Arthur's face darkened.

As the orphan of Nukamanda, he was born with a wheat-colored face. At this time, he was squeezed by the high temperature, and the color of the oil and skin decreased. In just a few moments, it became as dark as the Duwa people.

Become, like Watcher.

Arthur collapsed on his knees, hunched over, and breathing became increasingly difficult.

His whole body was severely burned, but he no longer felt pain or resisted the flames. Even though his lips were chapped and bright red, his eyes were still fixed on the material, trying desperately to use the remaining thoughts to record the changes in the forging.

"Has the teacher ever forged in front of himself?"

This question suddenly came to Arthur's mind.

…

On his fifth night in the refugee camp, he had his legs broken in the back alley of the workshop because he was hungry and stole food. When he was crawling towards the firelight of the furnace, an old man was wiping the utensils with fine linen.

Watcher caressed every corner with concentration, turning a deaf ear to the orphan.

Arthur lay beside the door rail, watching the other person process through the gap, without moaning or asking for help, treating this as the last memory in his life.

The utensils were placed in iron boxes.

After reading the last step, he fainted completely and heard footsteps in a trance...

…

"Teacher, you see, my war blade made of scrap materials cut off all their work. The blacksmiths have to punish those arrogant fools to death. Bah, they dare to call themselves workshop apprentices like this!"

Arthur raised his open-bladed weapon.

Watcher frowned, pushed it away with a copper teaspoon, and then examined his apprentice's injuries without saying a word.

The ointment used by the witch doctor in the north was very wild. Even with serious wounds, Arthur would not cry. But when the group of senior apprentices laughed at Worchier for being "useless", he really felt the sting in his heart.

"Teacher, when will you teach me how to forge weapons?"

The old and paranoid man did not refute or curse at this time.

He frowned and sighed deeply.

"Teacher, am I wrong..."

"No, of course not. Your road is long and exciting. I'm just a little sorry."

When the giant palm caressed his head, Arthur did not understand the weight, but felt that he should work harder.

…

call--

Arthur put down the forging hammer tremblingly, his arms shaking continuously.

It was both exhausting and exciting.

The weird dwarf did not deceive himself. Although this forging method is difficult, it is really powerful. At least no one among the apprentices in the same class can surpass it. There is no comparison example!

Cheers came from around the workshop.

The other candidates looked over eagerly.

Mr. Malungu tapped his chin, and the senior craftsmen rushed to say congratulations to Watcher.

But my teacher... looked so tired. He opened his mouth and closed his eyes. His back was so lonely.

Arthur looked natural.

He is not showing off, nor is he eager to be included in the workshop list, but is planning something more distant.

Watcher has long been a three-ring blacksmith.

The next day, he gave up his working position with his apprentice and moved into the Forging Valley. Only every time when work was over, everyone would see Arthur leaving with his teacher.

Rain or shine, but I rarely see them talking to each other.

Once upon a time, "becoming famous among the Dua tribe" was the dream of an orphan.

But when Arthur stood in Malungu's workshop, he suddenly felt that the stage could be wider. He wanted the North, and even the continent of Osua, to praise his skills!

As for the teacher, as a spiritual craftsman, he may not be able to understand it.

Arthur never thought about explaining, and he studied technology unscrupulously. He paranoidly fantasized about the day when he would be glorious, and maybe Mr. Watcher would be able to smile for his achievements.

that's enough.

…

Ken took off his armor, and the inner lining was soaked with sweat.

[Status: Burned 16%]

[Fire resistance is increased, willpower is increased, and the upper limit of magic power is increased.]

Ken held Arthur with one hand and continued to use experience points to treat their injuries. Even so, the [Burning] state could not be cleared.

"Speak, answer me, are you still conscious?"

He shouted against the turbulence.

Arthur sat on his knees and did not answer. His eyes may have been blind, but they were never closed.

He was breathing weakly and seemed to be in a coma, trapped in a revolving door of memories and reality...

Fall repeatedly.

As for Watcher in the distance, his limbs are swollen, his muscles are filled with magic, and he has long lost his self-awareness. He turns his body into a hub to maintain the processing of materials by the power of the old gods.

The thunder condenses into a hammer, and the roaring wind stirs up the dark clouds.

A ripple was opened, and the surrounding heat wave was blocked.

Ken's limbs were weak and he used his arms to support the ground to prevent him from completely collapsing.

From his tongue to his lungs, he was half-cooked and could only rely on experience points to survive.

Arthur has completely turned into a "mummy", with dark skin, severe burns, and even his muscles have shrunk a lot.

"If he can survive this, he will be a very good blacksmith in the future. I heard that you will take him away and train him well. I think he has a chance to inherit the ancient furnace."

Loud voice.

Ken didn't need to look back to know that [Malungu] was standing behind him.

At this time, there are large and small [Iron Oracle Rings] floating around. Whether it is the number or the ability to control the temperature, they all show the courage of the furnace owner.

Ken also noticed the change in the flow rate of experience points.

He tentatively removed his hand.

Arthur's last bit of blood dropped instantly, but at the critical moment of life and death, it was protected by some kind of power, leaving only a little bit left, allowing the body to reshape itself after repeated destruction and find itself in the flames.

"Needless to say, you have already figured it out. The tempered liquid ball is your material."

Malungu crossed his arms.

"Watcher came to me earlier tonight and said he would take on your order."

His blanket-like white hair now lost the restraints of its rings, covering his body like a thick blanket of snow. His muscles were knotted and his veins were bulging, able to withstand the harshest winter in the north.

"I refused, but repaying the favor doesn't mean anything."

Malungu didn't hide anything.

He continued: "Watcher took off the ring and said that his apprentice had grown up and he wanted to build something good enough for him to learn from."

The snowflakes are evaporated into hot air currents, constantly washing the cliffs on both sides of the valley.

[Forging has reached a bottleneck, the purity of the material is too high, and there is no framework that can restrain the power within it. 】

Watcher's body began to show signs of damage.

The consequences of the weapons created by the spirit craftsmen are disastrous.

In terms of the process, although it is not like being drained of life directly like the "Winter Mother Sacrifice", using the body to transform the power of the old gods, the longer it takes, the greater the risk.

"Your sword... I'm afraid it will be destroyed."

Malungu breathed heavily.

The ancient furnace is about to be opened, and the rarest drawings of the Dua tribe have been sealed, and many accessories have been taken away to prepare for the "Day of God's Forging".

Just when the furnace owner was hesitating whether to break into the sacrificial place...

Ken suddenly stood up.
Chapter completed!