Chapter 391: Side 9: A Direct Upgrade When Looking Up

Author's Preface
Invading at level 5 with a barrage of bad rumors, planting the legendary tree, and then launching an invincible love-love blast rush... Amazing, truth really is stranger than fiction... (Excited)

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The Blacksmith Imron. A player who had reached "Master Blacksmith," the absolute highest tier of the Blacksmith job tree, and more importantly, a player famous as the owner of the Holy Hammer Mjolnir.

For example, the Holy Sword Excalibur required a player to reach the Hidden Area (Deep Stratum) of a labyrinth crawling with terrifyingly powerful monsters entirely solo.

For example, the Holy Spear Caladbolg only appeared when multiple people gathered in a specific location, and the ownership fell to the absolute last person standing after a massive PvP battle royale.

If so, what were the acquisition conditions for Mjolnir?
It was simply to use Mjolnir to craft a weapon... that was it. Being a "Master Blacksmith" wasn't an absolute requirement, and a player's level had little to no impact.

However, that was under the premise of "While inside a Monster House where massive hordes of monsters spawn constantly."

The strength to defeat monsters? No.

The speed to craft weapons? No.

What the Holy Hammer Mjolnir demanded was sincerity.
Even if one's body was torn apart by beasts, even if their flesh was corrupted by poison, even if death was rapidly closing in to smash their skull right in that very moment.

Only the sincere are worthy to grip the hammer.

Those were the words carved into the absolute deepest depths of a certain cave where the Holy Hammer Mjolnir was enshrined.

To put it as simply as possible, it was a "Test of Courage." Countless blacksmiths challenged it, and scattered... And the one who finally took up the hammer was a mere level 45 player with zero special abilities, who was acknowledged as its rightful owner because he forged a single knife without a single shred of compromise.

Monsters that induce physiological revulsion, monsters that employ even more brutal methods of attack—a player capable of maintaining a heart of steel right in the absolute center of such a crucible of tyranny, pouring his entire being into his forging... That player's name was Imron.

"Whiiineeee is a weapon I don't knoooooow being made somewhere I don't knooooooow sheesh!!!"

And right now, that very player was currently flipped onto his back on the ground, flailing his arms and legs in front of Psyger-0.

"What is a Re-Legacy Weapon!? I don't knooow! I don't know anything about thaaaaat↑!!"

"Ah, um, a Re-Legacy Weapon (Sokisou) is..."

"Wait! I'm still a blacksmith chosen by Mjolnir... I can at least guess that much! To be frank, if you enhance a Legacy Weapon (Ikisou) to its absolute final stage, the category changes, right!!"

"No, that's incorrect."

"Haaaaaaaan!!"

Looking down at Imron—a middle-aged man whose character design screamed 'craftsman' holding a golden hammer, currently thrashing around on the ground making high-pitched slapping noises—Psyger-0 began to genuinely doubt her own memory if this was actually the personality of the person her sister had previously negotiated with.
Unless her memory was completely distorted, he was supposed to be a player who communicated fundamentally through roleplay, much like the Saint Fanclub (Shining Knights of the Holy Shield).

"Kh... Curse you, Arthur Pencilgon... I guess it's true what they say about her being a demon that plays with people's hearts..."

Regarding that, even Psyger-0 couldn't say anything, as her negotiation cards had been handed down straight from the Mastermind (Pencilgon) herself.

"Um..."

Three screenshots entrusted to her by Pencilgon. The first and second were pictures of Sunraku equipped with a mechanical iron fist, and Sunraku equipped with a mechanical buckler.

And the third one...

"Um, well... if you want to see this third one... then, I want you to cooperate with 'Wolfgang'."

"Kh... So underhanded. Isn't this basically like those sealed magazine pages...? No, wait, time out... Cough, cough. However, I am still a respectable blacksmith. I can't just stay silent when there are Techniques (Skills) I don't know about. If you're requesting my cooperation, it must be related to blacksmithing... Hand it over, hand over that screenshot of yours... y'hear?"

Exactly as Pencilgon had predicted, the top-tier blacksmith player they encountered "heading straight through the Sea of Trees to find a new area where ore could be mined" closed in on Psyger-0 with completely dead, unblinking eyes.
That abnormal demeanor... If she had to compare it to something, the glare was highly reminiscent of her sister whenever Lycaon was involved. Instinctively, Psyger-0 held up the screenshot like a shield between herself and Imron.

"Ah? The hell is this, just a normal sword..."

"Guh, it's a Champion's Weapon (Grateful)... enhanced all the way to its Rebuild Stage."

".........Rebuild?"

A brief silence.
Staggering back, a heavy sigh leaked from Imron's mouth. The continuous, unbroken exhale eventually turned into a groan, which raised its pitch even further until it became a full-blown scream.

"Haaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh......!!↑↑"

Imron, clutching his head with both arms, tilted backward more and more until he was arching his entire back and writhing. To put it mildly, he was exactly the type of person Psyger-0 absolutely did not want to get involved with, but even setting that aside, Mjolnir's power as a "Blacksmithing Tool" was deemed valuable enough by Arthur Pencilgon to warrant playing the Joker (Top Secret) walking around inside Wolfgang.

Right at that moment, Imron suddenly gripped the golden hammer hanging at his waist.

"Frustration!!"

Psyger-0's armor clanked loudly at the sudden, bizarre scream. And at that exact same time, a feeling of pressure clamped down on the back of her neck.
It was an "Enemy Attack" signal from Diale, who was camouflaged as a cloak. Instantly snapping her slightly relaxed thoughts back into combat mode, before she could even ready the iron whip at her waist, Imron made his move, completely seizing the initiative.

"Lightning Forge (Blitz Forge)!!"

The moment Imron struck several scales—which seemed to belong to a dinosaur—that he had pulled from his inventory and tossed straight up into the air with the Holy Hammer Mjolnir, they instantly formed into a single sword that looked exactly like a plastic model assembled with the unpainted base colors of its materials.

Grabbing the one-handed sword forged at lightning speed, Imron readied it and hurled it with every ounce of strength in his body toward the shadow of the trees.

The hastily forged blade cleaved through the air and struck a small dinosaur that was just about to pounce on its prey.

"Tch... Talk later! Show me the true power of the Attack Holder... by my troth!"

"His roleplay is going completely off the rails..."

A few minutes later, to Psyger-0—who had intercepted the Monsters (Attackers) without any particular issue—Imron spoke up as if he had finally resigned himself.

"Alright, I get it. In for a penny, in for a pound... No, I'll suck the very fingers of the bastard who made this poisoned bait dry... So? I can expect a proper reward for this, right?"

"P-Probably."

What flashed through Psyger-0's mind was Pencilgon spouting absolute nonsense with a smile that was the furthest thing from the words 'safety' and 'guarantee': "Well, if you just properly provoke him, he'll spill the info. Sunraku-kun is an incredibly twisted tsundere, after all." Psyger-0 looked up at the sky with a gaze mixed with resignation, deciding to just shift the blame completely in the absolute worst-case scenario.

"Leaving that aside, the scenery visible through the gaps in the trees is clearly different from the Sea of Trees... I wonder what it is?"

"Eh?"

The situation did not allow Psyger-0 the luxury of spacing out. Leaking through the gaps in the trees was a desert region inhabited by Fiercely Brave People possessing courageous hearts... The Great Sand Sea of Diltoseo.

Author's Afterword
There's actually a reason why the monster names sound so much like scientific names.