ChellyArks

"You're just a Nenner! A glorified blacksmith! You can't possibly stand up against a Zahler's elemental power!"


"As if that'll stop me! A Zahler might have the elements under their control, but that won't matter if I have a Seigel-riddled weapon for every occasion!"


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Wesen... the innate power within that allows a person to manipulate the world around them. While it sounded straightforward enough, Rouge still has a lot to learn if he wanted to harness it for his own benefit. Thankfully, being a standard guy with blacksmithing as a hobby had given him a headstart in the new pseudo-medieval world that he now found himself in. In fact, blacksmithing in general is an integral part of his new life and the Wesen-filled wonders that entailed it.


It was a good thing too, especially since it would be the one ticket he had to get out of the servitude of the Empire that insisted on grinding him under its heel.


With his newfound power of rune-like Seigels at his disposal, Rouge will take the Matheman Empire by storm as he builds his rebellion into a force to be reckoned with. He will ensure that his fellow Nenners will be free from the Empire's oppressive practises, and he sure as hell will do it if it was the last thing he did.


Well, that, and he refused to live in a backwater medieval world for longer than he could manage it. His modern sensibilities demanded proper technology, and he was sure that even his half-complete understanding of modern science will give him the edge he needs to take on a literal continent-spanning Empire.



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Smith and Wesen: A Modern Blacksmith's Magical Reincarnation

Quickly yet deftly exposing the patient's intestines, I almost cursed out loud as his small intestines practically spilled out in between the gap that I made between his muscles.

"Yikes..." I cringed as the swollen organ writhed and gurgled in front of me.

To both of my sides, I couldn't help but join in on the flabbergasted and horrified looks adorning both of my assistants. Anna looked absolutely pale, her mouth agape with the shape of horror and morbid fascination as her eyes remained glued to the writhing mass of organs. Emeraud, meanwhile, looked straight up like she was about to faint. She was somehow paler than her peer, an achievement that meant she was only a few steps away from becoming a patient herself.

"F-Focus," I called out, stopping Emeraud from stuttering all over the patient. "We're far from done."

20.9 Surgery