Inside the lab, Luthar's focus narrowed on the data flowing across the holographic screen.
The goblins lay motionless within the containment chamber, twitching now and then, but otherwise docile. He observed their physiology, tapping commands into the system with the slow, deliberate rhythm of someone trying to wring meaning out of junk.
First, he examined the possibility of turning them into servitors—biomechanical hybrids integrated with machine systems. It was a crude concept, but in emergencies, any biomass could serve.
Unfortunately, reality was less generous. The deeper his research went, the more obvious it became: converting goblins into usable units like servo-skulls was grossly inefficient.
Despite their natural resilience, their biological structure had already begun to degrade. Removed from the dungeon's unique environment, their cells weakened and broke down. And that wasn't even accounting for their unstable behavior and malformed genetics.
Keeping them alive long enough would cost more than they were worth.
He sighed, pulling up their genetic profile.
Even the DNA was barely worthy of the term. Fragmented, Attempting to make any changes would only result in total collapse.
Complete waste of effort, Luthar thought, closing the files.
His attention drifted toward his reflection in the screen. His mechanical eye whirred softly as it adjusted focus, flickering red in the dim lab lighting.
I should look for the best to improve my body first. And I still don't have a proper weapon on hand… Not wise.
As for experimenting with divine blood, he wasn't ready.
He set the machines to begin producing a few standardized weapons. They would be sold in the coming days.
Once the production queues were active, he left the lab.
---
The moment Luthar stepped into the hallway, Hestia was waiting at the old wooden table, tapping her fingers against the wood with a mix of impatience and anxiety. She perked up the moment she saw him.
"Luthar! You finally came out."
"The table is not for sitting," he said plainly.
She rolled her eyes. "You're such a delight to talk to, seriously."
Ignoring the sarcasm, he moved past her. But then, she reached into a small cloth bundle and slowly unwrapped something.
"This… used to be Bell's sword."
She placed the object on the table.
Luthar stopped.
The so-called weapon was a warped, cracked blade—barely held together with glue and desperate patchwork.
"Is this a kitchen knife?" he asked.
"It's a sword!" she snapped. "Kind of."
She let out a heavy sigh. "He's doing his best, but we don't have money for proper gear. I wanted to ask a friend of mine—someone with a forge—but she's really busy right now."
Her voice dropped. "So I figured… Maybe you could help?"
She motioned subtly toward the hallway, toward the armory tucked behind sealed doors.
"Those weapons you keep displayed. They look like they haven't been used in a while. Maybe Bell could borrow one? Just until I can find something else?"
Luthar didn't bother turning around.
"No."
Hestia blinked at the bluntness.
"These weapons were built for enhanced users. Bell is not one. He would injure himself, or worse."
She folded her arms, visibly annoyed.
There was a short pause.
Then Luthar added, "However, I've started automatic production of standard-grade weapons. He may pick one up tomorrow morning."
Her expression softened. "Wait—you'll actually give him one?"
"Consider it an investment. If he survives long enough, he may return with funds. That would allow access to better weapons later."
"…That's actually helpful," she admitted, narrowing her eyes. "No conditions?"
"No conditions."
Hestia looked at him with curiosity. "What do you mean by 'automatic production' anyway?"
Luthar paused at the stairs and looked back. "It means I press a button, insert raw materials, and the machine does the rest."
The clunk of his boots echoed faintly as he ascended the stairs.
Hestia remained seated, quietly watching the warped blade on the table.
-
The next morning, Luthar handed Bell a newly forged, mass-produced sword. The weapon lacked flair; it was durable More than enough for a beginner.
Luthar didn't even stay to see how Bell reacted.
His focus had already shifted. First, increase the church's security Then, Luthar moved through Orario's quieter alleys, a box of newly crafted swords resting in a cart behind him.
His destination was little far—a modest building It had been empty for months. Now, it would serve as the storefront for his first official venture.
After replacing the locks with a biometric panel, he stepped inside—empty shelves. Bare walls. Dust lingering in the corners.
It would do.
He started working on installing a reinforced weapons rack and laying out a few displays for better weapons.
The current shop wouldn't attract the average adventurer so he decided to change the look from outside
As he started to think about the design, the door creaked open revealing a man outside.
"Ah, so the rumors were true," came a friendly voice.
Luthar turned slightly, recognizing the blue-haired god leaning against the doorframe.
The god stepped in with a calm smile, hands tucked into his sleeves. "I heard someone opened a shop near ours. I thought I'd come by and see what kind of neighbor we'd have."
Luthar offered no pleasantries, only a nod.
Miach glanced at cart inside; there was weapons and some tools.
"If your planning to sell weapons, this is not a good place."
"But it has a good rent," Luthar said. "And as long as I sell at 50% of the market, I won't have to worry about not selling."
"then you wood loose money," Miach replied.
"It's impossible for me to lose money," Luthar said, placing all the standard-grade swords in one corner under a wooden sign that read 50% Discount. He stepped back, arms crossed, eyes scanning the display with mechanical precisio"n.
"It's just a one-time offer to attract adventurers. Once I start selling high-grade gear, the shop's location won't matter."
Miach smiled at the confidence. "You've got a solid plan there."
Then he extended a hand. "I just realized—we haven't properly introduced ourselves. I'm Miach, god of the Miach Familia. We specialize in affordable potions."
Luthar glanced at the outstretched hand, then shook it with a firm grip. "Luthar. I'm a Tech-Priest who specializes in weapons, gear, and medical services."
"Medical services? That's an interesting way to put it," Miach said with a small chuckle. "But aren't you dabbling in a lot of things at once?"
Luthar's head tilted slightly. "Sometimes it's better to have more skills—especially when those skills complement each other."
Miach chuckled. "That's an interesting statement."
He paused for a moment, then added with a smile, If there's a chance, I'd like to work with you," Miach said warmly.
"We'll see," Luthar replied simply, he didn't dismiss the idea.