Prodigiously Amazing Weaponsmith - Chapter 4753 - : Three Months

“Spread your legs...” That haunting command was all she remembered from the grey-eyed stranger—the man she shared a night with.Now, Ariana is branded as cursed. The girl who killed her mother. A silent omen wrapped in whispers and fear. But the truth? It’s locked inside her, buried beneath silence… because Ariana is mute.And when fate cruelly reunites her with the very man who started it all, how can she defend herself—when she cannot even speak?In a world where rumors are louder than truth, will anyone ever hear her side of the story?

...[Inside an underground basement]“You are going to die for nothing, hahahaha,” the old man's voice thundered through the room, sending chills down my spine.Step.With a swift and ruthless motion, he lunged forward, his sword slicing through the air and slashing my throat, crimson droplets staining the darkness.“We'll see,” I whispered defiantly, my final words escaping as a mere breath against the impending darkness.Slowly, inexorably, my consciousness slipped away, and I descended into a deep, unfathomable slumber.“Huh!?” My eyes fluttered open, and I found myself seated in a bustling tavern, the air thick with laughter and the clinking of glasses.In front of me stood a captivating lady, her beauty juxtaposed with an angry furrow upon her brow, threatening to shatter the harmony of the jovial scene.“Don't follow me around!” Her words pierced the air like shards of ice, the intensity of her emotions palpable as she cast a resentful glare in my direction, before swiftly departing from the tavern....Am I trapped within the confines of a game? The fragments of my shattered common sense scattered before me, leaving me to question the very fabric of my reality.

I was just your average burnout. Now I’m a kobold in a dungeon where everything wants to eat me—and frankly, I get it. I look delicious.Reincarnated as the weakest possible monster in the worst possible place, I start with nothing but panic, backward knees, and a skill called Civilization Mimicry—which is sealed. Because of course it is.But survival isn't the story.This is the story of what comes after.Of finding meaning in the scraps. Of building law from ashes. Of kindling memory in a place designed to erase.Because even if the world sees kobolds as nothing, I’ve seen what we used to be.And I’m going to bring it back.Firelight by firelight. Burial by burial. One fragile tradition at a time.Because if the world wants kobolds to be nothing?Then I’ll teach it what nothing becomes when it learns to dream.

Starting from today, I am retired. But what should I be doing? I neither have the skills, nor the mind to do business, my only advantage is this pair of hands which have taken this world. What a headache…

Note: The usage of the term “retired” here doesn’t mean retiring from old age, work etc. It’s a specific term to refer to not involving oneself in the affairs of a certain society.