The Gods’ Gacha Game: Return of the God-King

Chapter 85: Meeting Tuilë

As we ventured deeper into District D’s crafting area, the air grew thicker with the scent of iron, oil, and smoke. The sharp, rhythmic clang of metal striking metal echoed from every direction, forming a chaotic symphony of industry. We passed storefronts showcasing finely crafted gear—armor gleaming on display racks, weapons resting behind thick glass, and artisans shouting deals to passing divine warriors.

Compared to the scattered smithies in District E, this place was far more complete and meticulously organized.

“There’s at least a dozen blacksmiths here,” Michelle murmured, scanning the rows of workshops. “How are we supposed to know who’s the best?”

“We usually follow the noise,” Boris said with a grin, pointing ahead where the stranger and louder workshops were at.

A sudden boom echoed from the corner of the district, followed by a plume of thick black smoke rising above the rooftops. People nearby flinched, some turned to look, but none panicked—it seemed like the kind of commotion that seemed to happen often here. The three of us exchanged a glance before heading in the direction of the explosion.

We stopped just outside the workshop’s entrance. Compared to the others we’d passed, this one was by far the most eccentric. Its roof was patched together with scraps of mismatched metal, and above the doorway hung a slightly crooked sign that read: “Tuilë's Magic Forge – No Refunds.”

That last part gave me a slight pause.

Another burst of smoke puffed out from an open side window, followed by the sharp hiss of escaping steam and the prickling sensation of unstable mana in the air. And then, stepping out of the haze, came a figure I couldn’t quite categorize.

She was humanoid—mostly. Pale red skin, almost porcelain-like, with long, snowy white hair tied back into a loose braid. Her eyes were big, tinged with a curious reddish hue, and small crimson horns jutted from her forehead, just above the brow. Her feet were clearly digitigrades, like those of a beast, but the way she moved was balanced. Covering her modesty were simple hides, but what caught my eye was the faint coat of short, white fur running along her arms, shoulders, and thighs.

She waved a large, soot-smudged hand—no, a massive hand, nearly twice the size of mine. It was wrapped in a glove, but the proportions weren’t an illusion. At first glance, she looked like a furred oni, with her red skin and all… but she was clearly a different race altogether. But I wasn’t someone to judge by the other party’s appearance or race.

“Cough! Cough! What a failure!” she exclaimed, fanning away the lingering smoke with exaggerated sweeps before her eyes landed on us. “Ooh, customers!”

“Yo!” she chirped cheerfully, voice surprisingly high-pitched. “Welcome to the forge! I'm Tuilë, a Magic Engineer. Also an equipment breaker, gear fixer, and occasional inventor of things that shouldn’t explode but do anyway. Hehe.”

Why bother with the last part? Are you a comedian or something?

I thought, blinking in quiet confusion.But still…

“Magic Engineer?” I repeated, raising a brow.

That class wasn’t something you heard every day. As far as I knew, it was a particularly unique and rare class—one that required deep mastery over both magic theory and mechanical engineering. Only a few individuals with talent, intelligence, and more than a little madness could manage it. I had a hunch that she could be useful to me.

She beamed and thumped her oversized hand against her chest. “Yup! It’s a class—I’m a divine warrior. And yes, before you ask, the explosion was mostly planned.”

Boris leaned over with a half-grin and muttered, “Lad, she might be insane… but just might be the lunatic we need.”

Michelle shot him a glance. “Uh, I don’t think talking about the person in question right in front of them is polite.”

Tuilë tilted her head, clearly listening in. “Ha! No problem for me. I’ve been called worse. If you’re here to get your stuff improved, I’m exactly who you’re looking for. If it’s just upgrading regular equipment, it’s totally safe!”

She stepped aside with an exaggerated gesture, holding the door open for us. “Come on in. Watch your step, and don’t touch anything that looks weird—unless you want to lose a finger or have your hand explode.”

Heeding her warning, we entered cautiously.

The inside of the forge was… chaos. Charred floorboards marked the recent explosion not far from the entrance. Blueprints were haphazardly nailed to every wall, while shelves overflowed with half-finished contraptions—some shaped like weapons, others resembling handheld magic cannons, grenades, or even miniature golems. The air smelled like a strange mix of burnt copper, ozone, and lavender oil.

At the heart of the room stood a massive anvil, flanked by a roaring blast furnace and what appeared to be a mana-powered forge engine humming softly. This wasn’t just a blacksmith’s workshop—it was a laboratory of magical innovation.

“Well…” I said slowly, taking it all in. “You’ve got quite the setup.”

“Of course I do!” Tuilë beamed, twirling once with both arms outstretched. “This is my baby. I can handle anything from armor reforging to weapon enchantment. So—” she leaned forward with eager eyes “—what do you want to commission me for?”

It felt like she was a little too eager to land a customer, but my instincts told me she could be trusted. For a divine warrior who likely hadn’t been in Fantasia for more than a few months, creating this kind of forge and all these contraptions wouldn’t have been possible without serious dedication and real skill.

“Actually, we want you to craft equipment and weapons out of monster carcasses,” I said straightforwardly.

We—Boris, Michelle, and I—had already talked about this during dinner and again at breakfast. The monster materials we obtained from the fifth scenario, particularly the twin serpents, were top-tier. Their hides, fangs, bones, and scales could be forged into high-quality gear of at least unique grade. It would be a waste not to use them.

“Sure! Show me the carcasses,” Tuilë said without hesitation, spreading her arms wide like she was welcoming a pile of treasure.

The three of us exchanged a quick glance, then nodded. One by one, we opened our inventories and began taking out the materials.

Unfortunately, Graham’s inventory lacked any crafting materials. It seemed he’d sold everything of value in exchange for soul coins. It was a shame that, considering that he had completed the tenth scenario, any item he left behind would have been incredibly useful to us.

I could use plausibility to upgrade my current equipment. However, doing so had limits. For one, I wasn’t completely sure if an item could be upgraded more than once. More importantly, the item needed to have a significant history with me before it could be upgraded. I’d already tested this theory when trying to upgrade my current armor using Grant Plausibility, but the System had rejected it. Apparently, it didn’t meet the required narrative conditions unless I forced it by using a large amount of plausibility that I didn’t have.

There was also a huge difference between altering a weapon’s specific function and performing a complete upgrade. One was like adjusting a gear in a machine, while the other was akin to rebuilding the entire mechanism from scratch.

Tuilë’s eyes sparkled as she ran her oversized hands across the monster carcasses we’d laid out. Her pale face lit up with genuine excitement.

“Wow! These are all high-quality materials! That serpent’s hide alone could give me enough scale to plate a dozen light armors—and the fangs…” She trailed off, already mentally drafting blueprints in her head. “Yes, yes, I can craft a lot of good stuff from this!”

“Great. So, about the payment—”

“Don’t say that just yet,” Tuilë interrupted, lifting a finger and smirking. “I’m not strapped for soul coins right now. But I do have a condition.”

Michelle and Boris looked at her curiously.

“I want something else instead,” she said, crossing her arms. “You see, I want you three to take me with you for the next few scenarios. Help me climb the scenarios until we clear the tenth.”

“So basically, you want to join us?” I asked, surprised.

“Only temporarily!” she said, raising her hands in defense. “I recognized you the moment we met—you’re the one who defeated Graham and his lackeys, right? I know you’ve got the strength to break through the tenth scenario. That’s why I’m asking.”

She rested her large hands on her hips as she continued, “I may be a production-class divine warrior, which means I’m not required to challenge new scenarios weekly, but I’ve been stuck at the seventh for way too long. People treat me like some mad engineer holed up in her forge, but I’m a divine warrior too. I need to grow stronger, if only to protect my work. So, here’s my offer: you want high-grade gear, I want scenario progress. Let’s help each other.”

She grinned widely, clearly pleased with her proposal.

“I see…”

To be fair… it wasn’t a bad deal. Especially considering her skills and the kind of equipment she could craft.

“Gahaha! I like your spirit, Tuilë!” Boris laughed heartily, then turned to me with an eager grin. “I wouldn’t mind her joining our party. What do you think, lad?”

“Sure.” I nodded. “But we haven’t completed the sixth scenario yet, so it’s going to be at least a few days before we can take you with us to challenge the seventh.”

“Really?” Tuilë tilted her head, thinking. “Well, I can wait a few days, no problem. In the meantime, I’ll get started crafting the equipment and weapons you need.”

“That sounds like a plan.”

With our agreement settled, we laid out our requests in detail. Boris immediately pointed toward the membrane of the white serpent.

“I want this turned into body armor,” he said.

Tuilë blinked, then rubbed her chin as she examined the material. “That thing’s got strong mana resistance and is light as a feather. I can reinforce it with some bone lining and reinforce the elasticity, but just so you know, it’s going to be nearly transparent.”

Boris shrugged, completely unfazed. “Better than going bare-chested.”

“...But you were already bare-chested,” Michelle muttered.

Honestly, I still hadn’t figured out the logic behind Boris walking around shirtless all the time. Sure, I knew his signature skill worked best with nothing between his skin and the target, but somehow, I had the distinct feeling that flashing his muscles was the real reason the widowed women in Fantasia fell for him on the spot.

Meanwhile, I handed over my current armor and buckler. “I want both upgraded. Reinforce them with these materials and add some flexibility if possible. Oh, and can you make me a new pair of boots?”

“Gotcha!” Tuilë gave a thumbs-up, already seeming to visualize a design in her head. “Leave it to me.”

Michelle, on the other hand, requested an upgrade to her armor as well. In addition, she wanted to replace her bow and dagger with something higher quality—stronger, faster, and more reliable.

Tuilë beamed. “Excellent! I’ll give you something worth showing off.”

With that, we listed every detail of our requests. Although Tuilë’s class was Magic Engineer, she clearly had a broad skill set. From armor crafting to weapon design, she seemed capable of handling just about everything—a true jack-of-all-trades.