Reincarnated as an SSS-Ranked Blacksmith Who Refuses to Forge Weapons-Chapter 77. The Wrath of Peace

Chapter 77: 77. The Wrath of Peace
The entrance to the Sunken Citadel swallowed them whole, and darkness closed in on them from all sides until Greg turned on his Lantern of Undying Radiance. The soft golden light pushed the shadows back, showing stone walls that had been there for hundreds of years and were covered in dirt and the faint traces of old magic.
"Stay close," Greg said in a voice that was stronger than usual. "Bork, you’re right on with the compass. Seraphine, be careful of magical traps."
"Felix, stay in the back. And Mira, scout ahead, but don’t fight anything by yourself."
"Yes, Master-forger-darling!" Mira chirped, but even her usual cheer was dampened by the heavy mood.
The first level was a maze of hallways and rooms meant to confuse and disorient. Greg’s compass, on the other hand, never changed. It always pointed to the stairs that went deeper. They saw their first monsters within minutes, which were a group of corrupted goblins that screamed and charged at them with rusty weapons.
"Seems like the monsters are respawning because of something..." Marina and the others should have cleared the room, but Seraphine noticed that it was once again filled with monsters.
"Or it can be that bastard’s doing with his magic." Greg answered.
"Let me handle this!" Felix yelled and pulled out what looked like a simple gardening rake from his bag. But when he swung it, the tool moved with an unnatural level of accuracy, and the tines glowed with Greg’s magic. The rake swept through the goblins like a scythe through wheat, not cutting them but stunning them with a lot of force that sent them flying.
"Nice!" Bork yelled out, using his tool, a modified sledgehammer that was made to break rocks. When it hit the stone floor, shockwaves spread out, knocking more goblins over. "These farming tools work better when you know how to use them!"
Seraphine stepped back, her hands making complicated patterns as frost started to form in the air. She had mastered a lot about ice magic over the months of study, and now she showed why. A wave of crystal spears shot up from the ground, not hurting the goblins but making a wall that kept them in place.
"Contained, not killed," Seraphine said in a calm voice. "We can move past them."
Greg nodded in agreement and led the way. Greg’s tool belt was brimming with tools not intended for combat, yet they performed remarkably well when required. They finished the first level in less than twenty minutes, moving like people who knew that every second counted.
Level two was harder. The undead warriors who had caused problems for the first expedition rose from alcoves in the walls, their empty eyes following the intruders.
But Greg was prepared. He took out a ladle, which is a common kitchen tool for Lylia, and used it to channel mana.
"Purification through utility," he said to himself, thinking of the Holy Hoe that had gotten rid of corruption.
The ladle glowed with the same energy, and when he threw the condensed magic at the undead, they just fell over. The dark energy that had brought them to life faded away like smoke.
Felix breathed, "That’s crazy. You just used a soup ladle to get rid of the undead."
"It’s about intention," Greg said as he walked away. "These tools were made to help people stay alive."
"Death magic is the opposite of that, and they would rather not be with each other."
They came across a huge undead knight standing in front of a door. Its armor was covered in rusty spikes, and its sword gave off an evil aura. Bork stepped forward with a cast iron skillet, which was one of the things Greg had borrowed from Lylia’s kitchen.
Bork yelled, "Hey, big guy!"
"Have you ever been hit with a pot or pan?"
The knight charged, sword in hand. The sound of metal hitting metal echoed through the room as Bork blocked the blow with the skillet.
Then he swung back, and the magic pots and pans hit the knight’s helmet so hard that it flew off. The headless undead stumbled around, not knowing what to do, until Seraphine’s ice magic froze it solid.
Felix said, "Cookware one, ancient warrior zero."
Things got intriguing on level three. Cursed constructs that changed to fit their tactics came out of the walls. Their stone bodies moved and changed to fight back against each attack. Greg watched them study the group’s movements for exactly three seconds before he took out his secret weapon.
A grater for cheese.
Felix asked, "Are you serious?"
"Totally." Greg used the simple kitchen tool to channel mana, which turned on its magic.
The grater started to vibrate at a frequency that made the stone bodies of the constructs sound. Cracks appeared and spread quickly as the magical frequency weakened their structure.
Seraphine took advantage of the weakness by using her ice magic to fill in the cracks and make them bigger. The constructs broke apart like glass because they couldn’t handle an attack that came from their resonance.
Felix said, "I have so many questions."
Greg said, "Ask later. We have to keep going."
But level three wasn’t done with them yet. Something big and strange came out of a side chamber.
It looked as if it had been put together from nightmares and bad choices. The creature had an excessive number of eyes, numerous limbs ending in claws, and a mouth that seemed impossible.
Mira said, "That’s gross," as she floated behind Greg.
"Agreed," Seraphine said, getting her magic ready. "Everyone, give me thirty seconds."
While Seraphine worked, Greg and the others made a line of defense. The temperature in the room dropped quickly, and her hands moved in complicated ways. They could see their breath escaping in puffs as frost formed on the walls.
"Absolute Zero Field: Ice Magic," Seraphine said, her voice heavy with the weight of months of study and practice. The air seemed to freeze around the anomaly, trapping it in a prison of ice so cold that its molecules couldn’t move.
The creature tried to move and change, but it was too late. Nothing could escape Seraphine’s complete control over her element. The aberration froze in the middle of its movement, like a horrible statue of something that shouldn’t have existed.
"Holy fucking shit," Bork said with a smile. "When did you get so good?"
"Practice," Seraphine said simply, but there was a hint of satisfaction in her voice. "Should we go on?"
They ran into real resistance for the first time on level four. The corrupted warriors who had caused problems for the first expedition were waiting, and they had learned from their past mistakes. They fought together, trying to break up the group and take advantage of each person’s weaknesses.
But Greg’s team wasn’t the first group to go on the trip. They had trained, fought, and trusted each other completely.
Felix used his rake like a staff, and the magic tool made barriers and changed the direction of attacks. Bork’s sledgehammer shook the ground and messed up the enemy’s formations. Mira ran around the battlefield, utilizing her spirit nature to pass through solid objects and appear where enemies least expected her, thereby confusing them with her unexpected presence.
And Seraphine was a force of nature. Her ice magic had grown from just attacks into something that looked like art. She made platforms for her allies to get to higher ground, walls to funnel enemies into kill zones, and ice spears that pinned without killing, giving her complete control over the battlefield.
Greg himself moved through the chaos with farming tools that shouldn’t be weapons but somehow were. A pitchfork that pushed enemies back with blasts of compressed air. A sickle that made winds that cut things without having to touch them.
Additionally, a simple wooden rake created force fields when dragged across the ground. They were a symphony of controlled violence, using tools of peace in ways that showed how close creation and destruction are to each other.
The corrupted warriors fell back, unsure of what to do and feeling down. They thought the next battle would be as easy as the first one. Instead, people were using farming tools and kitchen supplies to take them apart piece by piece.
Greg said, "Level four clear," breathing hard but steady. "Next level five."
"That’s where they are being kept."