Arthur lay on his side.
He was quiet and didn't struggle like usual.
Wachler's heart sank. He walked quickly towards his apprentice. No matter if he was biting or going crazy, as long as he could breathe, it was a good thing.
"I... it hurts. Who are you? Where is my teacher?"
A muffled groan came from the room, and the sound of protective gear and chains being thrown on the ground.
[Series of tasks: Iron's Heart (I)]
[Status: Completed]
Ken was a little confused.
According to previous tasks, the first thing is to gain experience points, and then get material rewards, or some promotions and help according to the content of the task.
Why is there nothing?
This is the first time I have received a [series of tasks]. This thing may have to be completed in full before it can be settled.
Where is the follow-up?
Ken turned his head and saw the excited blacksmith, so he took the initiative to give up the space.
"Arthur, how do you feel? Can you talk?"
"Teacher..."
Wauchier walked up to his apprentice and could see that this paranoid old man was cold on the outside but warm on the inside.
Ken observed for a while: Arthur was a little confused, and the reason for his weakness was that he had not eaten properly during the days of infection, but his body was fine.
This was the first case of hunter-gatherer he had treated.
He turned and left, leaving the space for the master and apprentice, and walked down the stairs to join in the research of various tools.
The chanter made black tea.
Ken and Kuima talked about recruiting refugees.
The slums of the Dua tribe were full. Although Santonkaya was not well-known, as long as food and protection were provided, it would still attract many people.
They were going to return to [Ke'e], gather the team, and then head to the two villages below.
Food was a small problem, but the size of the army was limited, and the number of refugees must be strictly controlled. After discussion, it was decided that recruiting a hundred people would be enough.
Kuima mentioned another interesting thing.
Fighting power can be bought from slave traders. They are captives after the conflict, survivors of massacres and looting...
Those who can pay the ransom have been taken away, and the rest are about to be auctioned.
"How can they be willing?"
"Various means," Kuima paused. "For ordinary laborers, they are usually fed poison, and they can only be bought as slaves. For those who can fight with weapons, there are special sorcerers in the slave traders who are responsible for controlling them so that they cannot resist the orders of their employers."
Ken's fingers tapped the table lightly.
[Recruiting slaves can quickly obtain immediate combat power, but their loyalty is difficult to guarantee, and the core cohesion of the team will be reduced. ]
Lack of people, and also lack of money.
"The spoils seized from the bandits, those that cannot be identified are kept, and all those that we don't need are taken to the rack to be thrown away. We can buy as many people as we can get in exchange for money."
Kuima nodded. There are quite a lot of spoils in the camp, and there are also a batch in Ke'e Village.
Dong, Dong, Dong.
Footsteps came from the rooftop, and the discussion slowly died down.
The blacksmith carried his apprentice who had just recovered from a serious illness to the front hall, and he awkwardly expressed his gratitude to everyone.
The weak Arthur also bowed.
He was injured and couldn't walk freely, but his life was definitely saved.
Kuima stood by the wall and glanced at Zhan Jing silently.
He knew that Mr. Ken could completely treat this minor injury, but since he didn't, there must be other considerations, in addition to being cautious, perhaps he didn't trust him enough.
Ken never spoke. He poured boiling water into the cup, and the steam slowly rose, making the room a little awkward.
"I beg you, don't take him to the southern border."
Wachier's body gradually tensed up, but he still tried to explain his reasons:
"The village where Arthur was born was bloodbathed by the troops from the southern border. War is always out of one's control. No one can control their greed. Weapons are the cruelest tools. I don't want Arthur to be drowned by hatred..."
Kane did not hold the cup, but took off his gloves and exposed his right arm. This was the second time he showed his identity to others today.
Arthur didn't see clearly, but Wachier was already horrified.
"You, are you a war flag?"
"Yes, Santonkaya."
The rider answered first.
They are pure and authentic northerners, with totems and animal bones, straight backs, and respectfully standing behind Ken, as if they were the most powerful evidence.
"When the iron cavalry is stained with the blood of your compatriots,"
Kane put his ten fingers together and supported his chin. His voice was calm and his eagle-like eyes passed through the room.
Arthur raised his head and looked at him, like a prey being pinned to death.
"Those who fought back in the tribe, those who stood in front of you, think about it, are the weapons in their hands also full of sin?"
Arthur's breathing became rapid.
Kane moved away his suffocating gaze and turned to Wachel.
"I won't leave the North. My blacksmith shop needs manpower. How much resources will the workshop invest in apprentices? My entire tribe is developing, and all materials will fall into Arthur's hands. Those things will allow him to grow as quickly as possible."
The blacksmith's brows were locked, and craftsmen all pursued the pinnacle of technology.
His awkward position in the workshop would indeed limit the apprentice's talent.
"Hey, the most important thing is..."
Kane paused, and instantly drew out his weapon. A cold light flashed, and the sound of the steel sword being unsheathed made people's scalps numb.
Wachel was panicked at first, and then wanted to stop it.
When he approached the weapon, his face was full of disgust, which was a disgust engraved in his bones.
The tip of the sword was hanging at the tip of Arthur's nose.
The young workshop apprentice was not afraid. He held his breath and stared at the sharp edge of the blade, revealing his concentration and scrutiny.
Ken waved the weapon twice in the air and retracted it.
"You are a spiritual craftsman," he said in a flat tone. "But your apprentice is a talented blacksmith."
The room returned to silence.
Arthur lowered his head and said nothing.
"I know."
Wachler relaxed.
This matter was not a secret. He was also present when Arthur passed the workshop exam, but being told about his knot by a stranger still made him look much older in an instant.
"So, now it's whether he is willing."
Ken stood up and prepared to leave, leaving them enough time to consider. Although he acted very domineering, he would not force anyone.
Before leaving, he turned around and added.
"The matter of the hunter is quite sensitive, I don't want it to be disclosed. Of course, if someone uses tough means to force you, you can say... that you took a very rare potion."
Arthur nodded, looking very obedient.
Wacher was very tight-lipped, but he was more concerned about the second half of the sentence. He realized in an instant that the other party was afraid that Ivan would seek revenge and asked for information in a despicable way.
Kane led the team out of the house.
It was dark, and several people left the village along the original route and walked towards the camp.
People's hearts are unpredictable, and exposing the bottom card will eventually make people uneasy. The worst plan is to leave after finishing the business, and at most take time to come to the Duwa tribe to get the sword in half a year.