"Relax, he won't forget. Besides, don't forget—he's a night owl!"
"Ugh—but I'm still so frustrated."
The elven girl puffed up her cheeks and pouted.
"Hahahaha, then just wow him in the dungeon tomorrow and make him take notice!"
With that, the human girl Elfy, Lefiya's roommate, nudged her shoulder.
The two of them chatted and bickered as they returned to their room.
---------------------------------
The labyrinth city Orario seemed to awaken from slumber, brimming with vitality.
In a desolate courtyard somewhere—the sound of hammering that had echoed throughout the night had returned to silence.
Fron wiped the sweat that had been roasted onto him by the furnace and looked on with satisfaction at his first creation.
It was a deep brown belt with eight pouches, arranged in four twin pairs: front-left, front-right, back-left, and back-right. Fron loved dark colors the most.
The belt had a double-layered structure and, when wrapped around the waist, formed an X shape, sitting snugly at the hips. The pouches were evenly distributed among the four positions.
The primary materials were drop items from the 12th floor—"Orc Hide" and "Rabbit Fur"—along with a small amount of "Refined Metal" used for buttons and clasps. Even ignoring its defense and functionality, just in terms of appearance, it was clearly a high-quality item.
"Looks pretty decent—you've got better taste than I expected," said Welf, stroking his chin and praising Fron's first creation.
"Taste is innate, you know. It's not something you can envy. Like beast-people and elves—you get what I mean, right?"
"Don't let those short-tempered folks hear you. You'll get what's coming to you."
"What are you thinking? I was talking about males! Cat girls and dog girls are also super… cute, aren't they?"
"Ugh? You act all proper on the outside, but you're a closet perv. Basically, you're all lust and no guts!"
"Ahem!"—Fron, who was drinking water, spit it out instantly, cursing inwardly: You're no saint yourself.
"Back to the point, we're exploring the dungeon today—you're still good to go, right?"
"Huh? What are you even saying? Blacksmiths pulling all-nighters for several days is totally normal. You're the one I should be worried about—just a mere mage."
Fron simply smiled in response.
As a "Reader," his abilities doubled at night, and with his high mental stats, losing a night of sleep was just the difference of missing a good dream.
Of course, things would be different inside the dungeon.
"Let's go! I'll head back and sort my gear. Same time, same place!"
"Right, I need to head back too."
After parting briefly from his friend, Fron jogged back to their estate residence in high spirits.
As expected, he found Ais practicing her sword swings in the courtyard.
"Good morning, Ais-chan."
The doll-like princess tilted her head, expressionless.
"—Ahem."
Fron couldn't keep the conversation going at all—he definitely didn't have Tiona's charm.
"What's that?"
The girl's attention was drawn to the item in his hand.
His lips curled upward—indeed, the joy of crafting something with your own hands is only truly released when you show it off.
"Well? This belt!"
"So many pouches—is it for rear-guards? To go with magic robes?"
As expected of a seasoned adventurer—she saw through it at a glance.
Front-liners needed to engage monsters head-on, and intense combat would often damage supplies, so they usually carried only spare weapons.
Mid-liners had to prioritize mobility, so they only used two pouches at most, and usually had thigh holsters.
Only rear-guard mages or healers, who didn't need to fight head-on or maintain high mobility, could carry large amounts of supplies and backup equipment.
That's why Fron designed the belt with eight small pouches on a crisscrossing double-layered structure.
Each pouch had its own use—for carrying "potions," "tools," "magic items," or "secondary weapons."
"This is really good gear. And this line—could it be?"
Yes—in an inconspicuous spot on the belt was a signature.
"Made by: Fron Argon."
Just writing that beautiful signature in the common tongue filled him with deep satisfaction.
"Yeah, it's the result of an entire night's effort—my very first creation."
Ais opened her mouth slightly, a little admiring.
"Amazing—Fron, a mage, actually learned smithing—"
"There's an old saying in the Far East—'more skills never weigh you down.' Oh right, I'm in a hurry. I'll head up now!"
"Mm—"
After watching him bounce away joyfully until he disappeared, Ais gradually snapped out of it.
Tilting her head cutely, she muttered to herself:
"Smithing, huh—is that also part of knowledge? Fron is really amazing."
Elsewhere—
Feeling refreshed as he returned to headquarters, Welf hummed an unfamiliar tune while organizing his gear and supplies.
"Well well, Welfy's in a good mood, huh? Humming and all. Something good happen? Spill it."
"Why is it you—"
It was a girl with Far Eastern features. Judging by how easily she could rest her arm on Welf's neck, she was definitely over 170 cm tall. Yet she was a "half-dwarf" born of a human and a dwarf.
Possibly due to stronger human genes, she didn't show any typical dwarf traits—like short arms or legs.
Rumor had it that her height made many regular dwarves jealous.
Unlike the mainstream attire in Orario, the girl's clothes (or work outfit) were in the Far Eastern style typical of her mother's homeland.
A vermilion short hakama, tightly wrapped bandages, and an eyepatch over her left eye.
Tsubaki Collbrande—Level 5, a top-tier adventurer.
Though a woman, she stood at the top of the prestigious blacksmith familia [Hephaistos Familia], which housed many elite smiths. She was Orario's undisputed strongest smith, and the familia's captain.
"Welfy—sniff sniff—this smell isn't from your forge. It's unfamiliar."
Tsubaki narrowed her one eye, staring at Welf with a strange look.
"Hey, don't get the wrong idea. Someone just asked me to teach them smithing, that's all."
"Oh? A rookie, huh. And you? Teaching a newbie? Don't lie."
"It's true!"
"Hehehe, spill it. What's their name? Not from another familia, right?—eh? Wait, really?"
Welf continued organizing his gear, looking totally annoyed, and nodded:
"Yeah. From Loki Familia."
"Oho, Loki Familia, huh. What's their name? I'll ask Finn when I see him. Haven't cuddled that shota in a while—kinda miss it—"
"…Fron Argon."
Tsubaki folded her arms, puzzled for a while, but nothing came to mind. Normally, with [Loki Familia] being such close strategic partners with [Hephaistos Familia], everyone from the main god down to the members were practically all familiar, and many smiths even had exclusive contracts.
For someone unfamiliar to pop up—it was too strange.
"Fron Argon—never heard of him."
Welf grumbled in annoyance:
"I told you, he's a rookie! A rookie! Also—don't you have work? Aren't there tons of orders? Why are you still hanging around here?"
"Boohoo. Welfy actually hates me this much."
"Terrible acting!"
"Ugh, boring. Someone placed a magic sword order yesterday."
"What's that got to do with me."
"I'm talking about you! You know the field. You want to get closer to it. But you still naively think you can catch up to them without giving it your all? Idiot!"
Like she had suddenly become a different person, Tsubaki's eyes gleamed fiercely.