Soon after, I returned to my personal Runesmith with another sack of metal, this time containing a dozen pure Gromril ingots, salvaged form the underwater city. Quite heavy I would say, even for a strong human.

I tapped the gate gently with a Gromril ingot and just waited. A puffing Runesmith emerged form the city, grasping for breath. "How ... do you have refined Gromril?" he asked in between deep breaths. Must have ran all the way.

"So, I was thinking. Use one of these ingots to craft a pair of claws, which can be worn on the forearm, better if they can also retract. Another ingot for a warhammer with an axe head on the converse side. Then use nine ingots to make me a big club. Durability runes only, since I have enough strength and speed. And the last ingot is your payment for your time." I explained in a patient voice, and took out a paper with the desired weapons forms.

The Runsmith picked up the paper like it was an incendiary bomb, holding it with a cautious hand.

"The first two are possible, if hard work. But a club? Wasting so much priceless Gromril? Why?" the dwarf asked in an angry voice.

"So I can hit something really hard, of course. Do you know how bad I feel when I strike a Vampire with an expensive sword, and they both disintegrate into vapors?" I complained in a miserable voice.

"Even so, only durability runes?" the Runesmith asked in a superior voice.

Okay then. I will have to show him. Picking up a Gromril ingot, I clenched my hand with 20% of my real force, making the metal groan and bend inward. "I did say I am a bit too strong, right? And this is without spells to improve myself." I said with a raised eyebrow.

The Runesmith paled at the sight of his indestructible metal getting hand-pressed by an immovable time-lock field.

"You must be a Divine Avatar. What God has bestowed his gift on you?" the Runesmith asked with a knowing look. As expected, I wasn't the first superpowered being on this world.

And I might not the strongest either, I realized a minute later.

"I do bear the Mark of Taal, if that's what you mean, Runesmith. But I was strong even before I got it." I answered with a careless shrug.

"Prove it!" the Runesmith demanded with an eager voice.

So I showed him my scar. He just nodded, a bit more confident for some reason. "No wonder you act so wild, human. I've only heard of Dragons crushing Gromril in their claws, but a Divine Blessing could the do same, I suppose. You have a deal." he continued and spit into his palm to shake with me.

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I shook his hand, with great care not to liquefy it in my grasp. No wonder Martak had me handle bird eggs and tiny animals for a few months. With great strength comes high crushing power too. We shall never talk about the omelette. It never happened!

So, Dragons were quite strong then. I haven't met one yet, but I probably will one day. I will meet everyone important. And kill some of them. I could never forget that my existence on this world was meant only as entertainment for high realm beings that could bestow game-like powers on a normal human, for their own amusement. The thirsty gods always required notable achievements. Not unlike the local Gods, if I thought about it in the right way.

"Anyways, did you find more dwarf smiths to work on guns for my army?" I asked while producing a worn-out rifle from my back.

The Runesmith pursed his lips in disgust, as the weapon was made by humans and it showed. The quality was abysmal in his eyes.

"Mild iron barrel, with some kind of inner grooves? What for?" he asked a bit curious.

"The grooves are meant to spin the bullet, as to keep aim and range better. Works quite well, doubling both. But the grooves wear out too fast." I said with a mild voice.

The iron had been quite expensive, and the manufacturing as well. Then I took out a paper cartridge and showed the Runesmith the loading process.

The Runesmith nodded, and probably already knew of the method. "Quality steel will improve the weapon in all aspects, but especially durability."

"And I want them engraved with a durability rune as well. Mostly against battlefield magic that can target mundane weapons." I demanded in a lighter voice.

Professionals were easy to talk to, when dealing with their expertise.

"That too, and increase the lifespan of the weapon 10 times or more. You're a clever one, Warden of the East." the Runesmith hummed in his beard, then fired the gun at a stone wall to test its recoil, perhaps.

Then he smelled the air, and frowned. "New gunpowder too. The humans are always advancing, aren't they?" he asked a bit rhetorical.

After that, I took out a prototype socket bayonet, meant to be locked next to the barrel. "These bayonets will need a sharpness rune. If the enemy gets close and needs to be stabbed"

The Runesmith glanced at the Imperial Bayonet Mark 1 with a disgusted eye. "That they do. And steel instead of iron."

"I'll be back for my weapons next year." I allowed in with a wave of my hand and started to fly away.

"Two years!" the Runesmith yelled as he turned around.

Fine. I wasn't in a hurry. I didn't have 10000 gunmen for those rifles anyways.

It was time to bestow some rare relic weapons onto the Empire, and gain more goodwill and recruits. The Forge Masters in Nuln will also need about two years to craft 100 more Great Mortars for the army, as to better convey the doctrine of Superior Firepower onto our enemies.

While the exact methods of Hearts of Iron didn't translate exactly in this world, guns and cannons did the same thing. I will need to write down what I remembered from the World War doctrines, and adjust them to the local possibilities.

Then find a way to produce enough steel for a railway, and things could get better after. The Empire will love the steam trains, right?