Reincarnated as an SSS-Ranked Blacksmith Who Refuses to Forge Weapons-Chapter 214. Fate’s Calculation

Bork pulled Greg aside a few minutes later, while the Brotherhood got ready for what was coming.

He was quiet for a while, which was out of character for him. Bork usually filled the silence with complaints about how loud things were or how hot the forge was.

But now he just stood there, nervously fiddling with his headphones... it felt weird for Greg.

"Hey, boss... How are you doing?"

Greg smiled through his tiredness. "Almost there probably..."

"Good." Bork paused and looked at the headphones he was holding. "I couldn’t even be in the same room as a blacksmith when I met you."

"I spent five years getting kicked out of every dwarven settlement because of my hammering allergy..." Bork giggled. "They called me broken, useless, and a disgrace to the Ironbottom name."

"I remember."

Bork went on, "You fixed that in one afternoon."

"You didn’t treat me like a broken dwarf... you just made the thing that helped."

"There’s no judgment to it... or even pity other than just solving this stupid dwarf’s problem." He looked at the headphones again, his voice softer. "I just wanted you to know that in case... things get out of hand."

"Things are already a mess."

"Then messier than this probably, hahaha..." Bork smiled a little. "But I’m fine... we’re all going to be fine."

"Let’s go show some gods what we’re made of."

He put the headphones back on, rolled his big shoulders, and picked up his hammer. After the talk, Bork went back to his place with the Brotherhood.

Greg saw him leave. There was something about the scene that made him want to call Bork back, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

It was a feeling like being on the edge of a cliff without knowing it.

He didn’t say anything.

The moment was over.

Valthor finished his math and charged.

With a goal in mind, the God of War swiftly traversed the arena in a matter of seconds. He went straight to the First Forge with his divine sword raised high.

Dorin faced him head-on.

Two figures collided with each other, their impact resembling the force of mountain ranges colliding. The impact made a shockwave that knocked everyone down within fifty feet.

Every time Dorin struck with his hammer, the arena transformed in some way. The walls grew stronger, and the ground remained stable. With each blow, the First Forge illuminated even more.

Valthor was stronger because his divine nature gave him a lot of physical power, but Dorin was smarter; he moved in a way that was exact and efficient. The way they were matched made it seem like they had been enemies for decades.

"Brotherhood!" Marina’s voice broke through the noise. "We’ve got Kael’thas!"

The God of the Forge was coming from a different direction, and his approach was more planned than Valthor’s.

She wasn’t in a hurry, but she was looking for weak spots in the First Forge’s structure where a divine strike could do the most damage.

Marina and Lylia immediately halted her progress. The Frying Pan of Eternal Flame was so hot that it would have melted regular metal.

This made a wall between Kael’thas and her target. The Ladle of Magical Dispersion hummed with power, ready to block any divine magic that came their way.

Seraphine made an Absolute Zero barrier in front of Kael’thas, and ice formed out of thin air and spread out in geometric shapes. The God of the Forge walked through it without stopping, but the ice behind her kept changing, making it harder and harder to get through.

Felix’s Infinite Luck System went crazy because there was so much divine energy around. Suddenly, housecats appeared, followed by a barrel, and finally, a boot was lost.

The randomness was working, making Kael’thas have to find his way around things he didn’t expect.

Elwen was enchanting the ground itself, making walls of protection that rose up under Kael’thas’s feet. Not attacking, just slowing down, changing direction, and making each step harder.

Mira and Donetta’s spirit forms made extra barriers around the non-combatant reincarnators who had chosen freedom, which helped protect the sanctuary.

Kael’thas was slowed down but not stopped. She stopped moving forward for a moment to look straight at the Key of Infinite Possibility, which was still glowing in Greg’s prosthetic hand.

"How did a mere mortal like him... make that?" she asked in a low voice, clearly confused. "That requires knowledge that shouldn’t exist outside of divine consciousness..."

"That requires understanding creation at a basic level."

She stopped walking, and her eyes moved from the key to Greg’s fake arm. Her divine features showed that she understood.

"The First Hammer... You didn’t just take our artifact, but you took it in and became a part of it."

Greg said, "I didn’t choose that myself, by the way."

"No. You didn’t." Kael’thas’s face was now more complicated, and Greg could see the emotion that had been hard to read before.

There was both respect and regret.

"That’s the problem... You’ve become something that our system can’t put into a category."

"That means I have to kill you before I can understand you, and that’s why... I’ve always hated that part of this job."

Then everything came to a halt.

Moira was done with her math.

The Goddess of Fate stopped moving completely, and all of her threads came together at one point. 𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂

She looked Greg straight in the eye. Then, slowly and on purpose, she looked at Bork.

She remained passive and non-threatening. She doesn’t have any reason for wanting to fight him; she just walked up to him to be near him.

She looked at Bork like someone looks at a door that is about to open.

Bork saw it right away. He lifted his hammer, and every muscle in his body was tense. "Back off now...! Stop what you’re doing!"

Moira said, "I’m not doing anything to you," her voice full of impossible harmonics. "I’m just looking."

"Then why does it seem like you’re reading my death?"

The silence in the arena felt like a real thing.

Valthor and Dorin even stopped fighting for a moment, their weapons frozen in the air.

Greg turned away from the forge, and his prosthetic arm suddenly lit up with alarm. "What the fuck did you just say?!"

Moira’s threads were now wrapped around Bork. They weren’t tying him up, but they were reading him like fingers tracing the last pages of a book.

With each beat of his heart, the golden strands pulsed.

"Every choice changes the threads," Moira said with the detached interest of a researcher looking at interesting data. "When you made the Key, the threads around your group changed..."

"Most of them got a lot longer." She paused and tilted her head. "But... one didn’t."

Greg’s blood froze. "Who?"

Moira looked at him like a god who didn’t fully understand pity and might have felt sorry for him.

"The one who has been wearing the thing you made for him since you met."

Bork’s hand went to his headphones.

He didn’t take them off. He stood there very still, and his face changed from confused to understanding to something that looked almost like acceptance.

Then he looked at Greg with eyes that weren’t scared. It was the look of someone who had just figured out something they had been half-expecting but didn’t know it.

Bork finally spoke, his voice steady. "Well," he said. "I guess I should make it count then."

Greg moved closer to him. "Bork, hold on—"

"Stop it...!" Bork’s voice was strong. "Don’t make that face... I fucking hate that face!"

He turned to see Dorin standing across the arena, frozen in place and staring at his grandson with a look of complete devastation. The old dwarf’s pipe had gone out, and the smoke was gone.

"Grandpa," Bork said, his voice getting softer. "Was this why you didn’t come?"

Dorin didn’t say anything.

The silence was enough of an answer.

"You saw this coming," Bork said, and things started to make sense. "And you knew about it..."

"That’s why you faked your death and stayed hidden for three years... it’s the reason you were trying to keep me from this moment."

"Bork," Dorin’s voice broke. "I’m sorry..."

"I tried to change it with every path and every option, but the threads always led me back here."

"How long have you known?"

"Since the day you were born." The old dwarf’s shoulders drooped. "I spent sixty years trying to find a way to make your thread longer..."

"It was always shorter than it should have been."

Marina was crying and had her frying pan down.

Lylia had her hand on her mouth.

Seraphine’s calmness when it came to analysis was completely gone.

Felix shook his head to disagree with the truth.

Elwen even looked shocked.

Greg’s prosthetic arm was on fire at full power, and circuits were running all over his body. "N-No...! Absolutely not!"

"There has to be another way," Greg said with a loud voice.

"There isn’t," Moira said plainly. "The threads don’t lie... and they never have in a million years."

"Then I’ll find another way!" Greg’s voice rang out across the arena. "I’ve broken all the other rules you’ve set! And I’ll FUCKING break this one too!"

Bork really did laugh, and it sounded like it was real. "Boss, you can’t fix everything..."

"Sometimes the numbers just don’t add up."

"I don’t agree with that."

"Yeah, well." Bork tightened his grip on the hammer and looked at the weapon Greg had taught him how to use. "You don’t have to accept it, but I do... And I probably... have."

He took a deep breath and looked at each member of the Brotherhood in turn.

Marina, who had fought with him in many battles.

Lylia, who had never viewed his allergy as a weakness, was also present.

Seraphine, who had figured out the forge temperatures for him, was also present.

Felix, who had made him laugh with his bad video game jokes, was also present.

Elwen, who had taught him that it was acceptable to despise violence, even if one was skilled at it, was also present.

And Greg, who had performed a small act of kindness for him on the first day they met, was instrumental in giving him his life back.

Bork said, "You all gave me three years I shouldn’t have had."

"Three years of being able to work a forge without pain... of having a family that didn’t see me as broken or mattering..."

"You matter." "Please, you matter to all of us," Greg said fervently.

Bork smiled, and Greg had never seen the dwarf’s face look so calm.

"I know, Boss... That’s why this is simple."

He turned to the gods and raised his hammer.

Bork’s voice rang out across the arena, "Come on then."

"Let’s make it famous!!!"

And the threads around him started to come apart.