My Quiet Blacksmith Life In Another World Manga Novels & Stories

Sweat ran down the back of my neck. The blacksmith was completely bald, but with a huge walrus moustache. He wore a heavy leather apron that made him look like he had nothing on underneath. I desperately hoped that wasn’t the case. He ignored me and continued to bang away — Pang! Pang! Pang! — red sparks flying in every direction. The hammer could have been borrowed from Thor. He picked a glowing object off the anvil with large pincers and plunged it in a bucket of water. Steam shot into the air. “What is it?” he finally said without looking at me.

“HERA TREE! I WILL REPORT THIS TO GAIA AND HERA!” We simply walked away from mad Rita and continued walking towards our destination. Maybe because it’s Friday that many people are in the market buying their own staff. We walked past by a blacksmith whose busy hammering and sharpening a newly built sword. His furrowed eyebrows show his seriousness in finishing all his masterpieces. He must’ve sensed my stares because he suddenly faced me. “What?” He asked in an annoyed voice. I shook my head and smiled. We continued walking. “I feel like Havoc’s trouble disorder transferred to you, Avy.” I looked at him surprisingly. Havoc on the other hand just chuckled.

One after another, one of the heroes stopped and tripped, the black mist touch a little bit of the helm of his shirt, turning it into ash that made the owner of the helm of the shirt that was turned into ash to widen his eyes, and before he could stand up again to run for his life, the black mist pas through his eyes, also making his sight blind and seeped through his soul, also turning him into ash, following suit from when his shirt was turned into ash. “AHH!” one after another, scream, and howl broke out, many screams as they realize they could not stop this from happening. They despaired because why does their ability did not work on this black mist? And who dared to make someone that ha

I sighed in relief when I found the notebook still sitting there the way I put it back. I took the notebook and went to my father’s chair, sat down, and started to read. “The moon hung low, and everything was so quiet and peaceful. Unknown to everyone, something big is about to happen.” I creased my forehead after the first paragraph; based on how the author wrote it, it had already happened. So, the one who wrote this is a pack member who is close to my family since it has been kept safe in our family.

********************************** Hi darling readers,thank you so much for reading my first book and I hope to see you in my second coming soon book' Red Thread of Fate' promise you it will be worthy reading cause it gonna be epic and very interesting. Once again I say a bigbig thank you to you all.

Maybe in my dreams. ”Hungry… hungry…“ I heard a voice of a teen saying those words. His eye was black. I mean.. Completely blank but his other eye was completely white. Why is it like that?.. There is also a weird button on his head. But… What was that for? ”Hungry…“ He seems to be hungry at some point. Picking some food I have from the storage space, I shove a whole sushi into his mouth. Munch Munch Munch

On the other end of the Tribulation World… There was another fierce battle taking place here. An individual was fighting ferociously against a horde of Heavenly Path Embodiments. He was a man clad in black armor that was now in tatters. He was covered in blood, and his hair was disheveled. At that moment, he seemed to have sensed something. Gazing into the distance for a brief moment, a faint smile crept up on his face as he murmured, "I never thought there'll be others in this world."

I take punch after punch and hear Anya cry, “Please stop! You’re going to kill him.” I stagger a step back while a grin spreads over my face, “It will take a hell of a lot more than this to kill me, sweetheart.” The next punch to my nose drops my ass to the floor. The men start to kick, and when a boot slams into my head, everything goes black. XXX

“You’ve been tired a lot lately.” The blacksmith glanced between us, then wisely focused on his work. “I don’t need anything fancy,” he added. “Just something balanced.” I risked a glance at him. He wasn’t looking at the blade anymore. He was looking at me. “I’m glad you’re here,” he said quietly. “Oh,” was all I could say. “There’s just something different about you these days,” he said, tucking a strand of hair away from my face. “It’s almost as though you’re someone else.”

The cloaked woman’s monstrous voice turned cold, “For your crimes against our lord—the pale wolf, the white bull, the creator and ruler of this new world—I sentence you and those you love to death.” “NO!” Blakely’s scream was agony given form, so raw and desperate that it brought me to my knees. She lunged for her mates, my brothers, just as the faceless assassin’s unsheathed their daggers. The world froze as I watched them slit their throats. Blakely’s screams grew louder, cracking across the stone. Her pain thickened the air. Her sobs dug down to my very soul. Could they hear her cries in other realms? Could they hear her shrieks within the caws of a bird or within the crash of vicious wav