"Our last blacksmith left the Battalion a year ago. That's why we don't have many weapons."
The Orc girl explains with sparkling eyes as I grab an almost perfect iron slag.
Of course, I'm not doing it with my bare hands, that would be stupid.
I use one of the pliers from the smithy after dipping my burned hand into a barrel of cold water.
Whether the process takes hours or happens in an instant, the result is still white-hot metal.
You're not supposed to touch that.
[HP: 74/80]
Ignore that. It's a pinprick.
A pinprick that's hot to the extremes.
I blame the System. It has taken away two intelligence points so far, though I'm still on the upper end of the human average.
[Notice: Common sense falls under wisdom, which you have 16.]
[It shows that numbers cannot reflect the stupidity you brought with you into the game.]
Fuck you too.
Knowing it takes seconds to turn the ores into iron, I can't help but throw in everything I find in the smithy.
And since Mabel mentioned how underequipped the tribe is, I'm curious if I can make a few spears out of them.
Crafting covers smithing too and I know the stupid formula to make them, so why not?
Taking two planks and placing them on top of each other in the boxy UI presents me with sticks.
Placing two sticks over each other and a bit of iron on top and voila, I have a spear.
Without a single hammer swing, it's ridiculous.
It defeats the purpose of knowing how to do it. Oh well. If the tribe needs it, let's make a few anyway.
I only catch myself after two dozen spears lay at my feet and I run out of wood.
"A-amazing."
Seeing Mabel's eyes, this is not how they tend to do it, but if they think I'm the freaking Goddess, it should be fine. And to see that surprised face, it was already worth it.
It's not like I know how I do it. The System must use complex magic to make it happen, even though Alexandra said I should lay low.
But what better proof I can show to the Orcs that I'm her, than flexing my magical prowess?
Is it my magic, or the System's? Or does it count as Alexandra's? I'm asking this because of that magical fingerprint she mentioned on the first day.
Is it a good idea to rely on the System if it uses magic that could give away my position to Alex's enemies?
Well, after clashing with the First Bride, it's too late to be careful anyway. As the Orcs put it, she's the head of the Inquisition and the one who betrayed the Demon Lord.
It's not like I care about either of them, but I don't have much say if they care about me. One day, if I'm lucky, that's all I have to survive and then the Thirteenth Bride can sort out her mess.
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
Right. I was about to make a bed.
"Okay, I need to chop down another tree," I announce after using one more iron slag to make the shears.
That's the one thing I came for, of course, I didn't forget about it. I didn't come back later to do it either.
[Querry: Who are you trying to convince?]
It must be the System's fault. Somehow. I know I'm a klutz and an airhead but not to this degree.
Since my inventory can take it, I cut down a few more trees at once, so I can experiment with making other stuff too.
Even if it's silly when stuff appears out of thin air, it's still satisfying to create something. It's even better if the Orcs need it and I can help their everyday life.
It feels bad to trick them. Eat their food, and draw their enemy's attention without giving anything back. So since it doesn't cost me anything, I could go on a smithing spree.
But first, I tackle the sheep. Of course, their fleece teleports into my inventory once the shear touches it.
I'm done before the Orcs notice the spears and listen to Mabel's boasting about my lightning speed.
I rush back to Charlotte's hut before they can catch up and worship me. After playing with the UI a bit, a bed appears with neat covers, and I can't help but jump on it.
"Hah, I don't care how stupid it is if it works." This is much more comfortable than laying on the ground and getting straw everywhere.
"Your Highness. These spears..." Ah, they caught up.
It's about half a dozen Orc, some familiar from our first clash, looking wide-eyed at the bed I made. They seemed less animalistic earlier, but now they stare dumbfounded at the furniture.
"What about them?" I try to act as nonchalant as possible. Stare all you want, I'm not giving this baby away.
There's only enough fleece for one more, and Mabel earned the right to have that bed. Existing alone would be enough for her, but she was the MVP in the entire tribe this past week.
The Orcs drop to their knees.
"Praise the Goddess of Luck, we can finally hunt again with these spears."
"We no longer have to starve. Meat is back on the menu, boys."
"Wait, you guys were starving?" I sit up on the bed, surprised. That can't be, they provided me with such a feast when I arrived.
"You see, our spears couldn't come close in quality to yours, and they broke after a while. We were down to our last spear, and there's only so much you can hunt with a single hunter."
Mabel became the spokesperson of the worshippers. Last spear she says? I broke the one Charlotte used. They fed me all their food while they couldn't hope to hunt enough.
Damn it, now it feels bad to take it all.
"I can make something much better for hunting."
I must give something back to these people before Alexandra takes me home.