I gave Gruntar a puzzled look as I stared at the gauntlet resting in his hands.
"...What’s that supposed to be?"
Wasn’t he making a golem?
When I’d checked on him halfway through, the thing had been nothing more than a ss of parts and half-assembled components. No clear shape, no indication of what it was ant to beco. I’d assud it was still far from completion.
Yet now, here he was, proudly holding up a single gauntlet.
Judging by its solid fra and dense construction, it was clearly no ordinary piece of equipnt—but beyond that, I couldn’t tell what it actually did.
"Hurry up and try it on!"
Gruntar practically shoved it toward , his eyes sparkling with anticipation.
"Hold on," I said, raising a hand to stop him. "You should at least tell what it’s supposed to do first."
I wasn’t about to stick so mysterious dwarven contraption onto my arm without knowing the basics.
"What explanation?" Gruntar snorted. "Just put it on already!"
...Of course.
True to form, he showed zero interest in explaining anything. Instead, he pushed the gauntlet closer, as if daring to refuse.
I let out a quiet sigh.
There was no point arguing with him when he got like this.
Reluctantly, I took the gauntlet from his hands.
It was heavier than it looked. Not unbearably so, but enough that I could feel the weight imdiately settle into my palm.
The tal was cool to the touch, etched with faint, geotric patterns that hinted at runic circuits embedded beneath the surface.
Still... it was sothing crafted by a dwarf.
If anyone knew how to make durable, functional equipnt without it exploding on the user, it was their kind.
"...Fine," I muttered. "But if this thing blows my arm off, I’m haunting your workshop."
Gruntar only grinned, looking utterly unconcerned.
"That just ans it worked!"
...That wasn’t reassuring in the slightest.
Still, Gruntar was a master even by dwarven standards. His reputation alone carried weight. And on top of that, I’d seen him deep in discussion with Vermut all through last night, arguing over asurents, enchantnt layers, and who-knew-what else.
If Vermut had signed off on it, then it was probably safe.
Probably.
I swallowed and reached forward.
Click.
As soon as my hand slid into the opening, a heavy, icy sensation wrapped around my palm. The tal felt dense—far heavier than it looked—but strangely hollow at the sa ti.
"...It’s loose," I muttered.
The fit was off, almost like it hadn’t been made for a human hand at all. My shoulders sagged slightly in disappointnt.
But that feeling lasted less than a second.
Whirrrr.
"W–what the...?!"
Without any input from , the gauntlet suddenly moved.
The tal shifted and wriggled as if it were alive, plates sliding over one another with sharp, tallic clicks. I instinctively tried to pull my hand back, but the gauntlet had already tightened its grip—firm, but not painful.
Whirr. Whirr.
Runes etched along the surface flared faintly, one after another, as if so internal chanism had awakened. The sound was loud enough to echo through the workshop.
"Oi, oi, don’t panic," Gruntar said casually. "It’s just calibrating."
"That’s exactly the kind of thing I should panic about!"
The gauntlet continued to adjust itself, plates compressing, extending, then locking into place. After a few more noisy seconds, it abruptly went still.
Pssshhh.
A plu of white steam hissed out from between the seams, curling into the air before slowly dissipating.
When I looked down—
"...Oh."
The gauntlet fit perfectly.
No gaps. No looseness. It hugged my hand and forearm like it had always belonged there, every joint moving smoothly as I flexed my fingers.
"Size-adjustnt complete," Gruntar said proudly. "Adaptive alloy. Responds to the wearer’s mana and skeletal structure."
"...So it reshaped itself?"
"Aye. Automatically."
I opened and closed my hand once more.
The weight felt balanced now—no longer awkward, no longer heavy. If anything... it felt right. As though this gauntlet had always been ant to be there.
"Incredible..." I muttered under my breath.
I had never seen or even heard of sothing like this. Not in this world—and certainly not in my previous life. Even with modern technology, creating sothing this responsive, this seamless, would have been impossible.
I was genuinely left speechless.
"How is it? Amazing, right?"
Gruntar asked with an unmistakable look of pride, his thick chest puffed out as if he were the one wearing the gauntlet.
I flexed my fingers again. Every joint—down to the smallest movent—responded instantly, smoothly, as though the gauntlet were an extension of my own body.
The fingers bent naturally, the wrist rotated without resistance, and there was no lag whatsoever.
Aside from a faint, reassuring weight, there was no discomfort at all.
And unlike before...
"It really is amazing..."
The gauntlet now clung to my hand perfectly, fitting it like a second skin. The dull shine of steel caught the light whenever I moved, producing a crisp tallic sound that stirred sothing instinctive in my chest.
A sound that made a man’s heart race.
Through the narrow gaps between the plates, I could see intricate inner components—tiny chanisms layered with impossible precision, humming faintly as mana circulated through them.
He made this in one day?
The quality was absurd. Unreal.
I turned my hand slowly, examining it from every angle, my amazent only growing.
"So," I asked at last, "what’s this thing called?"
Dwarves were notorious for naming their creations. To them, a weapon wasn’t just a tool—it was a masterpiece, sothing worthy of a grand, unforgettable title.
There was no way Gruntar hadn’t nad it.
"The na?" He grinned, beard twitching. "This beauty is called the Plasma Pulse Magnetic Gauntlet!"
"...W-what?"
My brain stalled for a second.
Plasma? Pulse? Magnetic?
Why was it so long?
The mont the words hit my ears—each more ridiculous than the last—I felt a wave of dizziness wash over . It sounded less like a weapon and more like sothing from a deranged inventor’s fever dream.
Gruntar, completely oblivious to my reaction, continued proudly.
"It channels mana into concentrated pulses, stabilizes the flow with magnetic fields, and releases excess energy as plasma when needed! Took years of theory—and a sleepless night—to finally make it work!"
"...Of course it did."
I pinched the bridge of my nose.
I could tell how much attachnt he had poured into it.
That much was obvious just from the way he looked at the gauntlet.
But still...
"The na’s a bit long," I said honestly.
Gruntar scratched his beard, thinking for a mont.
"Then how about just Furion?"
Wrath—in the ancient tongue.
"...That’s good," I nodded. "Much better than Plasma-Compression-Enhanced—whatever-it-was."
Gruntar burst into laughter. "Oi, don’t remind of that monstrosity."
And just like that, the gauntlet was officially nad Furion.
Still, one question continued to bother .
"Didn’t you say you were making a golem?" I asked. "Why does it end up being a gauntlet?"
I was certain about it.
Last night, he’d clearly said golem.
A massive construct.
Rideable.
Controllable.
Not... this.
"Oh, that?" Gruntar waved his hand casually. "Vermut and I talked it through all night."
An outstanding mage and a legendary craftsman.
If those two reached a conclusion, it wasn’t sothing to dismiss lightly.
"In the end, we figured a full steel golem was just too much," Gruntar continued. "The blueprint ca from a dungeon, but the structure was... off. Like it was designed for a slightly different world than ours."
Another dinsion.
That explained a lot.
"The mana circulation paths didn’t match our laws, the core design was unstable, and the control system assud materials that simply don’t exist here," he said with a shrug. "Forcing it would’ve ended in an explosion."
"...That bad?"
"Bad enough to take the workshop with it," he replied flatly.
I let out a quiet sigh.
So that was the reason.
"Instead," Gruntar said, tapping the gauntlet, "we extracted only the parts that did make sense. Reinforcent runes. Energy amplification. Structural compression."
"This," he said proudly, "is the crystallization of the blueprint’s best elents."
I stared at Furion again.
It was compact, yes—but the mana it gave off was dense.
Refined.
Dangerously efficient.
Still...
"That’s a sha," I admitted.
I couldn’t hide the disappointnt in my voice.
If a rideable, controllable steel golem had actually been completed...
That would’ve been absurdly powerful.
A walking fortress.
A one-man army.
"You don’t look that disappointed," I added, glancing at Gruntar.
He wasn’t sulking.
If anything—he looked satisfied.
Despite having worked through the entire night, Gruntar looked surprisingly refreshed—almost relieved. There were no signs of exhaustion on his face, only a quiet satisfaction, as if a heavy burden had finally been lifted from his shoulders.
At my words, he slowly shook his head.
"It’d be a lie if I said I wasn’t disappointed," Gruntar admitted. "What I originally wanted to make was a steel golem."
His gaze dropped to the gauntlet in my hands.
"But the mont I saw what ca out of my forge..." he continued, his voice lowering, "that regret vanished completely."
He clenched his fist, as though recalling the sensation of shaping it.
"Even though I was the one who made it, I couldn’t help but think—this is sothing else entirely. Sothing... extraordinary."
There was no exaggeration in his tone.
Just quiet conviction.
I looked down at Furion again.
The faint glow of the runes pulsed steadily, like a restrained heartbeat.
"...Is it really that impressive?" I asked.
Gruntar let out a short, humorless laugh.
"Impressive?" he repeated. "If this thing had been discovered in a dungeon instead of forged by hand, people would’ve called it a national treasure."
That good, huh.
A strange weight settled in my chest as I tightened my grip around the gauntlet.
I had thought of it as a substitute.
A consolation prize for a failed golem.
But judging by Gruntar’s expression—
It seed I had severely underestimated what was now resting in my hands.
---
Author Note:
Happy new year
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