Lust System: Conquering the World Beauties

The dwarf’s bloodshot eyes moved slowly across the group before settling on Liam. For a few seconds, he simply stared at them without saying anything, his enormous beard hanging messily over his chest while one hand remained wrapped around the leather wine pouch he had apparently been clutching even in his sleep. His expression was a strange mixture of suspicion, annoyance and drunken confusion, as though he had woken up expecting to see an empty shop and instead discovered an entire group of strangers standing around his counter. Then his eyes narrowed, his nose wrinkled slightly and his lips curled into a displeased frown.

"Who the fuck are you minions?"

The entire shop became silent.

Liam stared at him.

The dwarf stared back.

For a moment, Liam genuinely wondered if he had heard correctly.

Then the corner of his mouth twitched.

Minions?

He looked at the dwarf from head to toe.

The man was barely half his height, his clothes looked as though they had been dragged through a swamp, his beard was so enormous that it practically covered half his body and his stomach was large enough to make Liam wonder how the dwarf had managed to get himself through the front door in the first place. There was a wine pouch in his hand, the smell of alcohol practically pouring from his body, and he was standing in a shop that looked like it had been abandoned by civilization centuries ago.

And this guy had just called them minions.

Liam almost laughed.

He actually had to press his lips together to stop himself.

Has this man ever looked in a mirror?

There was something almost impressive about the dwarf’s confidence. He looked like the physical embodiment of a drunken tavern brawler who had lost an argument with a barrel of alcohol, yet he was staring at seven people as though they were insignificant servants who had wandered into his territory by mistake.

Liam eventually decided there was no point wasting time.

"We’re looking for your master."

He said it so directly that even Tatiana glanced at him.

Liam didn’t wait for the dwarf’s response. Instead, he casually looked past him, trying to see deeper into the shop. Perhaps there was another room behind the counter. Perhaps the real blacksmith was sleeping somewhere in the back. There had to be someone else. The goddess had sent them here for a reason, and there was absolutely no way this drunken was the person they had been looking for.

The dwarf’s face suddenly twitched.

His foot slammed against the wooden floor.

THUD!

The entire shop seemed to shake.

Dust fell from one of the shelves.

Liam’s eyes shifted back toward him.

"Listen, you little fucker," the dwarf growled, his deep voice carrying through the entire room. "I am the master here. This is my shop!"

He jabbed a thick finger toward the floor.

"I am the blacksmith!"

"Huh?"

Liam and Irina stared at him.

For several seconds neither of them moved.

Tatiana, Gregor and Leonid, however, had completely different expressions.

There was almost a silent I told you so written across all three of their faces.

Liam slowly turned his head toward them.

"You guys actually believed him?"

Nobody answered.

That only made his disbelief worse.

He turned back toward the dwarf.

The dwarf had already taken another drink from his wine pouch and was wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Liam stared at him.

There was absolutely no way.

"Listen, old man," Liam said, rubbing the bridge of his nose, "I don’t have time for games. Just call the real blacksmith out."

The dwarf froze.

His beard twitched.

His fingers slowly tightened around the wine pouch.

Then his eyes widened in outrage.

"Fuck me!"

The sound was so loud that Irina actually flinched.

"Do you twat think I can’t make a weapon?"

Liam looked at him.

The dwarf looked back.

Liam nodded.

"Of course you can’t make shit."

Silence.

Even the dwarf seemed to need a moment to process the sheer audacity of what Liam had just said.

His beard began twitching violently.

His face turned an even deeper shade of red.

Tatiana lowered her head slightly, seemingly trying to hide the fact that she was fighting a smile.

Leonid looked away.

Gregor coughed.

Irina simply stared at Liam as though she couldn’t decide whether to laugh or tell him to stop provoking the clearly unstable dwarf.

The dwarf finally pointed at Liam.

"Stop that, boy."

His voice had become strangely serious.

"I am the best blacksmith this realm has ever produced."

Liam stared at him.

"Best blacksmith?"

"Yes!"

The dwarf puffed out his chest.

"I have forged weapons that have split mountains. I have created blades that have drunk the blood of dragons. Kings have crawled to my doorstep begging for weapons."

Liam’s expression remained completely flat.

He looked around the shop.

Rust.

Dust.

Broken tools.

Scrap metal.

An old anvil with what appeared to be moss growing around its base.

A cracked hammer.

A pile of metal that looked like it had been forgotten for several generations.

Then he looked back at the dwarf.

"Sure."

The dwarf’s eyebrow twitched.

Liam had stopped arguing, but not because he believed him.

Quite the opposite.

He had reached the conclusion that the dwarf was simply a drunk old man who had spent too much time drinking alone in a shop filled with rusty metal. There was no point continuing the conversation.

The goddess’s map had brought them here, so Liam was still certain this was the right location.

But perhaps the real blacksmith wasn’t here today.

That was the only explanation that made sense.

Liam turned around.

"Let’s go."

Tatiana’s eyes widened.

"Liam?"

"I’ll come back tomorrow when the real blacksmith opens."

He started walking toward the entrance.

Tatiana immediately reached out and grabbed his hand.

"Liam, wait."

He stopped.

Tatiana looked at him seriously.

"We aren’t even sure that this isn’t the person we’re looking for."

Liam slowly turned his head toward her.

His expression said everything.

You can’t possibly be serious.

Tatiana could see the disbelief in his eyes.

She also knew Liam well enough to understand that once he had decided something was ridiculous, changing his mind would require more than a simple argument.

"Look," she continued, "the goddess sent us here."

"I know."

"And this is the shop."

"I know."

"And he says he’s the blacksmith."

Liam glanced toward the dwarf.

The dwarf was already drinking again.

Liam looked back at Tatiana.

"Exactly. He says he’s the blacksmith."

Tatiana sighed.

Liam gently pulled his hand free.

Instead of walking toward the door, however, something caught his attention.

His eyes landed on the wall.

There was a sword hanging there.

At first glance, it looked terrible.

The blade was dark and dull, covered in scratches and marks that made it look as though it had been dragged across stone for decades. There were small patches along the surface that looked almost like rust. The hilt was plain and worn, and the entire weapon had such a miserable appearance that Liam couldn’t understand why anyone would bother displaying it.

He walked toward it.

Tatiana watched him.

"What are you doing?"

Liam pointed at the sword.

"Look at this."

He gestured toward the blade.

"Does this look like it can hurt shit?"

Irina slowly approached.

Leonid folded his arms.

Liam continued examining the sword.

"This man is a scam."

The dwarf’s eyes narrowed.

Liam reached out.

His fingers wrapped around the hilt.

Nothing happened.

The sword didn’t glow.

There wasn’t some mysterious explosion of energy.

There was no dramatic reaction.

It simply remained hanging from the wall.

Liam smirked.

"See?"

He gave the blade a small tug.

It moved.

"Even this thing is practically falling apart."

He pulled harder.

The sword came free.

And then everything changed.

THUD!

Liam’s body suddenly dropped.

His knee slammed into the wooden floor.

The impact was so violent that dust erupted around him.

For one second, nobody understood what had happened.

Tatiana’s eyes widened.

Irina froze.

Leonid’s arms slowly dropped from his chest.

Gregor stared.

Mary’s mouth opened slightly.

Even the dwarf stopped drinking.

Liam remained on one knee.

His arm was stretched downward.

The sword was still in his hand.

Except it wasn’t really in his hand anymore.

It was resting against the floor.

Its weight had dragged his entire body downward the moment he removed it from the wall.

Liam stared at it.

His expression was one of complete disbelief.

He tried to lift it.

Nothing happened.

His muscles tightened.

The veins on his forearm became visible.

Still nothing.

The sword remained against the floor as though it had been buried beneath an entire mountain.

Liam’s eyes widened further.

"What..."

He tried again.

This time he put more strength into it.

The muscles across his shoulders tightened beneath his clothes.

His arm trembled.

The floor beneath his knee creaked.

But the sword didn’t move.

Not even a little.

Liam’s breathing stopped for a moment.

This made no sense.

He was Liam Carter.

The same Liam who had smashed through creatures whose bodies were harder than stone.

The same Liam who had sent a Gargoyle flying into a mountain with one punch.

The same Liam whose physical strength had become so absurd that ordinary weapons had started feeling like toys in his hands.

Yet this pathetic-looking sword was sitting in his palm, and he couldn’t lift it.

Not because it was stuck.

Not because someone was holding it.

Simply because it was too heavy.

Liam slowly looked toward the dwarf.

The dwarf was staring at him.

But the drunken stupidity had disappeared from his face.

For the first time since Liam had entered the shop, the dwarf looked completely sober.

There was something in his eyes.

Something knowing.

But Liam didn’t notice it.

His attention was still fixed on the sword.

He tried one final time.

His fingers tightened around the hilt.

His muscles strained.

Nothing.

The sword remained completely unmoved.

Liam stared at the weapon for several seconds before finally speaking under his breath.

"Fuck me."

No one laughed.

Because everyone in the room had just realized the same thing.

That sword was not what it looked like.

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