Wrath of the Thunder God

Wrath of the Thunder God

"How did a noble elf end up in a crude shop like mine?"

At the low question, a gray-haired, gray-bearded dwarf emerged from the back room. The wrinkles on his face ran like gullies and ravines, every hollow steeped in the colors of time.

"Wherever elves go, even the crudest place becomes like Lake Mälaren beneath the moonlight—beautiful and shining," Allen said unhurriedly. Lake Mälaren lay within Stockholm City, once an important elven stronghold. It was not only beautiful, but also a symbol of the Elven Race's glorious past.

"Lake Mälaren is occupied by those hairy creatures now. I wonder if they know how to appreciate moonlight." Dwarves were no slouches with their tongues either, and he shot back without yielding an inch.

Allen's expression did not change, but a terrifying aura began to radiate from him. After the Elven Race withdrew from the Western Continent following their war with the Orcs, Stockholm had been occupied by the Werewolves. That was the Elven Race's shame, and whenever it was mentioned to their faces, something unpleasant was bound to happen.

"Master Grey Mori, if this is how you treat your guests, then please return our deposit. We'll leave at once." Qin Mo lightly patted Allen's shoulder, calming him in time. Allen cast a contemptuous glance at the gray-haired dwarf and dispersed his invisible pressure, no longer bothering to argue with him. Just as a dragon could not be bothered to crush an ant beneath its foot.

"Grey Mori, put away that useless pride! This honored guest is a customer, and I've already taken his deposit." The large, plump woman immediately roared at Grey Mori, leaving Qin Mo dumbfounded. Was he about to watch an interspecies domestic violence drama for free today?

Strangely, the irritable Grey Mori showed no intention of fighting back. Muttering, he walked over to the counter and said in a voice so soft it was nearly inaudible, "...What do the honored guests... need made?"

Even Allen's face twisted into a smile. The Grey Mori who had looked so mighty and domineering moments ago had instantly turned into a bullied little wife. Qin Mo and Allen could not help studying the large, plump woman carefully, wondering what species she had transformed from... a dragon?

"What do you need made?" Grey Mori's tone began turning irritable again.

"I need a suit of armor—fitted, understated, sturdy, and full of rugged beauty. But it must be a beauty not everyone can understand, the sort that ordinary people would think was no different from common junk." Put another way: "It has to be sturdy, but inconspicuous, so the enemy's archers won't pick me out... and so on!"

As Qin Mo listed his requirements one by one, Grey Mori's eyes grew brighter and brighter. By the end, even his gray beard had begun to tremble.

"That's right! The armor you want is exactly the specialty of Dwarf armor. Only the Dwarf Race can forge armor like this in the world. Boy, you came to the right place... hahaha!"

"As long as the goods are good, people will come from thousands of miles away to find them, even if they're hidden in a place like this. Am I right, Master...?"

"Exactly right, boy! I'll give you a discount... oh, oh... one percent off..." Grey Mori nearly got carried away with delight at Qin Mo's lavish praise for his work. But when he saw the murderous look in the plump woman's eyes, he hurriedly revised it to one percent off.

"I'm in a hurry. I'll be leaving in half a month at the latest. Can you finish it in ten days?"

"Finishing it in ten days requires an expedited fee—three bolts of silk like that." The large, plump woman immediately cut in to name the price, while fiercely glaring at the pitiful Grey Mori, making Qin Mo unable to suppress a laugh.

"Ten days is too tight... I, Grey Mori, do not deceive people. Every piece must be perfect..."

"You'll forge through the night... and you must guarantee the quality!" Before Grey Mori could finish, the large, plump woman roared at him. Grey Mori could only squat there and draw circles by himself.

Grey Mori brought out an iron stool and began taking Qin Mo's measurements. He was only a little over half Qin Mo's height, and it took him half the day of climbing up and down before he finished. Throughout it all, neither the two women nor the two dwarves came over to help. They merely gathered around that bolt of silk, stroking it lovingly and savoring its wonderful touch.

Bang! The door flew open—or rather, it had been kicked open. The one who had kicked it was still holding his leg raised.

Everyone in the room glared angrily at the person in the doorway. Qin Mo found it strange as well. Dwarves were hardly friendly folk, and opening the door like that was clearly asking for a beating. In Fusang, was there anyone more arrogant than Dwarves?

Thud, thud, thud. Heavy footsteps entered Grey Mori's shop. It was actually three Dwarves clad in iron armor, carrying battle axes and warhammers. Their dark armor had been polished to a gleam, and Qin Mo could only shake his head. What kind of melodramatic bullshit was this now?

"Murphus, what are you doing here again? And you're even wearing armor. Did I not beat you badly enough last time? Hahaha, you cowardly little coward..." Once Grey Mori recognized the newcomers, he began laughing and cursing loudly, unable to conceal the smug look on his face.

"Grey Mori, you secretly married a human wife and brought shame upon our school. That would have been one thing, but you cannot leave Mount Fuji. That is the home of us Dwarves. Nor can you casually sell Dwarven elite weapons and armor to humans. By order of the Grand Elder, I have come to take you back." The red-haired dwarf at the head of the group spoke solemnly to Grey Mori, showing no anger whatsoever at Grey Mori's mockery.

"I like it here, so here I stay. Master is already dead! As for that bullshit Grand Elder, I have never acknowledged him. Let him lead our Black Iron Clan? Dream on!"

"Since you refuse to return to Mount Fuji, hand over Master's Forging Notes so I can take them back. Those notes should belong to all Dwarves. They cannot be allowed to pass into the hands of cunning humans."

"Master's Forging Notes were entrusted to me by him before he died. No one will take them away, especially not Muradin Bronzebeard! Come, let me see how much your skills have improved." Grey Mori seized his warhammer, taller than a man, and assumed a stance. A towering aura instantly filled the cramped space. He showed no concern that this was a shop, nor any concern for Qin Mo and the others around him.

At that moment, the two large, plump women rushed out from the back room. When the three Dwarves had entered, they had slipped into the rear, and Qin Mo had thought they were hiding. But upon seeing the armor on their bodies now, he realized that fierce wives were the best helpers in a brawl.

"Grey Mori, look what this is! Will you still resist? Are you not even going to consider the lives of your wife and children?" Red-haired Murphus held a foot-long cylinder in his hand, its color vicious and sinister. He completely ignored Grey Mori's overwhelming aura.

"Wrath... Wrath of the Thunder God... You're actually using Wrath of the Thunder God against your own Dwarf brothers? ...Bastard..." The fighting spirit around Grey Mori died away instantly, like a bonfire beneath a torrential downpour. Even his voice began to tremble.

Upon hearing the name "Wrath of the Thunder God," the two tough women, who had been wearing iron armor with fierce expressions, huddled together in terror and trembled all over.

Qin Mo, meanwhile, stared curiously at the thing that looked like insecticide. What kind of divine artifact was this? The fierce trio of husband and wives looked ready to surrender without a fight. It seemed the name "Wrath of the Thunder God" was no small matter. He could not help moving closer, wanting to get a good look at the true appearance of this indispensable treasure for murder and robbery.

But when he saw Murphus toss aside his weapon, take out a tinderbox and light it, then wave it back and forth toward a thin cord on the Wrath of the Thunder God, Qin Mo instantly cursed and charged out the door.