Worli was a wolf girl who grew up in the Furry Tribe. When she was very young, her father died in a battle with the Slave Capture Team, leaving only her mother to care for her.
Then, when she was thirty... in this world, age didn’t matter much, so it was fine to judge the psychological age by context.
Judging by Worli’s appearance of twenty-seven or twenty-eight and her age of sixty, thirty probably equated to around fourteen or fifteen years old...
When Worli was thirty, her mother disappeared. Everyone guessed it was again due to the Empire’s Slave Capture Team... entities infamous among non-human races.
From then on, Worli lived alone, and she soon discovered her talent for designing and crafting magic armor. She resolved to earn enough money to travel to the Empire to search for her mother.
Then, on her fiftieth birthday, her mother came back, covered in wounds.
The delighted Worli was told, "I don’t have much time left. My final wish is to see you again, to confirm you’re well, and to see the soil of our homeland." A year later, her mother also passed away.
During that year, what Worli’s mother said most often were stories of Yila saving her, her gratitude towards Yila, and apologies for leaving without a word, right up until her last breath.
"At that time, I wanted to seek an answer."
Worli said this while holding the sword mold in one hand with iron tongs and hammering the red-hot mold with the other hand. She poured mana into the furnace with her left foot to heat it and pumped the bellows with her right foot.
*Clang~ Clang~ Clang~*
While rhythmically hammering the reheated mold, Worli continued, "I wanted to know what kind of person ’Yila’ was, to the extent that my mother never mentioned my father even once that year."
Yila didn’t know what to say. It seemed he had unintentionally made a deep impression on a wolf girl who had lost her husband... perhaps it was more than just gratitude.
"But my encounter with your mother was just a brief one. Other than saving her, I did nothing else."
Yila said this as he turned to look at Satan Ye and the vampire, who were waiting outside the forge because it was too hot. He marveled at the Crimson Demon Dragon being afraid of heat while saying, "However, maybe just the ’rescue’ was already enough."
Worli curled her lips nonchalantly at Yila’s words. She threw the fully hammered sword mold into a prepared tub of water, instantly filling the forge with thick white mist.
The dense mist blocked everyone’s vision.
Meanwhile, Worli’s voice came through. She waited for a moment but got no response from Yila, so she spoke up, "Fight me... I’m coming!"
Yila listened quietly. Although he didn’t know the reason, he could distinctly feel that Worli initiated an attack as soon as she declared it.
However, it seemed rather amateurish...
Yila could see that Worli was indeed skilled at forging. Although her spell inscription was yet to be seen, it was probably not bad either. But her combat skills seemed a bit lacking.
She was maybe even a notch weaker than Satan Ye.
Yila judged this and didn’t even unfold his ’wings.’ With a simple backward lean, he easily dodged the claws that swiped past his face. Then, with two simple moves, a pull and a trip, he hooked her leg and brought her down.
Accompanied by the sound of her being slammed to the ground, Yila easily and effortlessly pinned Worli to the ground with the strength of an ’ordinary human.’ Even as the smoke dispersed, Worli’s struggles were futile.
Under the confused gaze of the vampire and Satan Ye, Worli calmed down and said simply, "Sorry, I admit defeat."
Hearing Worli concede, Yila easily removed his knee from her waist and let go of her neck. Worli indeed stopped her attacks and, as if nothing had happened, picked up the sword mold with tongs.
The sword mold didn’t look good, with its black and gray surface and uneven edges.
"Next, it needs grinding, sharpening, slotting, quenching, and fitting the hilt and crossguard, followed by inscribing the Magic Armor Spell."
Worli said this, handing the now-cooler sword mold to Yila. She continued, "But at this moment, its forging strength is sufficient... although it’s still fragile given your strength."
Yila examined the sword and nodded slightly. Though he couldn’t really tell much, he said, "So, the rest of the work goes to the Demon King Territory?"
This statement signaled that Yila’s assessment was complete.
"I can leave at any time. I don’t need a salary... just provide me with a place to stay and some food, and I’ll work for you until I die, like your slave."
Worli said this, tossing the unfinished sword mold into a sack... the contents of which seemed to be what she needed to bring to the Demon King Territory. She looked at Yila and added, "But I hope you’ll agree to one condition."
Yila was silent, waiting for Worli’s follow-up. To be honest, he disliked such ’conditions,’ but on second thought, since the condition was selling herself into slavery, it was acceptable.
Worli hesitated. She wasn’t sure if Yila would accept her condition because of her. Without much hope, she said, "to destroy the Caligula Slave Auction House."
Seeing Yila agree instantly, Worli was visibly stunned. Her tail fluffed up in surprise, and she instinctively let out a questioning sound; "Huh?"
But actually, there was no need for doubt.
Yila repeated, extending his hand to shake with the bewildered Worli. He smiled and said, "I had wanted to do that a long time ago. It was just inconvenient when I was in the Empire. So you want to destroy the Caligula Auction House, right?"
Worli: "Ah, just destroying the Slave Auction House is enough."
Yila: "Got it, destroy the Caligula Auction House, right?"
"Well, actually just..."
Worli wanted to say something, but seeing Yila’s enthusiasm and the curious gaze of Satan Ye, who rarely saw Yila , she realized something and gave a wry smile.
"Ha, anyway, thank you, Yila Elkaras."