Greg woke up to the sound of hammering on his workshop door. For a brief, hopeful moment, he thought maybe he'd dreamed the whole frying pan incident. Then he heard multiple voices outside arguing about who would get to commission items first, and reality came crashing back.
"Master Greg! I need new horseshoes that won't wear out!"
"I was here first! Make me a butter churner!"
"Forget butter, I need a proper plow!"
Greg groaned and buried his face in his pillow. The sun hadn't even fully risen yet, and already there was a line.
This had been happening for three days straight now, ever since word spread about Marina's wyvern-killing cookware. Apparently, the entire region had decided that Greg was their personal miracle worker.
He dragged himself out of bed and opened the door a crack. Sure enough, at least a dozen people stood outside, ranging from local farmers to what looked like traveling merchants. At the front of the line was Thomas, one of Ferndale's farmers, holding what remained of a leather vest.
"Morning, Master Greg!" Thomas said cheerfully, completely oblivious to Greg's exhausted expression.
"Sorry to bother you so early, but my wife's been nagging me about getting proper protection."
"What? You need condoms or something?"
"What's a condom...?"
"Never mind, continue."
"So I want an armor, not for fighting, mind you, just something sturdy for working in the fields. Too many accidents with farm tools lately."
Greg squinted at the destroyed vest. "What happened to this one?"
"Caught on a fence post and tore clean through. Third one this year." Thomas scratched his head sheepishly.
"I know you said you don't make weapons or combat gear, but this would just be for farm work. Maybe something that won't tear so easy?"
Against his better judgment, Greg found himself nodding. A simple protective vest for farm work seemed harmless enough. No weapons, no combat applications, just practical clothing that could withstand rough use.
"Fine," Greg said. "But just the vest. And it's for farming only."
"Of course, of course! Just for farming!" Thomas beamed.
"You're a lifesaver, Master Greg!"
After dealing with the rest of the morning crowd and promising to think about their requests, Greg finally got to work on Thomas's vest. He started with sturdy leather, reinforced with thin steel plates at key points. Nothing fancy, just practical protection against thorns, sharp tools, and rough work.
But as his hammer struck the metal plates, Greg felt that familiar tingle of power flowing through his hands. The leather seemed to mold itself perfectly under his touch, and the steel plates aligned themselves in patterns that maximized both protection and flexibility.
"Just a vest," Greg muttered to himself.
"Simple farm protection. Nothing weird is going to happen."
He added some basic enchantments for durability and comfort. The vest should breathe well in hot weather and keep the wearer warm in cold. It should resist tears and punctures. And since farmers worked long hours, maybe a little something to prevent fatigue.
That's when things started to go wrong. The fatigue-prevention enchantment seemed to take on a life of its own.
Greg watched in growing horror as runes spread across the vest in intricate patterns he definitely hadn't intended. The leather began to shimmer with a faint golden light, and he could swear he heard music.
"No, no, no," Greg said, trying to suppress the enchantment. "Stop doing that."
"You're a vest, not a concert hall."
The vest didn't listen. By the time he finished, it was humming with energy that felt distinctly different from his other creations. Not dangerous exactly, but definitely not what he'd planned.
[Crafting Complete!]
[Item Created: Vest of Perpetual Motion]
[Quality Rank: SSS]
[Special Properties: Indestructible, Perfect comfort in all weather, Wearer cannot stop dancing]
[Warning: Side effects may include involuntary waltzing, spontaneous jigs, and occasional moonwalking]
[New Achievement: Rhythmic Disaster]
Greg stared at the notification. "Cannot stop dancing? CANNOT STOP FUCKING DANCING?"
[The enchantment interpreted 'prevent fatigue' as 'keep body moving']
[This is technically your fault]
[The gods are recording this for posterity]
"I hate everything about this," Greg said, but he knew he couldn't just throw the vest away.
Thomas had already paid him in advance with fresh vegetables and a promise to fix his roof. Besides, maybe the system was exaggerating. Maybe it would just make the wearer feel a bit energetic.
Thomas came by that evening to pick up his new vest, practically vibrating with excitement. "Is it done? Can I see it?"
Greg held up the vest reluctantly. It looked normal enough, if you ignored the faint golden shimmer and the barely audible humming.
"It's perfect!" Thomas grabbed it immediately and pulled it on over his shirt.
"Fits like a dream! And it feels so light, like I'm wearing nothing at all."
For a moment, nothing happened. Thomas patted himself down, testing the vest's flexibility, and nodded approvingly.
Greg allowed himself a small sigh of relief. Maybe the system had been wrong this time. The enchantment probably wasn't as bad as it sounded.
Then Thomas's left foot tapped. Just once, a simple little tap in time with music that only he could hear.
"Huh," Thomas said. "That's odd."
His right foot tapped. Then his hips swayed. Before either of them could react, Thomas burst into a full waltz, spinning gracefully across the workshop floor with an imaginary partner.
"Master Greg?" Thomas called out, his voice remarkably steady despite the fact that he was now performing what looked like a professional ballroom routine.
"I don't think this is normal!"
"Take it off!" Greg shouted.
"I'm trying!" Thomas reached for the vest's straps while continuing to waltz.
"But my hands won't stop moving!"
Indeed, Thomas's hands were now involved in the dance, gesturing elegantly through the air as he spun and dipped. His feet moved in perfect rhythm, carrying him around the workshop in elaborate patterns that would have impressed any dancing master.
The commotion drew a crowd, because of course it did. Villagers peeked through the windows and doorway, watching in amazement as Thomas danced with more grace than he'd ever shown in his entire life.
"Is this part of the vest's magic?" someone asked.
"He's actually pretty good!" another voice added.
Thomas completed a particularly impressive spin and immediately transitioned into what looked like a traditional folk dance, his feet hammering against the floor in rapid rhythmic patterns. "Master Greg, please make it stop!"
"My wife is going to kill me!"
Greg rushed forward and managed to unbuckle the vest after several attempts, though Thomas kept dancing even as Greg tried to remove it. The moment the vest came off, Thomas collapsed onto the floor, breathing heavily.
"What," Thomas gasped, "was that?"
"A mistake," Greg said firmly.
"A terrible, terrible mistake. I'm so sorry."
But the crowd outside had different opinions. They were clapping and cheering, and someone had already run off to fetch the village musicians.
"That was incredible!" the village chief said, pushing his way inside.
"Thomas, I didn't know you could dance like that!"
"I can't!" Thomas protested from the floor. "It was the vest! The vest made me do it!"
The chief picked up the discarded vest, examining it with interest. "A garment that grants its wearer perfect dancing ability?"
"Master Greg, this is revolutionary! Do you know how much nobles would pay for something like this?"
"It's a farming vest," Greg said weakly.
"It was supposed to help with farm work."
"Well, it certainly keeps you moving," Thomas admitted, finally catching his breath.
"I've never felt so energetic. Though maybe a bit too energetic."
[Quest Complete: Create Cursed Item]
[Reward: Skill Points x5]
[New Title: Master of Unintended Consequences]
[Warning: Your creations are becoming increasingly absurd]
[The gods suggest you just accept this and lean into it]
Greg sat down heavily on his workbench. This was getting out of hand.
First farming tools that caused earthquakes, then cookware that killed monsters, and now clothing that forced people to dance. There had to be a pattern here, some explanation for why everything he made went completely sideways.
Then it hit him. The system wasn't rating things based just on quality. It was rating them based on how unique and powerful they were.
And apparently, the more absurd and unexpected the effect, the higher the ranking. A sword that cut through mountains was impressive but predictable. A hoe that organized crops by ripeness? That was unusual.
A frying pan that doubled as a dragon-slaying shield? Even more unique. And a vest that turned farmers into unwilling dancers? Absolutely ridiculous, and therefore, legendary.
"I understand now," Greg said slowly.
"The system wants me to make weird things."
[Correct!]
[Boring items get low ranks]
[Creative and unexpected items get SSS ranks]
[You're finally catching on]
"But I don't want to make weird things! I want to make normal, peaceful, and helpful items!"
[Those can be the same things]
[Your hoe helps people farm better]
[Your frying pan helps people cook and not die to wyverns]
[Your dancing vest helps people exercise]
[You're just approaching 'helpful' from creative angles]
Greg couldn't argue with that logic, much as he wanted to. His items were helpful, technically. They just had unexpected bonus features that made them legendary instead of ordinary.
Thomas had recovered enough to stand, though he kept a wary distance from the vest. "Master Greg, I appreciate the effort, but I don't think my wife would appreciate me waltzing through the wheat fields."
"Keep it anyway," Greg said tiredly. "Maybe you can use it for village festivals or something."
"I'll make you a normal vest, I promise. A boring, regular, absolutely mundane vest with no enchantments whatsoever."
"You sure?" Thomas looked at the shimmering garment with mixed feelings.
"It did feel really good while I was wearing it, dancing aside."
"I'm sure. Just please don't tell anyone else about this one."
Thomas nodded and carefully folded the vest, treating it like it might start dancing on its own at any moment. As he left, Greg could hear him explaining to the crowd outside that the vest was a "prototype" and "not quite ready for public use."
Greg laid his head on his anvil and closed his eyes. Two weeks in this new world, and he'd already created a legendary arsenal of completely impractical items. At this rate, he'd be famous for all the wrong reasons by the end of the month.
[New Quest Available: Embrace Your Destiny]
[Create 3 more absurd but helpful items]
[Reward: Advanced Workshop Upgrade]
[The gods believe in you]
"The gods can believe in someone else," Greg muttered.
But even as he said it, his mind was already racing with ideas. A broom that cleaned houses while singing opera. A teapot that predicted the weather. A pillow that gave pleasant dreams but also translated them into bad poetry.
He sat up abruptly. "No. Absolutely not. I refuse to become known as the Blacksmith of Ridiculous Items."
[Too late]
[That's already your reputation]
[Marina is telling everyone about her amazing cookware]
Greg checked the window and saw three adventurers approaching his workshop, looking excited and determined.
Behind them, a merchant's cart loaded with materials pulled into the village square. And was that a noble's carriage in the distance?
"I need a vacation," Greg said.
[You've been here two weeks]
[Also, vacations are for quitters]
[Get back to work]
With a resigned sigh, Greg returned to his forge. If he was going to be stuck making absurd legendary items, he might as well make them properly. Though next time, he was definitely reading the enchantment warnings more carefully before finishing anything.