"I will tell you my identity, the bearer of the power of the old gods."
Malungu's voice was still as magnificent and powerful as ever, and his tone became quite serious at this time.
He had imagined that the other party would show superb swordsmanship, or some ancient fighting skills, or perhaps magic or secret arts...
"Child from Southern Xinjiang, how did you gain the trust of the old gods?"
"Sorry, I haven't formally introduced myself yet."
Ken understood the other party's surprise, but at least the other party was not hostile, and it seemed that he was not a traditional northerner.
"My name is Ken Buwell, the war banner of the Sandonkaya tribe."
"Sure enough."
Malungu nodded solemnly.
He had just seen the pattern, but he just couldn't believe it, and thought that some damn tattoo apprentice had violated a taboo.
"You deserve a good weapon. Don't look at me like that. I don't trust you, but I trust the vision of the old gods. Winter Mother is a kind god, and Qiwen's orphan should be passed on."
The furnace master looked at the other party's hand and made a sloppy prayer gesture.
Ken responded with the corresponding courtesy.
[History: It is said that in the era of the old gods, Winter Mother appeared and participated in the battle of Qiwen. The surviving humans chose to serve her and became the earliest subjects. The northerners who believed in Winter Mother were called "Qiwen's orphans." ]
Malungu put away his contempt.
He spread out the high-end paper produced by Hope, sketched the line draft with a homemade thick pen, and consulted Ken's opinion. This question raised his eyebrows again. The other party was quite accomplished in aesthetics.
Ken's style combines the elegance and refinement of the southern border with the wild passion of the northern border.
"I may refer to some of your inspiration when I make things in the future. If you encounter similar weapons and armor in the future, you can brag about it."
Malungu made a joke. He was in a good mood and encouraged the other party.
"The North is very vast. Show your fists and feet well. Maybe then, I will be the one who should be proud."
Ken bowed again in return.
This craftsman has a strong aura and is very responsible for his work.
During the time they were talking, the four giant furnaces around them gradually became quiet. The one in the corner was completely dim, as if it had finished its work. A strong middle-aged man walked out.
Ken then realized that it was a private workshop, and the real furnace was probably deeper.
[Paranoid Blacksmith]
[Attitude: Despair]
He is a local of Duwa Village, with short limbs, strong but still within the scope of humans. His hair has almost fallen off, but his beard is very lush, tied into three sections with a special ring.
He glanced at a few people, then put away his tools and left.
Not long after, several blacksmiths walked out of the other giant furnaces. Their wrists or hair were also decorated with that kind of ring, which seemed to be a symbol of some kind of status, ranging from three to six.
Everyone gathered around, shut up politely and observed, and did not disturb.
Ken looked back at Marungu next to him. The blanket-like white fur behind him was covered with large and small rings. No matter from the perspective of status or skills, he should be the best.
"When can I get it?"
"Half a year."
Ken was a little stunned and asked, "Even for you, it takes so long?"
He knew very well that although his materials were rare, they were far from top-notch. Look at the stone just now and the bottles of Asian dragon blood, they are all extremely precious.
"Don't question the efficiency of the furnace owner."
A blacksmith couldn't help but speak.
Marungu glared back, and everyone fell silent and took a half step back.
He didn't explain too much. After all, this involved Ken's privacy, and Zhan Jing was a respected existence in Pallotus.
He closed his cloudy white pupils and slowly said:
"Forging requires a lot of things. I stopped holding the hammer half a year ago to prepare for the opening of the ancient furnace. The real responsible persons for this weapon should be the craftsmen present here. They are the most skilled guys in the workshop."
Everyone saluted the furnace owner.
When they raised their heads, their faces were full of piety and seriousness. After all, what could be delivered to them were all very important objects.
At the same time, everyone began to look at this young man, secretly guessing his identity and origin.
Malungu straightened his back.
He was more than twice as tall as Ken. He scanned several huge furnaces with his eyes and said in a steady tone:
"First come, first served. You can see that each holder is very busy. You have to queue up for this order."
Ken looked around silently. On the dark cliffs on both sides, four blast furnaces were magnificent and magnificent. They all glowed with orange light and seemed to be working, except...
The one who left first.
His furnace was in the corner, quiet at this time, like a crouching giant monster, opening its mouth waiting for food.
"What about that one?"
The craftsmen around coughed.
Some of them shook their heads, some sighed, and although they did not complain, they all showed deep regret.
Malengu's huge voice sounded again:
"His name is Wachier, he is a spirit craftsman, and he can't take your task."
[Common sense: Spirit craftsman is a branch of the blacksmith industry. The old god Xienbio has disciples who specialize in forging tools. They almost never forge weapons in their lives. ]
"There are many craftsmen with two rings in the workshop. You should be able to see them when you come from the other side of the crack. There are many craftsmen in the mountains. As long as someone can surpass the third ring, he will take over the furnace."
Someone looked up and looked into the distance.
Other craftsmen did not comment on Wachel behind his back. Everyone has different beliefs. They only pursue the peak of their skills.
"If he doesn't forge weapons, he only has one apprenticeship."
"That kid? I have some impression of him. He has good talent. He often comes here to wait for his teacher to go home, but I haven't seen him much recently."
"I heard that he was injured, very seriously, and Wachel is asking for help everywhere."
"Why doesn't he ask us for help? This guy is dumb and a spiritual craftsman. Where does he get the connections and resources to ask for potions?"
Malungu seemed to think of something, and he mentioned it unexpectedly.
"Spiritual craftsmen can forge weapons."
He stamped his feet. The furnace owner has very high authority and can open the reserves of the blacksmiths under his command.
Wachel's booth was very shabby. Among a pile of old materials, there were two pieces of top-grade steel, which were placed in a particularly conspicuous position, but they had not been processed yet.
"He wants to break the oath? This thing must be a weapon commission!"
Everyone is a craftsman, and they can see the purpose of the item at a glance.
Malungu frowned, and his mood seemed to become very heavy. He continued: "The weapons forged by the spirit craftsman are very special, but he will pay a heavy price."
"What kind of disease did Wachel go to this extent to save his apprentice?"
Ken was originally standing outside to listen.
He should not cross the line to ask about the private affairs of the workshop, but suddenly...
[Series of tasks: Iron's heart (I)]
[Progress: 2D]
[Description: Wachel spared no effort to seek medical treatment. If he did not do something, his poor apprentice would die in two days. ]