Eventually, he pulled out his wallet with a sigh.
‘It seems no race can outwit a Dwarf’s silver tongue.’
As I walked through the streets, more scenes unfolded before me.
“How about this sword? It’s coated in lava stone with specialized magic circuits…”
“Ah… I don’t have the money…”
“Don’t worry, there’s always a way. We offer adventurer credit loans! You can get a full magitech set, plus living expenses!”
A human in a mage robe was being swept away by a Dwarf’s sales talk.
“Hey, human! What are you gawking at?”
One of the Dwarves approached me with a sly smile, and as if they could smell opportunity, two or three more gathered around.
“You’re not planning to go adventuring without a weapon, are you? You know how dangerous the world is these days.”
One Dwarf glanced at my waist and continued. Since I hadn’t summoned my holy sword, it must have looked like I was unarmed.
“Take a look at this. It’s our latest piece, plated with Royal Mithril!”
The Dwarves surrounded me with their signature products. With their gruff faces and weapons in hand, they might have seemed intimidating to a typical adventurer.
Of course, I wasn’t worried about violence. Fighting a customer wouldn’t just ruin their reputation—it would leave their merchandise secondhand.
“Hold on.”
I interrupted them. Royal Mithril… I had crafted it hundreds of times in the game to level up my skill.
“Did you say Royal Mithril? Isn’t that a mix of Mithril and lava stone in a 7:3 ratio, forged with magical crystals?”
The Dwarves’ beards twitched slightly.
“Uh… That’s true, but—”
“But this Royal Mithril… its purity seems questionable.”
“W-What did you say?”
“When magical crystals are melted in, they should glow blue. But right now, I’m seeing a violet hue. If the lava stone content matches regulation standards…”
The Dwarves began sweating, exchanging uneasy glances.
“And that dagger’s rune engraving looks odd, too. With authentic Dwarven craftsmanship, ‘Blessing of Wind’ always follows ‘Protection of Earth.’ The order’s reversed here. That would disrupt the magical flow.”
“Uh… Well…”
One Dwarf stammered while another quickly interjected.
“Hey, I think this one’s an expert!”
“Which brings me to my point.”
I straightened my posture and continued.
“The current market price seems excessively high. If we calculate fairly—200 gold for materials, three days of crafting, and the cost of magical crystals…”
“Oh, I forgot to turn off the forge!”
“Uh, I think there’s a fire over there!”
“The master craftsman is calling us!”
One by one, the Dwarves scattered, fleeing the scene.
The adventurers who had been watching stared at me in awe. Outsmarting the notoriously sharp-tongued Dwarven merchants with pure logic—what a sight to behold.
A small smile played on my lips. But this result was only natural. After all, I had spent countless hours mastering the game’s crafting system: equipment stats, enhancement probabilities, material combinations—I knew it all by heart.
‘Time to head to my real destination.’
In the distance, I heard more Dwarven sales pitches.
“Miss, isn’t that bow a little outdated?”
“Are you planning to enter a dungeon in that kind of armor?”
But no Dwarf dared approach me anymore.
Leaving the bustling market behind, the streets grew quieter. The noise from modern magitech workshops faded away, replaced by the serene sound of hammers striking metal.
A rusty sign creaked in the wind, faintly engraved with the emblem of a worn hammer.
‘This must be the place.’
Pushing open the door, the rusty hinges groaned. Tiny sparks crackled from the forge.
The atmosphere was different here. Unlike the modern magitech forges powered by magical energy, this place carried the breath of a true artisan.
And then—
Clang! Clang!
The gentle sound of a hammer echoed in my ears.
At the far end of the forge, a petite silhouette was hammering away.
She stood less than 150cm tall, her long brown hair cascading like a fairy-tale Rapunzel, pooling on the ground and then some.
This was the Dwarven girl I had been searching for.
It must be because the original game was designed with certain aesthetics in mind. While male Dwarves embodied the traditional rugged fantasy trope with their thick beards, female Dwarves were different.
They shared the same short stature but grew out their hair instead of facial hair, presenting a distinct charm. Just as male Dwarves took pride in their beards, female Dwarves cherished their long hair as a mark of beauty.
“Excuse me…”
I spoke, and the hammering stopped. The girl slowly turned her head.
Her amber eyes glowed like molten lava, and her skin, smudged with soot, held a healthy bronze hue.
“Is this Garuda’s Forge?”
Her shoulders flinched, and she hurriedly bowed her head, stammering.
“Uh… W-Well… I-I’m Garuda… But… why…?”
Her small hand trembled as it gripped the hammer.
“Well, it looks like I’ve come to the right place. Oh, and I’ll speak casually—after all, the customer is king, right?”
I took a step closer, and she shrank back even further.
“W-What? Why all of a sudden…?”
That’s when I noticed the blade resting on her workbench. Though unfinished, the spirit of craftsmanship was etched into its steel.
‘As expected… She’s the master I’ve been searching for.’
For a brief moment, her eyes sparkled. But then she shook her head and stepped back again.
Garuda was like this in the game, too. The greatest blacksmith, but cripplingly shy, making it notoriously difficult to commission her work.
“I have a request.”
“A r-request? For me…?”
Her shoulders flinched again.
“T-That’s impossible… Everyone goes to the magitech forges these days… This place is just outdated, old-fashioned… useless…”
“But it’s exactly that ‘old-fashioned’ skill that I need.”
I opened a bag brimming with S-tier materials. Her eyes lit up with wonder.