This is the story of what happened long before Sora Yatagami/Karasuki was summoned to Tortus. Ryu the Dragon King is considered a Hero by his people. He spends his days peacefully, managing his kingdom as its King. All that changes when the whirlwin...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
His materials coalesced within the circle. The young man's creation had a perfect curve, impeccable balance, and a well-crafted handle that showed his consideration for its wielder. He stared sharply at what he'd made, seemingly satisfied.
Oscar: Perfect. That's a great pot.
He seemed proud of his work. Tenderly, he picked up the dull gray pot. He then carefully placed it inside a box. Said box was already full of pots, frying pans, plates, and other cooking utensils. Scattered around him were other mundane goods. Lanterns, fancy desks, building tools, scissors, stationery, and other everyday goods littered his workplace.
There was not a single weapon in sight, despite this being a workshop specializing in weapons. There were technically some sharp implements, but none of them could be considered weapons. They were all cooking knives. Knives for chopping vegetables, knives for cutting meat, even knives for cutting bread. And they were all of exceptional quality.
However, they were all still cooking utensils. While all the other craftsmen were trying their hardest to create exemplary weapons, this young man was just making mundane items. Naturally, this made him stand out. Not in a good way, either. Everyone hated him, especially because the Orcus Workshop treated him favorably despite his obvious shortcomings.
Smith 1: Tch...
Smith 2: Hmph.
People scoffed. The young man turned around to see two elderly masters staring down at his work. They wore disapproving glares. He smiled awkwardly in response and returned to his own work, trying to ignore them. While the craftsmen all hated him, most of them didn't do much to get in his way. After all, they were too busy focusing on their own work.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
But in every group, there was always a small minority that refused to conform. The same was true here. While most people were content to leave the young man alone, some felt compelled to make his life miserable. The young man scattered wood chips around the pots, cushioning his creations. It was then that someone walked up, looking for trouble.
Ping: Hey, loser. How long are you going to keep making junk like this? What happened to the stuff I asked you to make?
This new voice was derisive and unpleasant. The newcomer was short and fat, and he was surrounded by two lackeys. One was tall and lanky, while the other had eyes that looked like they were bulging out of their sockets. All three of them were smiling wickedly.
