Reincarnated as an SSS-Ranked Blacksmith Who Refuses to Forge Weapons-Chapter 220. We All Loved You

The spell took away all of her strength, and she fell.

The ice broke right away. Valthor broke free and charged again.

Lylia caught Seraphine before she hit the ground and pulled her to safety. The mage was still alive, but barely, and she was covered in frost from head to toe.

Mana exhaustion caused it, not death, and that’s close enough in real life.

But she had said it. She finally said what she had been holding back for months.

The defensive formation was falling apart because Seraphine was down. Now, no one was stopping Kael’thas from walking toward Greg.

Her divine forge-fire constructs cleared the way.

Elwen was in the middle of them.

She didn’t have any weapons left. There are no more spells left. Not much defensive magic. It was just her and a choice that had been made two hundred years ago.

She reached into her family’s history, which was a bloodline connection to every weapon her ancestors had made.

Sword of Seven Sorrows.

Bow of Silent Death.

Blade of Mourning Kings

They were imprisoned in the Moonwood Grove vault for generations due to guilt and regret.

But blood called to blood.

She summoned them all simultaneously.

Golden threads of ancestral magic held up every legendary weapon her family had ever made, and they floated around her in the air. The price was accepting her family’s legacy and becoming what she had promised herself she would never be.

Kael’thas really did stop, even though she was impressed with herself. "You’re an artisan from the Moonwood family..."

"I didn’t see the connection until now, and I have to say... those are amazing pieces."

"I know what these weapons did." Elwen’s voice shook, but it stayed strong. "I know the wars they started and the blood that has been on my family’s name for two hundred years."

The weapons circled her like a deadly constellation, waiting for orders.

"But I know something else too." She looked right at Greg, still holding the sphere and safe for now. "I went to Greg because I wanted to learn how to make things that didn’t kill..."

"I stayed because watching him work was like watching someone rewrite what creation meant!"

"Every sketch I made of him was me trying to capture what it looked like when someone chose peace not from weakness but from strength."

There were no more tears in her eyes. "I love you, Master Greg..."

"I loved you the day you asked what I wanted to make instead of what I should."

"And I love you enough to use every weapon I’ve ever hated if it means you get to finish what you’re making."

The legendary weapons lit up with a power that made the air scream.

"These blades will never see war again..."

"After this, I’ll melt them all down into things for the house. But right now, for you." She let them go with a gesture. "I’ll make an exception."

The legendary weapons of Elwen clashed with the divine constructs of Kael’thas in a show that lit up the whole arena like a second sun, but the weapons were limited, made by elves, even though they were legendary.

Kael’thas was a god with limitless power. Elwen was not winning; she was buying time. Every broken weapon represented a piece of her family’s history that would never be the same.

She didn’t think twice.

The more than eighty non-combatant reincarnators had been watching the Brotherhood give up everything to keep them safe.

Seeing Marina injure herself.

Witnessing Seraphine completely exhaust her energy.

Observing Elwen destroy her family’s entire legacy.

Thomas Chen was the first to step forward. His chef’s uniform was somehow still clean, even though things were going wrong.

"I can’t fight, but I can feed."

His Cooking System turned on at full power. Every meal he’d ever made turned into raw buff energy instead of food.

Every ally within a hundred feet got a fifty percent boost to all of their stats. Wounds made the bleeding go slower. There was a clear drop in exhaustion.

Not only did Amara Songweaver start singing, but she also performed the Song of Defiant Hearts. The bard technique made conviction even stronger.

Everyone who chose the other path felt their choice get stronger, their systems get more stable, and their resolve become unshakeable.

Priya, the healer, walked through the battlefield, scared but determined. Every person she touched got just enough strength back to keep standing, fighting, and believing.

The more than eighty people who reincarnated were not warriors. They were builders, healers, merchants, farmers, artisans, and chefs.

But they were people who had chosen to be free. And it turned out that choice was a kind of power that no system could measure.

Helena Ravencroft called all the souls she had gathered from the arena’s dead. But instead of making them fight, she asked them a question.

"Do you want to be free or get revenge on the gods who made you play this game?"

All of the dead chose revenge. Hundreds of undead reincarnators rushed toward the gods, not to win but to slow them down.

To give Greg more time.

They were striving to imbue their deaths with a deeper significance than mere symbols.

Greg was in the middle of all the chaos. Around him, the Brotherhood was fiercely engaged in battle, and the reincarnators were exerting their utmost effort even though it was unnecessary.

The sphere buzzed in his hands, warm and alive and ready.

He understood that "everything" meant the cost. He was willing to pay it.

But before he could turn on the Sphere, Mira appeared right in front of him.

Her spirit form was fully present, more solid than it had ever been. Her hair was silver, and her eyes were gold.

Her maid outfit was crafted from pure magical energy. It was a reflection of his love for Lylia, his desire to help, and his belief that creation held greater significance than destruction.

She was in tears.

"Master-forger-darling," Mira said in a soft voice.

"Get back, Mira!" Greg’s voice was sharp with fear. "You can’t be here when I turn this on; it’s dangerous!"

"I know how much the Sphere costs." Even though she was crying, her voice was calm. "I read the notice...

"Everything. Your life. Your system. Your prosthetic arm. Your ability to forge. Everything that defines you as Greg Greyson will be consumed with it."

She reached out and touched the Sphere. Her fingers passed through it, unable to grasp something so insubstantial.

But that was okay because she wasn’t trying to take it from him. She was trying to become it.

"I was made with your conviction." Mira’s body began to glow. "Because of your kindness."

"Every time you created something to help someone without expecting anything in return, it contributed to my existence." I’m not alive like you are..."

"I’m a manifestation. A spirit. A concept that your belief that creation could be kind gave form to."

Greg’s heart sank as he realized what she was going to do. "No...! Don’t say that, Mira! Don’t you dare!"

But she had already made up her mind. She put both hands on the sphere, and her body started to break down.

Not dying, but coming together. She poured herself into the artifact, taking the cost that was meant for Greg and carrying it instead.

"Master-forger-darling, you taught me what it means to exist." Her legs were gone now, turned into golden light that flowed into the Sphere. "You made me real just by believing I mattered."

"Now let me do the same for you."

"Let me make you matter the way you always made others matter."

Lylia screamed from the other side of the arena, where she was guarding Seraphine’s unconscious body. "Please don’t do this, MIRAAAA!!!"

Mira was crying, but she was also smiling. "Please look after Mistress Lylia, Mistress Marina, the grumpy ice mage, the shy elf, and everyone else."

"Please promise me that you’ll keep making connections."

"I... grghh... promise." Greg’s hands shook as he held the Sphere. "I swear I’ll keep making connections."

"I’m so happy to hear that..." Next, her body fell apart. "Also, Master-forger-darling?"

"Just so you know, I loved you too. We all did, in our own ways..."

"That’s what made the Brotherhood work. We loved you enough to let you be who you are."

Only her face was left, glowing in the golden light. Then she was gone, completely one with the Sphere.

The artifact’s light shifted and pulsed, reflecting not only Greg’s faith but also Mira’s dedication, her happiness, her faithfulness, and her affection.

Greg didn’t pay the price; the spirit did, for Greg believed that creation could be kind.

The Sphere turned on by itself.

Golden light burst out in all directions, filling the whole arena and going beyond. At the same time, the system interface for every reincarnator changed.

[DIVINE AUTHORITY: SEVERED]

[FREEDOM: GRANTED]

[COST: PAID BY SACRIFICE]

The gods screamed. Not in pain, but in anger and loss.

Their link to this world was being cut off at the root by a belief that was stronger than God’s will.

Valthor’s voice broke as he said, "WHAT HAVE YOU... DONEEEEE?!"

Kael’thas looked like he was really shaken. "THIS SHOULDN’T WORK...! THIS WASN’T SUPPOSED TO BE POSSIBLEEEE...!!!"

For the first time, Moira looked scared. "The threads...! They’re all on fire...! Everything I made is turning to ash!!!"

The Sphere’s light reached the edges of the arena and then went even further, covering the whole world. Everyone who reincarnated on the continent felt it.

Two hundred and forty-seven systems were simultaneously cut off from divine control.

Everyone is free.

The gods were being pulled back to their own world. They fought with all their might, but they couldn’t resist the Sphere’s strong belief.

Valthor raised his sword one last time. "IF I CAN’T HAVE THIS WORLD...! I’LL FUCKING DESTROY IT AALLLLLLL!!!"

He swung at the First Forge, a blow that would kill it and break the most ancient thing in the world.

Dorin tried to stop him, but he was too slow and too tired from the long fight.

The sword fell toward the flames that had been burning since before gods learned how to make things.

And the world stopped breathing.