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... enth floor of the Sitianjian, Song Qing rolled up his sleeves, holding a purple-gold hammer and a pair of tongs of the same color, and stood in front of the anvil to forge steel.

His white clothes were covered with black ash, his forehead was sweating, and with thick dark circles under his eyes, he looked like he would die suddenly at any time.

After forging out the impurities, Song Qing took out a dark-gold nail, aimed at the iron embryo, and hit the nail head hard with a sledge ...

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If he wanted to boss around, he could do whatever he wanted. I would continue to farm, but if he tried to attack me, then he would not live to see another day.

Zhao Hai was a shut-in until he was transmigrated to another world with a farm and taken over the body of a fallen noble. The land that the noble had was one that could not grow anything. He also had a fiance who was the heir to a principality. To make matters even worse, he was talentless in martial arts and magic where he couldn’t even learn both.

“So what if I can’t do magic? I have my farm. Let’s see you try and attack me! I’ll let my bugs out to devour all of your military rations! I’ll put pesticides in your water source and grow weeds on your land! Let’s see you try and attack me after that!”

“What? You’ll hire assassins to kill me? Try and do that when I’m hiding inside my farmhouse. Once that is over, I’ll rid your country of all your food sources! Your citizens will come after you instead of you coming after me!”

The shut-in had a slightly foul personality. This is a story of how he, and his farm, became a nightmare to the people of a world of swords and magic.

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