Hitman with a Badass System

"You can?" Nazrag was stunned to hear Michael's confident assertion.

As the system deducted the two million points and relayed the information about the missing modules and their purposes, Michael endured the familiar pain in his mind. Ignoring Nazrag's astonishment, Michael stepped forward, locking eyes with Rurik.

"Can you take the artifact out of the casing?" Michael asked. Rurik and Aranion exchanged glances, then Aranion carefully removed the lid of the glass casing and gently lifted out the artifact.

"Careful," Rurik cautioned as the elven master blacksmith placed the artifact beside the empty glass casing.

Michael began to explain, "There are three missing modules. First, it lacks a proper conductor. Second, there's no medium to store the lightning energy. Third, it needs something strong yet lightweight to discharge the stored energy."

The elven blacksmiths' eyes widened as Michael's words started to make sense.

"Give me a few parchments and something to draw with. I'll design the modules. But what do I get in return?" Michael inquired, looking at the three master blacksmiths.

"If it's up to us, we'll make you one of our fellow master blacksmiths," Aranion declared. Unlike many elves, Aranion appeared open and welcoming to new talent.

"You fix the artifact, and you deserve to be our equal. So I agree with Aranion," said Nazrag, the orc.

"Well, lad, I'm not going to sugarcoat it. We have no authority to make you a master blacksmith; only the guildmaster can do that. But I can give you my word that when the guildmaster arrives, we will make you a master blacksmith. Since he isn't here, we'll have to settle for gold coins or something of equal value," Rurik explained.

"We also need a token to attend the divine tower auction. I assume your guild has one," Ayag chimed in from her perch on Michael's shoulder.

"Yes, we do have one. You can attend the auction with us," Aranion offered, noticing Michael's interest.

"I agree. As for my payment, you need to buy me one thing I would ask for in the Divine Towers auction," Michael proposed.

Michael's initial plan had been to steal the book written by Seshat's angel. However, if he could convince the blacksmith guild to buy it at the auction, it would make his life much easier.

"I think I can agree to that, given you succeed in making these modules in time," said Rurik.

For a prestigious and wealthy guild like the blacksmith guild, buying one item at the auction was a small matter. If Michael could successfully forge the artifact and save the guild's relationship with the the Silverbrook family, it would save them millions of gold coins. Hence, the three master blacksmiths immediately agreed.

"Great," Michael said.

Aranion promptly brought over several parchments and a quill, laying them out before Michael. The young blacksmith began sketching the missing modules with a focus that reflected his considerable skill.

The modules Michael designed were intricate pieces of artistry. They resembled delicate, elongated spirals of metal, reminiscent of coiled springs, with fine etchings and runes inscribed on their surfaces.

Each module had a small, hollow chamber in the center, almost like a minuscule thundercloud. Michael's design incorporated delicate wirework, which, in the completed artifact, would catch the energy from lightning strikes.

As Michael worked, Rurik couldn't contain his curiosity. "Lad, how did you come up with this design? It's unlike anything I've seen before," he inquired.

Michael continued his precise work but answered Rurik's question without looking up.

"These designs are based on my knowledge and experience. I've encountered similar principles in my previous works, but I've adapted them to suit the needs of this artifact. The intricate etchings will help channel and control the lightning's energy. The hollow chambers will store it, and the coiled springs will provide a controlled release."

As he finished explaining, Michael's hand moved confidently, putting the finishing touches on the module designs. Each line and rune seemed to be placed with precision, a testament to his exceptional craftsmanship.

Once the last module design was complete, Michael carefully rolled up the parchments and handed them to Rurik. "Here you go. These are the designs for the missing modules. Now, let's get to work. We have an artifact to complete."

The three master blacksmiths studied Michael's designs closely. They traced the intricate lines with their fingers, discussing the functions and potential challenges of each module. After a thorough examination, they nodded in agreement.

Aranion spoke first, his elven wisdom evident in his tone. "These designs appear to be quite ingenious. It's unconventional, but I believe they might just work."

Nazrag, the orc, grunted in approval. "I've seen many blueprints, but this lad's ideas show promise."

Rurik, the dwarf, gave a hearty laugh. "Alright then, lad, let's fire up the forge and put these designs to the test."

With determination in their eyes, they gathered around the forge. Michael took the lead, instructing them on the forging process in detail. He had them fetch various metals, including gold, silver, and some lightweight yet sturdy alloys. Michael also required specialized tools and a specific type of hammer.

As the bellows pumped air into the forge, the flames roared to life, casting an intense, radiant heat. Michael divided the metals into batches, explaining the importance of each one for different parts of the modules. With practiced hands, he demonstrated the precise techniques required for shaping and working the metals.

Soon, they were all actively involved in the forging process, forging different components of the modules. Aranion expertly etched the intricate runes onto the metal surfaces, while Nazrag skillfully assembled the coiled springs. Rurik specialized in the delicate wirework, ensuring the modules would capture and control the lightning's energy.

As they worked together, the boundaries between master and apprentice blurred. The three master blacksmiths had become Michael's willing and skilled helpers. The forge echoed with the rhythmic sounds of hammers striking metal, and the room filled with the intense heat of creation.

"It's finished," Michael declared proudly, holding up three completed modules. These modules, intricate in design and precise in craftsmanship, were the culmination of their collaborative effort. He placed them carefully next to each other on a worktable, and the three master blacksmiths inspected them with keen eyes.

Aranion nodded in approval. "Impressive work, lad."

Nazrag grunted his agreement, a rare sign of satisfaction from the stoic orc.

Rurik's eyes gleamed with anticipation. "Now, the true test is integrating these into the artifact."

Michael nodded, fully aware of the stakes. "I'll handle the installation. It's better if I do it."

As he carefully picked up the cubical artifact, Ayag and Sarba, perched on his shoulders, couldn't help but express their concerns.

"Be careful. We don't want to explode into bits," Ayag warned, her tone anxious.

Sarba chimed in, "Yeah, please take your time, and make sure it's secure."

Michael reassured them with a confident smile. "Don't worry, I've got this."

With precision and unwavering focus, he began to install the modules into the cubical artifact. The delicate work required a steady hand and an understanding of the artifact's inner workings. Michael moved with grace, securing each module in its designated place, connecting the conductors, and ensuring the storage mediums were properly aligned.

The room was filled with tense anticipation as the blacksmiths watched, holding their breath. But Michael remained calm and composed, his every movement deliberate and measured. As the final module was secured, a sense of accomplishment filled the air. The artifact, now complete, seemed to pulse with newfound potential.

With a satisfied nod, Michael stepped back from his work. "There we go. The artifact is now ready."

The cubical artifact, now fully assembled and brimming with potential, came to life with a mesmerizing display of light. It pulsated with energy, casting an ethereal glow in the workshop. Aranion couldn't help but smile at the sight.

"Now, all we need to do is provide some lightning to the artifact to see if it's truly absorbing and storing the energy," Aranion explained, his eyes fixed on the artifact's mesmerizing display.

He turned to Nazrag, the orc master blacksmith, and instructed him, "Nazrag, fetch Kranar's crystal."

As Nazrag left to retrieve the crystal, Michael waited with a mix of curiosity and anticipation. Kranar, the god of thunder, held immense power over lightning, and the idea of testing the artifact with his crystal added an exciting element of challenge. Michael was eager to see their creation in work.

"What's taking him so long?" Ayag perched on Michael's shoulder asked after waiting for Nazrag's return.

"It shouldn't take this long," Aranion agreed with Ayag.

"There he is," Rurik said as the door suddenly opened, revealing Nazrag holding a deep blue crystal crackling with lightning bolts. Michael noticed the artifact reacting, emitting a low humming sound. However, their attention shifted abruptly as they saw a dark figure, robed in black, holding Nazrag hostage. The figure had a cold, curved dagger pressed against the orc's throat.

"Who are you? How did you get in here?!" Rurik roared, brandishing his hammer in preparation to attack.

Aranion swiftly flicked his wrist, conjuring a fine-edged sword into his hand. The two master blacksmiths were startled by the intruders.

"Don't try anything unless you want me to spill this orc's blood all over the floor," the figure behind Nazrag threatened.

Michael remained composed, but he sensed a growing number of hostiles surrounding them.

"Guards!" Rurik shouted, but no reinforcements arrived.

"Don't bother. They are dead," the figure behind Nazrag snarled.

"Give us the artifact, and we can avoid further bloodshed," the second figure demanded coldly.

"You fools have no idea what you've done. You're dead!" Rurik retorted, eliciting a mocking laugh from the intruders.

"As much as I'd like to see a puny dwarf threaten me, I want the artifact more," said the figure, whose height and build indicated an orc.

"Don't... don't give them the artifact," Nazrag added defiantly, refusing to be intimidated by the blade at his throat.

"My associate will come for the artifact. Be good doggies and stand down," the figure said confidently. Another dark-robed figure emerged from the shadows, their forms illuminated by the eerie orange glow of the forge's fires.

"I won't allow you to take the artifact!" Nazrag shouted, attempting to launch an attack against the figure holding the dagger.

The dark-robed figure merely snickered, displaying a twisted smile, and with a swift, brutal motion, he slit Nazrag's throat. The orc fell to the ground, blood pouring from the grievous wound, his life slipping away.

"BASTARD!" Rurik's response was an enraged roar that echoed through the hall, his fury at this senseless act of violence boiling over.

The dark-robed figure callously wiped the blood from his dagger as Nazrag's lifeless body lay motionless on the floor.

Without a hint of remorse, the figure coldly ordered his comrades, "Kill them all and take the artifact."