Overgeared

“Pagma! You have no such thing as shame!’

“Did you come back to die?!”

‘The interest is hot.’

The dwarves were famous for devoting themselves to their work. He heard that the dwarves were the type to turn a blind eye even if a madman suddenly popped out naked. There seemed to be only one exception. A crowd appeared the moment Pagma’s name emerged.

“Everybody, out of the way! It is my job to kill Pagma!”

“Let’s torture him for 10 years instead of just killing him!”

“I will drop a hammer on his little toes.”

“......”

New dwarves were constantly gathering. It had been a long time since the room ran out in the small smithy. Grid was pressed back against the checkout counter and calmly grasped the situation.

‘Should I escape?’

Why were they raging against Pagma? Grid’s experience was too rich for such questions and confusion. He knew that most of Pagma’s actions, while for the sake of justice, had betrayed or injured others. There would naturally be resentment.

‘Sigh.’

However, he hadn’t expected Pagma to even make trouble in Talima, a blacksmith’s holy land. He planned to communicate with the dwarves using the relationship between Pagma and Milepeu (dwarf craftsman).

‘I have to give the dwarves some time to cool down before getting closer.’

It was the moment when the sighing Grid was about to pull out the sword to use Restraint...

“Hey, you guys! Calm down!” The first one to recognise Grid’s identity and the owner of the smithy, Morain, shouted at the dwarves to calm down. “Have your eyes become rotten from making failed works every day? Look closely at him! How can you see Pagma from this ordinary yet unknowingly charming face?”

“......!”

“Certainly...”

The dwarves in the front row who were close to Grid were the first ones to calm down. They grunted as they stared closely at Grid’s face.

“His appearance is ugly compared to the beautiful Pagma.”

“Yes, Pagma was trash, but his appearance was charming. On the other hand, this person is only vaguely charming.”

“His skeletal frame is bigger and his eyes are as sharp as an eagle. He looks like he is going to eat a mouse.”

“……” Grid’s eyes twitched. It was unpleasant to hear evaluations about his appearance when it was hard to tell if they were praises or curses.

look like I’m

was also a very high evaluation considering that he was being compared to Pagma. Based

dwarves. Then he declared, “I

“Pagma's Descendant...!”

over after hearing Pagma’s name finally regained their sense

that Pagma died in the

no longer in this world. No matter how evil he used to be,

when he saw the dwarves’

also feeling resentment

Grid

I should’ve

died comfortably? He

idea. He sighed again as the hundreds of dwarves, including those pressed against the window, stared at him. Grid knew it because he was a legendary blacksmith. He could tell that

Descendant? The sword he is carrying is among the top 10

the energy of two gods? I would covet it if it was a

he better than

take apart those

Gasp, gasp, gasp.

the dwarves’ sense of craftsmanship. Those who had lived for hundreds of years witnessed numerous masterpieces, yet they were still impressed by Grid’s

dwarves felt admiration. A few dwarves

all dead things. There is no soul at all. There is only a glossy surface just like

is Pagma's Descendant that he can’t achieve any

into, the materials he collected after risking his life, and the skills recognized by the blacksmithing god, were denied. The soul and rapport—Grid noticed that the concept they were discussing was the

you swear at Pagma, but... I can’t listen to my work being

didn’t need to lower his pride just because he was in a

be denying all the experience he had accumulated and all the

to evaluate the work of others?” Grid declared coldly and the

to step back with amazement. Nevertheless, a few dwarves didn’t back down. They were the

you also

craftsman’s gaze fell onto the gauntlets held in Grid’s hand. “You would’ve observed and evaluated all our work until you selected an item from the stands. It is natural to evaluate all works. You should quit being a blacksmith

my conscience to do business like

it

Tang!

Grid wasn’t wary at all. It was because Pelot’s throwing skill was only at a rudimentary level and there wasn’t

sloppy to be called

Then the God Hands came out of his inventory

“This...?!”

eyes of the dwarves widened and Grid

a great

the best of Pagma’s legacy. Grid’s pride in the God Hands was

of