"Can I give it a try?"
"Don't, Felix!" Greg moved forward, but it was too late.
Felix, who is brilliant but has no common sense, threw the vest at the soldiers. "Hey, you guys look stressed out!"
"That vest could help!"
A soldier caught the vest when it fell on him. The spell started to work as soon as his hands touched it, making his body instantly go into a waltz position, with his legs moving in perfect ballroom style.
"What the—" The soldier tried to stop, but his body wouldn't let him. He spun around gracefully, and with each precise step, his armor clanked.
Then the vest's magic spread, overwhelming them with its power. One by one, the soldiers next to him started to dance. It started with quiet foot tapping and grew into full-blown dance moves. Within thirty seconds, half of the military group was doing an elaborate polka in perfect time.
"MAKE IT STOP!" one soldier yelled in the middle of a twirl.
"I DON'T KNOW HOW!" another person said, doing a perfect pirouette that would have made ballet teachers cry with joy.
Captain Roderick, who had been able to avoid the dancing plague by staying far away, looked at his men with a look of pure terror. "What kind of sorcery is this?"
"It's not magic, more like enchantment," Seraphine said from the door of the workshop, her voice calm even though there was a lot going on. "More specifically, a kinetic compulsion effect that is linked to proximity activation."
"Very interesting, actually."
"HELP US TAKE IT OFF!!!"
Greg sighed and walked over to the soldier who was dancing and had caught the vest. He carefully took it off while avoiding the soldier's flailing limbs.
The dancing stopped as soon as the vest came off, and the soldiers fell to the ground in piles of exhaustion, their honor and pride were completely destroyed.
Greg said in a friendly tone, "So, do you still want to arrest me?"
Captain Roderick looked at his troops, who were dirty, tired, and completely embarrassed, then at the dented breastplate on his chest, and finally at the strange group of people standing around Greg to protect him, making his professional calm on the verge of breaking.
"What is really going on in this village?" he asked, his voice tight.
"Peace," Greg said. "Peace that is chaotic, strange, and sometimes explosive."
"Your men weren't hurt, to be exact, they were just embarrassed."
"The hammer throw was a way to protect yourself from what you thought was a threat. And I've been meaning to deal with the problem with the dancing vest."
"So unless you want to tell the king how his best soldiers lost to things in the house, let's just say this was a misunderstanding and move on to continue our daily life, yes?"
The captain didn't say anything for a long time. He looked at Greg, the workshop behind him, and the strange group of people who had somehow formed a defensive line without even talking about it. Finally, he fixed his dented breastplate and spoke.
"The crown will hear about this."
Greg said, "I'm sure they will."
"Tell them I'm still not making weapons till'the day I die."
Captain Roderick got his troops together, most of whom were still catching their breath from the dance they had to do, and led them out of the village with as much dignity as they could find while shouting from afar. "We'll never forget about this...!"
Felix let out a whoop of joy when they left. "Did you see that? We completely defended the workshop!"
"That was fire and peakeeedddd...!!!"
Greg said, "You were the cause of most of the problems."
"Problems that went away on their own! Isn't that the best kind to have?!" Felix was almost bouncing. "And look!" He pointed at the air where his system notification was probably showing up.
"My quest is done!" I got my first summoning power!"
"What can you call?" Bork asked, still looking a little sick but proud of how far he threw the hammer.
"Let me see..." Felix's eyes got distant as he read his system message, and then his face fell. "Oh... shit..."
"What?" Greg asked with caution.
"I can call house cats. Like normal house cats that aren't magical and are small." Felix looked like he was going to die. "My grand summoning ability is cats... only... fucking... cats..."
Marina laughed so hard that she had to lean against the wall of the workshop. "This is just right. You're all perfect disasters."
"We stood up for Greg, though," Bork said in his defense. "Even if it was mostly by accident."
"Accident or not, you stood up," Lylia said, and her voice was full of real warmth. "Both of you. That takes guts to challenge someone from the military, you know."
Greg looked at Felix and Bork, two dumbasses who had accidentally made a defensive line with household items and thrown hammers, and something changed in his chest. They were disasters, but they were his disasters.
"Hey, you know what?" Greg said. "We need a name."
"A name...?" Felix's eyes lit up right away. "Like a name for a guild or a name for a party?"
"Something like that." Greg waved to include the workshop, the group of misfits, and the whole crazy scene. "We're not fighters, and we're also not heroes."
"We're just a bunch of idiots trying to make things peaceful in a world that keeps asking for weapons."
Elwen quietly suggested, "The Brotherhood of Peace."
"It fits, right? "A group of people who seek peace through unconventional methods."
"I love it!" Felix raised his fist. "The Brotherhood of Peace! We protect ourselves with everyday things and unexpected accidents!"
"That's not very inspiring," Seraphine said.
Marina said, "But it's true," with a smile.
Greg looked around at his found family, a group of misfits who somehow got along even though they didn't make sense. "Okay then. It is the Brotherhood of Peace."
"Do we get clothes that match?" Felix asked with hope.
"No," Greg said.
"Tools that match?" Bork suggested.
"Maybe."
"A motto for the group?" Mira showed up, already looking excited about putting something new together.
Lylia said, "How about we make bonds instead of weapons?"
Greg smiled even though he didn't want to. "That works."
The Brotherhood of Peace had officially formed out of chaos, with dancing vests and thrown hammers protecting them, and no one knew how they had become famous. Least of all, Greg himself.