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"Master Rurik! A word, if you please!"

"I have a commission for you, Master Dwarf! A sword! Fit for a king!"

"Master Rurik, my lord requires a new set of armor! And he\'s willing to pay handsomely!"

But Rurik ignored them all as his gaze fixed on the two figures standing near the counter, the young man Joh and the woman beside him. The moment he saw her, he sensed something about her. She didn\'t radiate any godly aura. But, the intensity in her eyes and a quiet power made the hairs on his neck stand on end.

"John," He approached them, forcing a casual smile onto his face, and greeted Michael with a respectful.

"Master Rurik," Michael nodded, his gaze meeting Rurik\'s. "Perhaps… we could talk… in private?"

"Of course, of course," Rurik stammered, gesturing towards the staircase. "Right this way."

As they followed him, the other customers, their curiosity piqued, exchanged whispers.

"Who are those two?" a noble asked, his voice laced with a hint of suspicion.

"They look important, those two," a merchant murmured, his gaze lingering on Gaya\'s form. "And that woman, she\'s stunning. "

"Never seen them before," another noble remarked, shrugging. "But that young man seems familiar somehow."

One particularly bold noble even approached the receptionist, who\'d just returned to her post with her brow furrowed in thought.

"Who are those two?" he demanded, his voice a haughty drawl. "And why did Master Rurik ignore me? I\'ve been waiting for hours!"

The receptionist, her eyes wide, simply shrugged.

"I… I don\'t know, my lord," she stammered. "They just asked to see him. And he just went with them."

Once inside Rurik\'s office, the door closed and locked, the dwarf let out a heavy sigh of relief.

"Your… your grace, your majesty… your…" he stammered, his gaze darting between Michael and Gaya as his mind struggled to find the appropriate title for a god.Nôv(el)B\\\\jnn

"We\'ve been over this, Rurik, I told you John is fine. No need for big words, I told you before, words don\'t impress me," Michael chuckled.

"Right… John," Rurik mumbled, still slightly unnerved. Thus, he poured himself a mug of ale, his hands trembling slightly, and took a long swig, hoping the alcohol would calm his nerves. He had never been this damn close to not one, but two gods at the same time. He glanced at Gaya, who was watching him with an amused smirk on her lips.

"Rurik," Michael said, his voice taking on a more serious tone, "meet Gaya. The Goddess of Monsters."

The words made Rurik choke almost immediately. He sprayed ale across the table, coughing and spluttering, his eyes wide with shock. The Goddess of fucking Monsters? Here? In his office? He heard whispers and legends about Gaya about how she was one of the most powerful and most feared, goddesses in the realm. And at that moment, he was there standing before her.

"Real classy, shorty," Gaya said, rolling her eyes.

"Relax, Rurik, she doesn\'t bite," Michael chuckled. "We\'re here for your… help."

Still reeling from the revelation, Rurik managed to wipe the spilled ale from his beard and the table with a shaky hand.

"My… help?" he stammered, his gaze fixed on Michael. "What… what can I do for you, John?"

"My armor, it needs fixing. And hers needs some upgrades,"

After hearing Michael, Rurik just stared at them with his mind struggling to process the information. Two gods in his office asking for his help? It was an honor, a privilege, and a testament to his skill and craftsmanship. He was just a mortal, for God\'s sake, he could not believe two gods were there for him and asking for his help. It suddenly made him feel better and forget about the stupid clay supply. Even the gods, it seemed, needed a good blacksmith.

"Let me see what I\'m… working with," Rurik said, puffing out his chest, a hint of professional pride creeping into his voice. He couldn\'t help the slight, almost arrogant, smile that tugged at the corners of his lips.

"Show me the… armors," he said, gesturing towards the center of the room, where a large anvil, its surface blackened and scarred from countless hammer blows, stood waiting. Your next journey awaits at empire

With a casual shrug, Michael removed the skull medallion from his chest, placing it on a nearby armor stand. With a soft whirring sound, the armor retracted, folding in on itself and stood menacingly on the armor stand.

"Wow," Rurik\'s eyes widened as he took in the workmanship. It was a magnificent piece of craftsmanship, fit for a god.

The black metal, etched with crimson runes that pulsed with a faint, inner light, the intricate carvings and the menacing skull emblem was enough to make a lesser being piss themselves. But even more impressive were the dents, the scratches and the cracks that marred its once-pristine surface.

"What in the hell?" he murmured, his fingers tracing the lines of a particularly deep gouge in the metal. What kind of force could have done that to a god\'s armor? And what kind of metal was this, anyway? Could those be ancient centipede scales, incorporated into the design? It was unlike anything he\'d ever seen before and so many questions rang inside his head.

He approached the armor, running his fingers over the dented chest plate, tracing the jagged cracks with a mix of awe and… professional curiosity.

"What… what happened to it?" he asked, unable to contain his curiosity any longer.

"Don\'t freak out, Rurik," Michael sighed.

"You just told me she\'s the Goddess of freakin\' Monsters, and asked me to make you a crossbow that could kill a god. I don\'t think anything you say can \'freak me out\' anymore, John," Rurik snorted.

Hearing Rurik, Michael chuckled as he couldn\'t wait to freak out Rurik once again.

"Agra happened, Rurik. Before I sent that crazy bastard to hell, he did his best to make my armor his scratching post, so now it looks like this,"

The words hit Rurik like a physical blow. He stared at Michael as his mind struggled to process what he had just heard.

"Agra?" he stammered.

"The God of Chaos? You… you killed Agra?"

His ale mug slipped from his grasp and clattered to the floor.

"We drowned the bastard," Gaya chimed in, grinning. "And then we took care of his little fan club. I personally burned those bastards to ashes, slow and painful, just like roasting bad fucking turkeys,." She relished the look of disgust and fear that flickered across Rurik\'s face as she described the festivities.

"You\'re a sick puppy, Gaya," Michael chuckled, shaking his head.

But Rurik wasn\'t laughing. He was still trying to process the fact that gods could be… killed. He hadn\'t even come to terms with Rainar\'s death yet and now Michael just dropped another bomb on him. Another god? Gone? And Agra, no less? The self-proclaimed God of Chaos, a being whose reputation preceded him like a bad smell.

"I need a drink or two or a damn fucking barrell," he muttered, pouring himself another mug of ale, his hand shaking so badly that he almost spilled it. He downed the ale in one gulp, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"So let me get this straight," he said, setting the mug down with a heavy thud. "You fought Agra. And won? And killed him?"

"Not fought, exactly," Gaya said with a smirk. "More like he beat the ever-loving shit out of Agra. Then we drowned him in a pond,"

"Right…" Rurik said slowly, still trying to process the information. Then he sighed, shaking his head.

"Well, I can\'t say I\'m heartbroken. I\'d heard things. About Agra and his followers. Even Seshat\'s domain isn\'t immune to their influence. It\'s good riddance if you ask me." He looked at Michael, a newfound respect dawning in his eyes. And it made him proud, somehow, to be associated with a god-killer. It proved those smug bastards weren\'t invincible and they could bleed and die.

"I can… fix your armor, John," he said, turning back to Michael. "Maybe even make a few improvements. But what about hers? You said upgrades?"

Michael nodded, gesturing towards Gaya.

"Show him your stealth suit, darling."

Gaya closed her eyes, focusing her will, and her stealth armor, a sleek, form-fitting suit of silver metal, materialized on the armor stand beside Michael\'s. It wasn\'t as imposing as Michael\'s Dark Armor. Instead, it was almost delicate and its surface was etched with countless tiny runes, shimmered with a faint, ethereal light.

Rurik approached the armor, his gaze sweeping over its intricate design, his brow furrowed in thought.

"Nice craftsmanship," he murmured, his fingers tracing the outline of one of the runes. "Let me guess, this turns you invisible?"

"Hmm," Michael nodded.

"It was made for a mortal. But Gaya, she\'s a goddess now. And well, let\'s just say her godly glow kinda clashes with the invisibility thing. We need you to adjust it and make it compatible,"

Rurik rubbed his beard thoughtfully, his gaze fixed on the armor.

"The energy flow of mortals and gods, it\'s different, John. Customizing this to suit a goddess will be a challenge. But…" he grinned, a spark of excitement in his eyes.

"I\'m up for it. Give me three days. I\'ll turn this into a masterpiece. Fit for a goddess,"