Reincarnated as an SSS-Ranked Blacksmith Who Refuses to Forge Weapons-Chapter 222. Broken But Living

The arena was slowly dying.

The First Forge was still burning, but the flames were much dimmer.

They had been there since before the gods learned how to make things, and now they flickered like candles in the wind. The pocket dimension was gradually disintegrating.

It would probably be an hour before it completely sealed off and trapped everyone inside for good.

Greg fell down without any warning or drama. His legs just gave out, and he fell hard on the arena floor, holding Mira’s headband in both hands.

"Hah... hah... fuck... hah..."

He had been relying solely on faith for what seemed like days. He felt the adrenaline fade away, and his body remembered that it had been pushed past every possible breaking point now that the gods were gone.

The Brotherhood gathered around him, some of them injured and others worn out. Even though she had broken ribs, Marina limped over and sat next to him.

Lylia knelt on the other side of him, and tears kept running down her face.

Amara and Thomas brought Seraphine over and laid her down nearby. The mage’s eyes were open, but she couldn’t move because frost was still covering her skin in crystal patterns.

Elwen sat behind Greg and put her forehead on his back. She didn’t say anything; she just kept in touch.

Felix stood there with house cats coming and going at random around him, crying without shame.

Donetta held Lylia close and offered quiet comfort that didn’t need words.

Dorin stood back, the pipe finally lit again, and smoke rose in the dim light of the First Forge, which was about to go out.

For a long time, no one said anything. 𝒇𝒓𝙚𝒆𝔀𝓮𝓫𝒏𝓸𝙫𝓮𝓵.𝓬𝙤𝙢

But be for real...

What could anyone say after beating gods but losing family in the process?

Marina finally spoke up. "We... we won."

"Oh yeah... did we?" Greg’s voice sounded empty.

"Yeah," Marina said, her voice breaking. "But... we won with a cost..."

"The cost w-was Bork and Mira’s lives... it’s all thanks to their sacrifice that we won..."

"Everyone else is free... now the two hundred and forty-seven reincarnators can choose their own paths without divine interference."

"Mira shouldn’t have had to do that..." Greg said, "It should be me..."

Even though Lylia was crying, she was frantic. "She chose that path...!"

"That’s what you taught us all—that our choices are more important than our circumstances..."

"She chose you, us, and this future over divine authority."

"I hate it...!" Now she was crying even more. "I hate that she’s gone...!"

"But I won’t say it was wrong because that would be disrespectful for them!!!"

Dorin slowly walked over and sat down with them, even though his old bones didn’t like it. "My grandson died for saving us all, and I wasn’t ready for it..."

"In fact, I’ll never be ready, but he died doing what he believed in, protecting what was important to him."

He looked at each one of them in turn. "You can’t take that away from them just because you’re grieving."

"Bork picked the headphones, and Mira picked the Sphere... you can’t tell them they were wrong just because you’re the one who has to deal with it."

His voice got softer. "In Dwars’f culture... Grief is how we honor what we’ve lost..."

"But guilt is how we dishonor their choices... and now, it’s best that we don’t have to feel guilty about it."

And there was silence; they let it pass with just a small cry.

...

The evacuation started as the pocket dimension started to fall apart faster. Dorin used the last of his godly knowledge to make a way back to the real world.

Not to Ferndale, but to a certain place. The location was just outside Ferndale, far from the fading arena and the First Forge.

The reincarnators who weren’t fighting went first. Everyone stopped to say thank you to Greg as they passed.

Thomas held Greg’s shoulder tightly. "I’m opening a new restaurant, and you can come by any time for free food for life!"

"Hahaha... I don’t think I need that much credit for it; I’ll pay up." Greg smiled a little.

Amara stopped at the edge of the portal. "I’ll sing about what really happened here, and everyone needs to know what you gave up for their freedom."

"Make the song about everyone who’s fighting for the greater good of peace."

Priya’s voice was soft but sure. "Thank you for showing us that we didn’t have to kill to stay alive... I’ll try to live up to that lesson."

"You better..."

One by one, they left the arena until only the Brotherhood was left.

Felix and Donetta went first because his Infinite Luck System was too unstable to stay longer. Greg carried Seraphine next, even though he was worn out.

She was breathing steadily but was now unconscious. Elwen walked next to them without saying a word.

Marina and Lylia assisted each other, moving at a slow but steady pace.

Dorin was the last to go, and he made sure that everyone else was through before closing the portal behind them.

Greg stopped at the edge of the portal and looked back one last time. The First Forge flickered weakly, and the flames were almost gone.

The most ancient thing in the world, the source of everything he’d built his second life on, was dying without God’s help.

"Thanks," Greg said softly. "For everything..."

The forge flared up once, a mix of acknowledgment and goodbye, and then it went back to its dying flicker.

Greg takes a deep breath and walks through the door.

...

They emerged in a place that was entirely unexpected. Not Ferndale, where the Brotherhood resided.

And it was not Meridian, where they had battled the Calamity.

But somewhere completely different, a location none of them recognized.

The portal led to a clifftop with a view of the ocean. The first sunrise painted the sky in gold and pink in a world where gods no longer control the fate of mortals from above.

The Brotherhood stumbled out onto grass, onto solid ground, and into a world that wasn’t a divine game board or a pocket dimension. They fell down in different states of tiredness.

Greg carefully put Seraphine down on the soft grass. She was still breathing and she was still alive, no matter what.

Marina and Lylia sat together, holding hands, and watched the sun rise in silence.

Elwen found a tree and sat down against it. She finally cried like she needed to now that she didn’t have to be strong.

Felix was unconscious, and Donetta was patiently observing him.

Dorin lit his pipe and watched the waves crash against rocks far below.

They were free.

They were broken.

They were living.

But then someone behind them coughed.

The whole Brotherhood turned as one, weapons raised even though they were worn out. Threats didn’t stop just because you’d beaten gods.

A shadow figure in traveling robes stood there, as if they had been waiting for them to arrive. A staff was embedded in the ground, defying the passage of time.

This person was older than Dorin, older than Elwen, and older than any race should be able to be.

But the face was kind, with smile lines that had been there for thousands of years.

The figure smiled with warmth. "Greg Greyson..."

"The Warhammer Saint who chose peace over the fate that the three gods tried to give him."

"I’ve been waiting for you to stop being a god."

Greg had a difficult time getting up because his prosthetic arm didn’t work well. "Who... are you?"

The figure’s smile got bigger, and real amusement sparkled in their old eyes. "I’m the one who made the First Forge before the gods found it and took it for themselves."

"I’m the one who hid the First Hammer so that worthy hands would eventually find it."

"I’m the reason you were brought to this world, even though the Three Gods never knew I was involved in your reincarnation."

The staff hit the ground once. The world shook like water when a stone fell into it, and reality reacted to the figure’s presence in ways that made divine authority look like magic.

"Now that those three annoying assholes are out of the way, we can finally talk about what’s next."

Dorin’s pipe fell out of his mouth. "You’re..."

The figure shook its head. "The First Forgemaster, and the original too."

"The one who taught the gods everything they know about creation and power."

"I also taught them everything about being arrogant and going too far, but that wasn’t on purpose."

Those ancient eyes were so focused on Greg that it was hard for him to stand up. "And you, young man, have stolen my favorite student’s hammer, damaged their meticulously constructed game, and exiled three gods through a method that has been ineffective for three thousand years."

"So, we need to talk about some things."

The First Forgemaster’s face got serious. "First, tell us how you plan to stay alive when the God of Death, the Goddess of Madness, the God of Plague, and the Twins of Entropy decide you’re too dangerous to live."

"Exiling three pantheon members sends a message to every divine being that mortals can win if they try hard enough."

The ocean roared far below, not caring about what the gods were up to. The sun rose slowly and beautifully, not caring.

The Brotherhood, shattered and exhausted, came to the startling realization that they had vanquished their pantheon. But the war had grown to be much bigger than any of them had thought it would be.

Four more gods.

Greg’s victory would be perceived by four additional groups of gods as a challenge to their own dominance.

Greg looked at the First Forgemaster, his broken family around him, and the sunrise that lit up a world where the Three Gods had no power.

And even though he had lost things, was exhausted, and learned about new threats, he felt something he didn’t expect.

Hope.

They had defeated three gods. They could deal with whatever came next.

As a family.