Downton bought a batch of magic potion ingredients at the pharmacy, ordered some more, and went straight out of Morning Mist Town.
"Be careful, someone is following us." Arnold looked back, frowning, "It's definitely not safe along the way."
"If they want to rob me, they have to catch up with me first." Downton took out the soul mount badge, infused it with magic energy, and a snow-white crescent unicorn sprang out.
Arnold took a few steps back, his face full of shock, which then turned into excitement and curiosity. This was the first time he had seen such a monster.
"This is the legendary unicorn? Can I touch it?" Arnold looked at the mount up and down, but did not reach out rashly.
"Yeah!" Downton had been observing Arnold, and releasing the mount was also a test. Now he saw that he didn't show a greedy look, and he was relieved.
Arnold stroked the unicorn's back, feeling a little chilled.
Although the elves used superb skills to preserve all the characteristics of the unicorn in life, it was dead after all. Otherwise, no man except a pure girl would dare to touch it, and he would definitely be attacked.
"This is this month's salary." Downton took out thirty gold coins and handed them to Arnold, "Whatever you want, go buy some!"
"I haven't worked yet." Arnold refused. Downton's actions made him feel warm in his chest, and he had the urge to die for his bosom friend.
"Take it, I'm going ahead. You go to the dagger mine by yourself. I'll arrange for someone to wait for you at the door." After Downton forced the money to Arnold, he got on his horse.
After telling him, Downton knocked his horse's belly with his feet, and the unicorn ran wildly like clouds in the sky.
"It's a soul mount. He actually has such a good thing!"
"Today was an eye-opener. I actually saw a unicorn in a remote area."
"Perfect weapons, servants, unicorns, and yes, war space props. Is he really the illegitimate son of a big shot?"
The mercenaries who were following him were dumbfounded when they saw Downton disappearing from the end of the field of vision. He was riding a unicorn. Even if they were riding a pure-blood war horse worth millions, they couldn't catch up. Then they started talking.
No matter how they thought about Downton's identity, they didn't think he could accumulate such a rich fortune.
Arnold clutched the gold coins tightly, took a deep breath, and after finding out the location of the mine, he ran away. He was still a little happy in his heart. It seemed that he had found a good boss this time and no longer had to starve.
Downton is not short of money. If Arnold runs away, he can only think that he was blind and saw the wrong person, but if he bets correctly, he can definitely sell a big favor.
Barbarians are rude, violent, and unscrupulous, but they become their friends. There is no need to worry about being deceived.
The unicorn was so fast that before evening, Downton had already rushed back to the mine.
"Open the door quickly, the Downton overseer is back."
When the guard captain on the guard tower saw Downton, he immediately shouted at the top of his lungs and asked his men to quickly open the door and wait for him to enter.
"Well done!" Downton walked by and looked at the guards standing on both sides with a respectful attitude. He took out a gold coin, flicked it to the captain with a ding.
"Thank you for your reward." The captain smiled so hard that his yellow teeth cracked. Although Downton was young, he was much more generous than other overseers.
"Guard the door well." Downton waved his hand. He didn't get the money for free. He will have to go out frequently in the future and build good relationships to get convenience.
After reporting today's itinerary to Dofink and arranging for a miner to wait for Arnold, Downton went to the blacksmith area of the mine.
The distance was far away, and the tinkling sound of iron hitting my eardrums was a bit uncomfortable.
This is the mine's exclusive blacksmith shop, responsible for repairing and forging mining tools. When Downton entered the open shed, the blacksmiths were sweating profusely and working feverishly.
Phew, a red-hot iron bar was put into water by the blacksmith to cool down, and a lot of white gas came out.
"Master overseer!" The blacksmith saw Downton and greeted him awkwardly. His voice also attracted others' attention, and they all stood up straight and said hello with a smile on their faces.
Downton has been in the limelight recently. There are rumors that he is a direct descendant of Dofink, and is used to fight against Doshav and Superintendent Ram. Coupled with his strong record, the blacksmiths naturally treat him respectfully, fearing that he will be defeated by him.
Find faults and fix them.
"Who has the best forging skills here?" The shed in the blacksmith area is very large, and there are at least more than 300 blacksmiths. Of course, Downton has to choose the best one.
Before the blacksmith could answer, the steward who had received the news hurried over and shouted, "How come the supervisor came to a place like this? It's dirty and smelly. If I need anything, just give me an order."
"
The steward was a man in his thirties, but facing Downton, who was only fifteen years old, he was so humble that he couldn't be ashamed of himself.
Downton repeated his purpose, and the steward immediately led him to find a middle-aged dwarf who was lying under the shade of a tree drinking.
"That's him, the dwarf blacksmith hired by the boss with a high salary."
The blacksmithing skills of the dwarves are famous throughout the Western Continent, so the blacksmiths they produce are also popular in the human kingdom. A noble who can afford a dwarf blacksmith also means that he is worth a lot of money.
"Hey, the overseer wants to build something, come here and help."
The dwarf blacksmith glanced at Downton. He didn't care at first, but when he saw him holding the grimoire, opening the war space and taking out a set of warrior hoplite armor, his eyes almost popped out of his head.
The other blacksmiths were not much better. Looking at the bronze light door, they were all shocked beyond measure. The steward was so close that he even wanted to reach out and touch it. You must know that this is probably the only chance he will get in this life.
"I want to install a foot-long steel claw on this suit of armor. Can I do it?"
Before Downton could finish speaking, the dwarf had already rushed over, stroking the warrior's armor and praising it again and again, "Beautiful, so beautiful. Look at the forging craftsmanship. It's equipment from at least a thousand years ago. Where did you get it?"
"Heirloom." Downton didn't expect the dwarf to have very good eyesight. Just as he was about to find an excuse, the dwarf said something that frightened him.
"Your ancestors were soldiers of the Saint Judranian Empire?" The dwarf knocked on the armor, his face full of excitement, "I remembered that I had seen the shape of this armor in my mentor's books, called 'Warrior'
', which is the standard infantry equipment once used by Jutland."
"You remember it wrong." Downton's expression remained unchanged as he drove the steward away, "You have nothing to do here. Let's go!"
The manager was reluctant, but Downton gave him a hard look before leaving.
"Can it be done?" Downton looked at the dwarves. Their average lifespan was five hundred years old. With their unshaven beards and old faces, it was difficult to tell their age.
"What a waste of natural resources. Such a good armor, why are there steel claws?" The dwarf quit and scolded Downton, "It will hinder the battle."
"Just do as I say. As a reward, I will give you a barrel of fine wine." Downton offered the price. He couldn't tell the dwarves that except for Jackson, none of the ghoul servants would use it at all.
arms.
For a dwarf who is addicted to alcohol, the remuneration paid by Downton is very generous, but he wants something more, "I will do it for you for free, and I will pay you two thousand, no, three thousand gold coins, and you can sell it to
I have a set of warrior armor."
The dwarf hugged the armor and stared at Downton, as if he was ready to snatch it away if he didn't agree.
"Do you think I'm a fool?" Downton rolled his eyes, "The cost of this armor is only two thousand gold marks."
"But it has been more than a thousand years, and they are all useless." The dwarf argued, his brown eyes full of cunning.
"Hmph, look at it, how well preserved it is." Downton flicked the armor with his fingers, and the metallic sound was clear, "If it were sold as an antique at an auction house, without a hundred thousand Jindlan, you wouldn't even have the right to bid."
"How about ten thousand gold coins?" The dwarf blacksmith refused to give up and continued to raise the price.
The blacksmiths around have been peeking here. When they heard the dwarf's voice, they were stunned. They all looked at the scratched armor in disbelief. They didn't expect it to be so valuable?
"Don't think about it, it's impossible." Downton shook his head, "Whether you do it or not, I will find someone else."
"No, I did it." The dwarf sighed dejectedly, knowing that he could not deceive this young man. He was indeed planning to study the craftsmanship and then put it up for auction and make a lot of money.
Downton held a branch, drew a picture on the ground, and described his idea of installing steel claws. He wanted to see if the dwarf blacksmith had any other ideas for improvement. After all, he was a professional blacksmith.
"What? You actually use this kind of armor to fight? Are you crazy?" The dwarf was stunned, and then he yelled, "They should be placed in the homes of nobles to show the family's heritage."
"You are talking nonsense, I will go find another blacksmith." Downton was very impatient after being sprayed with saliva, wondering when he would have a private blacksmith. He estimated that this guy's nagging would be gone in less than a day.
Spread throughout the dagger mines.
The sun was setting, and in the iron furnace room, the fire reflected Downton's cheeks.
"Okay!" Looking at the steel claws installed on the armor, the dwarf Jirou breathed out, "How about it? It's definitely a master's craftsmanship."
"If you were a master, you would have become a blacksmith for the royal family. Why are you still working in the mines?" Downton despised, and then released fifty sets of armor.
With a bang, the hammer in Giroud's hand fell off and hit his foot hard, but he didn't feel anything, only a dull look on his face.
"Where did you get so many 'warriors'?" Giroud looked at the neatly arranged suits and rushed over. "Did you dig up the tomb of a member of the Jutland Empire's royal family and find the burial objects?"
Other than this reason, Giroud couldn't figure out why Downton had so many sets of armor.
"Get to work quickly." Downton didn't want to be so blatant, but there was no way. He couldn't forge himself, and no matter who he approached, the secret would be revealed.
"Please be sure to give me a set!" Giroud ran to Downton on two short legs, grabbed his clothes and yelled, "I want to be your personal blacksmith."
"I can't support you." Downton wanted to pull Giroud away, but this guy's grip was tight. (To be continued...)