I CHOSE to be a VILLAIN, not a THIRD-RATE EXTRA!!-Chapter 156: The Forge

Ashok moved through the silent paths, his footsteps steady as he ventured farther from the main campus, the bustling life of the Academy fading behind him.

By now, he had gone so far that there wasn't a single student in sight—just the vast openness of the quiet night, wrapped in the soft glow of the moon above.

The air was crisp, cool, untouched by the distractions of the day.

Lifting his gaze, Ashok noticed it—a vast plume of gray smoke, curling into the sky in thick waves, released from an unseen source ahead.

Yet something felt... off.

There was no scent of burning coal, no acrid sting of smoke in the air—nothing that should have accompanied such immense emissions from a forge.

And even stranger—the smoke didn't linger.

Instead, it vanished at a certain height, dispersing as though swallowed by some unseen force.

'Miracles of Magic,' Ashok mused, watching the impossible unfold before his eyes.

As he continued forward, the source of the smoke revealed itself—a massive forge, towering in the distance, its presence unmistakable.

It looked less like a mere blacksmith's workshop and more like a fortress built of stone and iron, its imposing walls crafted from thick, blackened bricks, reinforced to withstand the intense heat of relentless forging.

Rising above the structure, multiple chimneys stood like towering sentinels, each releasing steady plumes of smoke from the roaring furnaces within.

In the depths of the moonlit night, the forge stood in stark contrast—brilliant and alive, its surface illuminated by the fiery glow of molten lava flowing along hand-carved channels embedded within the brickwork.

The craftsmanship was deliberate, intricate, a design that merged raw power with artistry, transforming the structure into something that looked more like a lair than a workshop.

Near the towering chimneys, massive stones bore the carved visages of gargoyles, their fierce expressions frozen in time.

Their mouths left open, as though mid-roar—yet instead of sound, what poured forth was a steady stream of molten lava, cascading down the forge's exterior like veins of liquid fire, winding its way into underground canals beneath the structure.

A sight both terrifying and magnificent, the forge was a masterpiece of ancient architecture and magical engineering.

If one were to witness it for the first time, they might not mistake it for a simple blacksmith's workshop.

No—this was the lair of an Earth Dragon.

As Ashok took in the sight, a familiar thought resurfaced, a realization he had been confronted with time and time again.

Even after having seen countless structures through the game, he still struggled to grasp the aesthetic logic of this world.

First—the Duke, who had covered his entire mansion in gold, turning his residence into nothing short of a palace of vanity.

Second—the Academy itself, constructed in the shape of a grand castle.

And now—this forge, a place dedicated to the craft of smithing, yet designed to resemble a dragon's domain rather than a workshop.

'Is this what they call artistic vision?' Ashok thought, exhaling a quiet sigh before making his way toward the large gates.

The massive gates loomed before Ashok, closed and unmoving, their presence imposing even in the cold embrace of the night.

Yet, despite the chill in the air, a wave of heat radiated from the edges of the doors, seeping through the small cracks, wrapping around him in an unrelenting warmth.

Just standing nearby made him feel as if he were beside an open furnace, the sheer intensity enough to override the night's cool breeze.

Ashok knocked softly, waiting for a response.

Knock!

Knock!

Seconds passed—then a minute—yet nothing came from inside.

Undeterred, he knocked again—louder this time.

KNOCK!

KNOCK!

Still—silence.

The forge remained still, unresponsive.

Ashok refused to knock a third time.

Instead, he stepped back two paces, squared his stance, and raised his leg—

Then, with firm determination, he kicked the gate.

THUD!

Yet still, no immediate response.

Again, Ashok delivered another solid kick—

THUD!

And finally—a reaction.

A metallic screech cut through the silence, followed by the sound of shifting gears as a small sliding observatory window creaked open within the mini gate.

Inside, a sweat-drenched face emerged, the man behind the window breathing heavily, his expression marked with exhaustion.

His voice came out firm—though clearly drained from the heat inside.

"For visitors, the Forge timings are 12:00 P.M. to 4:00 P.M. Come tomorrow." Said the man looking at Ashok.

Ashok voice rang out firm and commanding—

"Open the gates. I want to meet Teacher Hamiel."

The man behind the observatory window let out an exasperated sigh, his exhaustion evident in his tone.

"Hah! Teacher Hamiel doesn't meet anyone without an appointment—especially not at night. So, get—"

His words, laced with dismissal, carried the unspoken expectation that Ashok would turn away and leave.

But Ashok had no intention of complying.

Before the man could finish his sentence, Ashok acted swiftly.

Without hesitation, he pulled out his ID Card and threw it through the narrow gap of the sliding window.

The card sailed through the air, unnoticed in the dark night, until—

It struck the man squarely in the face, catching him completely off guard.

As the startled blacksmith recoiled, Ashok's voice followed, calm yet carrying undeniable authority—

"He gave me a Gold Pass to this place and personally invited me. Who do you think you are to reject me when the owner himself granted me entry?"

Silence hung in the air.

The phrase 'Gold Pass' had halted the man's thoughts entirely, his irritation quickly replaced by realization.

Almost frantically, he bent down, retrieving the fallen ID Card from the ground, hands steady—until he saw it.

The golden hammer insignia stamped onto the card gleamed under the soft flickering glow spilling from the forge's flames.

A sign of direct approval from Hamiel himself.

The moment his eyes registered the symbol, his grip faltered, and for a brief second, the card almost slipped from his grasp entirely

The blacksmith's voice trembled as he spoke, his previous confidence completely shattered—

"E-Esteemed Guest, please give me a minute so I can confirm with Teacher Hamiel."

His demeanor had changed entirely, shifting from dismissive skepticism to anxious reverence.

Yet, before he could hurry off, Ashok's voice rang out, calm yet firm—

"Return my ID Card first."

The man froze, quickly nodding as if handling something sacred, his hands visibly unsteady.

"Ah! Yes."

With careful movements, as though pushing a treasure through the gate, he slowly passed Ashok's ID Card back, ensuring it was properly returned.

Ashok took the card, and with that, the observatory window slammed shut, leaving him alone outside.

A minute passed in silence, Ashok standing before the massive gates, staring at the structure without much expectation—

Until—

CRANG!

CRANG!

The thunderous groan of metal chains pulling, the unmistakable rumble of mechanisms shifting, and the slow, deliberate movement of the colossal forge gates began.

Ashok blinked.

'Have they gone crazy? Why open the entire gate when there's a mini gate right there?'

The thought barely settled in his mind before a surge of heat rushed forward, escaping through the widening gap, slamming into him like a fiery gust from the heart of a volcano.

The unbearable heat roared forth, an invisible force pressing against Ashok like a furnace door suddenly swung open, the intensity only growing as the gates continued their slow, grinding ascent.

Yet, waiting for them to fully open was unnecessary—the gap was more than wide enough for his entry.

CLANG!

CLANG!

The deafening strike of hammers against metal echoed through the space, each impact ringing like thunder trapped in steel, accompanied by the overwhelming rush of heat and the scent of molten ore.

The atmosphere was alive, charged with the essence of creation—the relentless forging of weapons, armor, and tools within the heart of blazing furnaces.

The first thing to catch Ashok's eye was an enormous furnace looming in the distance, its presence dominating the workspace.

Surrounding it, a network of metal pipes twisted and coiled, running across the walls like veins feeding the forge's insatiable hunger for heat and magic.

As his gaze swept across the scene, the true scale of the forge unfolded before him—

A seemingly endless expanse filled with countless furnaces, their flames roaring, their workers moving with precision and skill, each station dedicated to refining raw metal into something greater.

Lifting his eyes, he noticed the upper floors, marked by partitioned rooms lined with bricks, elevated platforms housing more private forging chambers, each one dedicated to specialized crafting.

[Attention Level: Maximum]

[False Monarch]

The moment Ashok stepped inside, his attention level again sky rocketed

From the smaller forges, a wave of students emerged, their movements synchronized as they surrounded him, forming a loose but unmistakable circle of scrutiny.

Each one bore a heavily muscular frame, their bare torsos glistening with sweat, clad only in work-forged pants, their hardened physiques a testament to relentless labor and strength.

Their eyes raked over Ashok, their expressions filled with curiosity, skepticism, and intrigue.

And then—the whispers began.

"He got the Gold Pass of the Blacksmith Department."

"Did Teacher Hamiel really give away a Gold Pass to someone?"

"He doesn't look much like a blacksmith."

Ashok exhaled, irritation creeping in as he listened to their murmurs.

'I didn't come here just to get scanned by these muscle gorillas and hear their comments on me. Just where is that shorty?'

His patience was wearing thin, the sheer unwanted attention grating against his focus.

Then—laughter cut through the noise, a deep, aged chuckle carrying both authority and excitement.

"HAHA! I knew Blacksmithing will attract you and see you have come, Adlet!"

The gruff voice of Hamiel echoed through the forge, filled with genuine amusement and anticipation.

Ashok finally turned his gaze toward the voice, knowing that his real reason for coming here had finally surfaced.