Reincarnated as an SSS-Ranked Blacksmith Who Refuses to Forge Weapons-Chapter 97. Back to Work

Chapter 97: 97. Back to Work
She looked around the workshop and saw the organized mess of Greg’s desk, the corner where Lylia cooked, Seraphine’s research area, and Elwen’s practice space. "This already feels more like home."
"Where do you want to set up?" Greg asked.
Marina raised an eyebrow and looked at his bed in the corner. "We can’t both fit on that thing. We need a real bed."
Greg said, "I’ll make one tomorrow. Or we could get one from the village furniture maker."
Marina said firmly, "You will make one."
"I want to sleep in a bed that my boyfriend made with his famous skills. Even if it turns out to be an SSS-ranked bed that gives you perfect sleep and prophetic dreams or something silly."
Greg said, "That’s not how it works," but he was already thinking about how to build a bed frame.
Marina said, "That’s always how it works with you."
She walked over to him and put her arms around his waist, resting her head on his chest. Greg held her close, smelling her hair and feeling her heartbeat against his.
Marina said in a soft voice, "I’m really happy. More happy than I’ve been in a long time, maybe the happiest I’ve ever been."
Greg said, "Me too."
In the quiet of the workshop, they stood there for a long time, just holding each other. Outside, the last light of day faded into twilight, and someone was singing a happy drinking song in the distance.
Life in Ferndale went on as usual, with no problems. It was exactly what Greg had been looking for.
...
Greg woke up the next morning to find that Marina had somehow gotten his pillow during the night and was using it as a body pillow while she lay across three-quarters of his cot. He didn’t know how she had taken up so much room on such a small bed, but he figured it was a skill.
"Marina," he said, trying to get back at least part of the cot. "You’re taking up the whole bed."
"No, I’m not..." Marina said in a low voice without opening her eyes. "You’re just big."
"I’m not very big. You take up too much space in bed."
"Bed hog, mmm... That’s me."
Greg gave up because she still wasn’t moving. He carefully got out of the cot without waking her up.
He had learned over the past week that Marina was definitely not a morning person, even though she liked to watch him sleep. It was asking for trouble to wake her up before she was ready.
He walked to the kitchen, where Lylia was already making breakfast. As he got closer, she gave him a knowing look. "Bad night?"
Greg said, "She took my pillow."
"That’s what she does," Lylia said. "I remember the time we went on a trip together and she somehow ended up with all of the blankets. It’s called a present."
"It’s stealing."
Lylia said, "Stealing is such a harsh word," as she flipped an egg with ease. "I like to think of it as aggressive resource redistribution."
"You’ve been with Marina too long."
"Probably," Lylia said.
Greg helped her finish making breakfast, and slowly the rest of the family started to wake up and come into the kitchen. Bork came in looking half asleep, Felix was surprisingly happy for someone who usually stayed up until dawn, and Seraphine came in with her hair all messed up and a book already in hand.
Marina was the last to come out. She wore one of Greg’s shirts that went down to her knees, and it looked like she didn’t care that she had taken up too much space in bed. She ran straight to Greg, wrapped her arms around him from behind, and buried her face in his shoulder.
"Morning," she mumbled.
"Good morning, pillow thief."
"I don’t know what you’re talking about."
...
Greg finally got to his forge after breakfast. He planned to start working on some of the commissions that had been piling up. His absence had left people impatient, and he needed to reintegrate into the work environment.
He was checking his tools to make sure everything was in order when someone knocked on the door to the workshop. Bork went to answer it and came back a moment later with three villagers, all of whom looked nervous and excited.
"Boss," Bork said. "You have guests. They have things they want."
Greg sighed inside but put on a friendly smile. "Of course."
"How can I help you?"
The first villager, a farmer named Thomas that Greg had worked with before, stepped forward with a nervous look on his face. "Mr. Greyson, I’m sorry to bother you after everything you’ve been through, but I have a problem with my fence."
"No matter what I do, the posts continue to rot, and the animals keep getting out. I wondered if you could make something that would help?"
Next, a woman who ran the village inn spoke up. She was the second villager. "I also need new pots and pans for my kitchen."
"I heard about what you made for Lylia’s restaurant, and the ones I have are falling apart. I’d be forever grateful if you could make something like this."
The third villager, a young man who didn’t look old enough to be out of the academy, was so excited he could hardly contain himself. "I’m starting a business as a traveling merchant, but I need a wagon that can handle rough roads and keep my goods safe from thieves and bad weather."
"I came to you first because everyone says you’re the best."
Greg looked at the three of them, saw their hopeful faces and real needs, and felt something settle in his chest. He was supposed to make tools that helped people live better lives, not weapons of war.
"Okay," he said, rolling up his sleeves. "Let’s talk about what you want."
Marina came up to him and smiled at him with that mischievous look that he had come to know so well. "Look at you, getting back to work right away. My boyfriend who works hard."
Greg said, "Someone has to keep the village going."
"Someone has to stop you from working yourself to death," Marina said in response. "But I guess I can share you with the village. For now."
She stood on her toes and kissed his cheek, which made the three villagers smile and look at each other knowingly. "I’ll be watching from over there," she said, pointing to a corner where it looked like she had set up a chair.
"Don’t do anything too risky without me watching."
Greg said, "I’m making pots and fence posts. How awful could it be?"
"With you? Anything is possible.
She was right. Greg felt the familiar thrill of a new project starting to build as he talked to the villagers about the details of each commission.
He couldn’t wait to get to work and make something useful, beautiful, and completely silly that would somehow end up being SSS-ranked, even though he tried his best to make normal things. But that was later.
For now, he had people to help him, a girlfriend who clearly cared about him, and a workshop full of family who were there for him. Things were favorable in life.
Life was calm. And Greg thought that for the first time since he had come back to this world, he might be able to keep it that way.