Reincarnated as an SSS-Ranked Blacksmith Who Refuses to Forge Weapons Chapter 9. When The World Notices

Three people were standing over Greg’s bed and looking at him when he woke up. "What the fuck...?"

He pulled the blanket over his head and said, "I’m probably still dreaming. If not, this is officially getting creepy."

"Master Greg, there are seventeen people waiting outside your workshop," Marina said in a happy tone, as if she wasn’t concerned about personal space.

"Eight adventurers, five rchants, three priests, and soone who says they are a food critic from the Imperial capital."

"Make them go away, and why the fuck did a food critic co to my workshop? Is he lost!? He must be looking for Lylia." Said by Greg from under the blanket.

"I can’t," Lylia said, putting a plate of breakfast on his workbench.

The enticing sll of Lylia’s cooking almost made Greg co out from under the blanket. "Half of them have been camping outside since dawn. One of the priests has been praying at your door for three hours straight."

"Why is he praying at my door? I’m not a god!"

"He thinks you’re a saint," Seraphine said, her voice making it clear that she thought the whole thing was funny.

"The Church of Light heard about the holy hoe incident. They’re calling it the ’Miracle of Peaceful Purification.’ There appears to be a debate going on at their headquarters about whether or not to make you a saint."

Greg got up so quickly that he almost fell out of bed. "Make a Saint? Oh, just burn already!"

"Make you a saint. Canonize you." As usual, Seraphine was taking notes.

"So people say you might be a god in disguise, which would make canonization unnecessary. The theological debate is very intriguing."

"I’m not a saint or a god! I’m just a blacksmith who wants to be left alone!" Greg ran his hands through his hair, which he was sure was sticking up at strange angles.

"How did this situation even happen?"

Lylia said, "You cleaned up a dirty forest with a farming tool," and she gave him a fork. "That’s not very subtle."

"And then the story got around," Marina said. "I might have told my guild about it."

"They might have told the national adventurer registry about it. The registry might have sent people to look into it and found that it was all true."

Greg looked at her and scread. "You told your... FUCKING guild!?"

"I was excited! We saved a forest by doing gardening! How can I not tell stories about sothing weird and cool at the sa ti?!" Marina said as she bounced on her heels.

"They also gave a promotion. I’m now Silver-rank instead of Bronze. My party has been receiving substantial commissions due to our affiliation with your items."

"Congrats on the promotion," Greg said in a sarcastic tone. "Now, please tell how to get rid of all these people."

"You could try making them things," Lylia said. "Give them what they want and let them go."

"That will bring in even more people!"

Seraphine said, "They’re already coming."

"Word got to the capital a week ago. The king wants to et with you in person."

Greg dropped his fork. "The king wanted to et in person, you say?"

"Well, his advisors did. They are genuinely interested in your peaceful purification thods." Seraphine flipped through her notebook.

"Also, the Mages Guild wants to study your techniques. The Adventurers Guild wants to commission protective gear. The rchants Guild wants to negotiate exclusive distribution rights. And the Church wants you to make holy artifacts for their temples."

"I’m going back to bed," Greg said while pulling the blanket over his head again.

Lylia said softly, "You can’t hide forever, Greg. Your work has made a difference."

"People are keen to learn from you, be safe because of what you make, or just et the famous blacksmith who makes farming tools stronger than legendary weapons."

The blanket muffled Greg’s voice. "I never aspired to beco legendary. I just wanted to make things that were useful in peace."

There was a pause, and then Seraphine’s notebook snapped shut. "Get everyone out. Give him so room."

"But the people outside are getting impatient," Marina said.

"Then they can keep being impatient," Lylia said with a firm voice.

"Greg needs ti to think about this. We’ll take care of the visitors."

Greg lay in bed and looked at the ceiling after they left. He had been trying to avoid this very thing of fa, attention, and people asking him for things. It had caused war and death in his last life. And now in this new life, it seed to be leading to becoming a saint and getting called to the throne.

He needed to make a plan. Alternatively, he needed to find a great place to hide.

Around noon, the fighting began. Greg could hear it from his workshop, where he had finally co out to work on a simple door hinge. It was just a normal door hinge, not magical at all, and it definitely wasn’t going to be SSS-rank.

Seraphine’s voice ca through the window, "I’m just saying that Master Greg needs the right representation."

"As a Royal Mage, I am able to handle negotiations with the kingdom and different guilds."

"And I’m saying he needs soone who really gets him," Lylia said in response.

"You’ve only known him for a week. I’ve been watching how he works and learning his philosophy. He doesn’t need a political advisor. All he needs is a friend to understand him the most."

"Thank you very much, but I can be both professional and friendly."

"You asked him about how he made things for three hours yesterday. He fell asleep twice."

Greg grimaced. He had fallen asleep during one of Seraphine’s more technical questions, but she had been explaining magical theory that could put a statue to sleep.

"That’s because he works too hard," Seraphine said in her defense. "Soone needs to make sure he gets enough sleep and eats well while doing all of this."

"Every morning I’ve been bringing him breakfast!" Lylia’s voice went up a little. "And lunch! And sotis dinner when he forgets to eat!"

"Yes, I’ve seen. You’re very observant."

There was a break. Greg couldn’t see their faces, but he could almost feel the tension.

"What do you an by that?" Lylia asked cautiously.

"Nothing at all. I’m just noting that you care about Master Greg’s health. I do too, of course, for research purposes."

"To do research." Seraphine looks around.

"Okay. And I guess teaching him to sing was also part of the research?" Lylia looks suspicious of how she talks.

"He offered to teach ! It’s a traditional blacksmith’s song that ans a lot to !"

Greg thought this was a good ti to step in before things got worse. When he opened the door, he saw Seraphine and Lylia standing very close to each other with their arms crossed, and their giant chests were clashing too, making Greg lose focus. Marina sat on a barrel nearby, eating an apple and watching the fight like it was a show at dinner.

"Hey ladies," Greg said.

"Is everything okay?" They both looked at him at the sa ti, and their faces changed from serious to happy smiles so quickly it was almost scary.

Seraphine said, "Everything’s fine."

"Perfectly fine," Lylia said.

Seraphine went on, "We were just talking about how to deal with your fans."

"I suggested that we take turns taking care of the visitors," Lylia said.

"I take care of the common people and adventurers, while Seraphine takes care of the official guild and kingdom representatives."

Greg said carefully, "That sounds fair, but what about the priests?"

"I’ll take care of them," Marina said.

"I know how to handle religious individuals based on my experience in the guild. Furthermore, I can tell them how your items really work in the field."

"Oh fuck no! That would make things worse," Greg said with a shocked tone.

"You’d just back up all their ideas about saints."

"Better than staying in your workshop forever," Marina said.

"Whether you like it or not, you’re famous now. The question is whether you want to control how people see you or let rumors do it for you."

Greg hated that she was right. "Okay. But I won’t make weapons for anyone, no matter who they are or what they offer."

""Agreed,"" all three won said at the sa ti.

"I’m not going to the capital unless I have to."

Seraphine said, "The king might insist."

Greg said, "Then the king can co here with his ass."

"I’m not leaving Ferndale. This is where I live now, and I’m happy to spend the rest of my life here until I die."

Lylia grinned. "Good. We’d miss you if you went."

"The village would be devastated," Seraphine quickly added.

"From an economic perspective, your presence has greatly improved the local economy."

"Right. Economics," Marina said with a smile that made it clear she knew what was going on.

...

...

They put their system into action over the next few hours. Seraphine made a proper schedule for official visitors, with forms and tis for appointnts.

Lylia was as patient with walk-ins as soone who had dealt with military red tape before. Marina happily told more and more outrageous stories about Greg’s stuff to anyone who would listen.

Greg watched from his workshop, but he would sotis go outside to answer questions or look at things that people wanted fixed. He t with people from three different guilds, two church groups, and a very nervous food critic who spent twenty minutes talking about how great Lylia’s cooking was before rembering to ntion Greg.

Finally, by evening, the crowd had gotten smaller. Greg fell onto his workbench, tired even though he hadn’t made anything all day.

"That was awful," he said.

"Tomorrow will probably be worse. The news is spreading faster now," Lylia said as she brought him dinner.

"Great! Sothing to look forward to," Greg said with a sarcastic tone.

Seraphine ca in with a thick folder of papers. "I’ve put together all the official requests and grouped them by how urgent and doable they are."

"The Church wants six holy farming tools for their monastery gardens. The Adventurers Guild wants cookware that can protect them at parties where there is a lot of risk. The rchants Guild wants to know if you’d be willing to teach apprentices."

Greg answered, "No, maybe, and definitely not."

"I thought so." Seraphine put down the folder. "I’ve written polite refusals for most of them."

"The King’s request still stands, though. He wants to et you this month."

"Let him know I’m busy."

"I don’t think that’s going to work."

"Tell him I’m dead."

"That would lead to a whole new set of problems."

Greg made a noise of pain. "Why can’t people just fuck off and let enjoy my life!?"

"Your creations are legendary artifacts that could probably cut through reality if they wanted to," Marina said as she ca in with another apple.

"You’re too good at what you do to be left alone."

"That’s the problem," Greg said under his breath.

But when he looked at the three won who had sohow beco a part of his crazy new life, he realized it wasn’t all bad. Is that annoying? Yes, of course. Too much? For sure. But it was also pleasing that people understood what he was trying to do, even if they didn’t agree on how to do it.

"Okay," Seraphine resolves. "We’ll figure this out together, but I won’t let you beco a saint. That’s the boundary I set."

[New Quest: Take care of your growing legend]

[Goal: Stay famous for a month without killing anyone]

[Reward: Peace and quiet (not likely)]

[The gods are betting on how long it will take you to crash out]

"One month," Greg told the system. "I can probably make it through one month."

The three won looked at each other but didn’t say anything. Everyone knew it would be a long month.