"Okay... if your weapon breaks, don't come looking for Oke."

The crystal ball listed the order requirements.

Oke muttered to himself, cradling the greatsword as he moved to the workbench. He picked up the punch and hammer, and began to ding and clang on the side of the greatsword.

Soon, the side of the blade was covered in a dense array of tiny holes.

A sweating Oke went ding and clang again and quickly connected the little holes together to form rows of neat inscriptions—or rather, Netherworld Language.

Considering the effect of this thing, calling it Netherworld Language was indeed appropriate.

As long as the user focused their thoughts and swung forward with all their might, the entire greatsword would explode on contact with the target.

Having completed the last step, Oke carefully applied the Demon Crystal powder he ground up onto the grooves to enhance its magic conduction. Then, like tossing out trash, he hastily handed the greatsword to that player, afraid it would explode before he did so.

"Take it! Hurry, get it as far from Oke as possible!"

"Gaga! Thanks!"

Shouldering the greatsword inscribed with explosive Netherworld Language, the odd skeleton strode off cheerfully, seemingly eager to test its might in the labyrinth.

Just as Oke breathed a sigh of relief at the departure of this plague, another skeleton leaped in from outside the door, its flickering soul fire giving Oke the creeps all over.

"Honorable Netherworld Language Master Oke! Please inscribe a pair of flying runes on my shoes!"

"Flying? Too vague! Magic is magic, Netherworld Language is Netherworld Language! Netherworld Language requires more specific instructions!"

Oke waved his head like a wave and shrieked, "You want it on shoes? Think of more normal terms, like lightweight or adhesive—"

Ignoring his screaming, the skeleton soldier carefully went through the menu on the counter and suddenly looked up, the soul fire in its skull flickering excitedly.

"Propulsion! This one's good! Add this for me!" he said, pointing his skeletal index finger at the menu item.

Oke leaned in for a look and the entire goblin froze on the spot.

"Propulsion?! Are you sure? That term is for moving parts, not for shoes—"

But the player wasn't having any of it and rudely pointed at the menu.

"I want this one! I've paid already! Do it quickly!"

As he spoke, he had already slipped off his adventurer-styled leather boots and stuffed them into Oke's hands without any discussion.

After all, this was Lord Demon King's minion standing in front of him.

Although Lord Demon King had said there was no need to be courteous with them, Oke, who was a timid and fearful goblin, didn't dare to offend them too much.

Tortured by that intense gaze, Oke bit his lip and finally, with a firm resolve, scratched his shiny, oily scalp and said.

"Alright, Oke will think of a way... but if it's a mess up, don't blame Oke. It's you who are forcing Oke to do this."

Muttering to himself, he turned back to the workbench, picked up his tools, and went ding and clang on a piece of iron, forming it into an arch while inscribing it with Netherworld Language. He then affixed it to the braces of both boots.

This time the Netherworld Language inscription was much simpler than before.

Since Oke had no idea what effect adding a propulsion term to the sole of the shoe would have, he did not write down any condition for activation. If the wearer focused their thoughts on the braces, it would trigger.

Looking at the boots with the inscribed Netherworld Language, the player excitedly treasured them as if they were priceless, eagerly slipping his feet into them.

And as expected, an accident occurred.

The moment the guy stepped forward with his right leg, the two boots came to life, grabbing his ankle and yanking him forward.

The skeleton soldier "plop" fell to the ground, its pelvis nearly breaking apart.

And it didn't stop there; the boots didn't care about their owner's butt sparking as it scraped the ground, dragging his legs towards the door!

"Damn it! Stop!! Stop right now! Aaah!!!"

The screams echoed through the cave.

Not until the unlucky soul had managed to take both boots off did the enchanted footwear, which had lost its source of spiritual power, cease its rampage.

Looking at the customer who had fled with his butt leading the way, Oke shamefully covered his eyes, pretending he had seen nothing.

As a craftsman, he still had a little pride in his work... even if it wasn't much.

Even under intense customer demand, the fact remained: the trashy piece of equipment was still made by his own hands.

This was just too embarrassing for his master!

However—

Although that's what Oke thought, the "players" queuing up at the door of the Magic Workshop seemed to have a different opinion.

To them, what was trash in his eyes was outrageously strong!

"Awesome! Can you really do something like this?"

"Perpetual motion machine???"

"Not exactly a perpetual motion machine, that kind of continuous triggering device seems like it would consume magic power, right?"

"But that's still awesome!!!"

"If you turned the two boots into one and added a condition like 'knee bend to jump start,' wouldn't you be able to slide on the spot?"

"Wait, in that case, if I fit a pair of propellers on my head and write a propulsion term on each blade... can't I spiral up to the heavens?!"

"Just put a rotation term on the main shaft! Otherwise, with different speeds, it's hard to say whether you could fly at all."

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