Arthur's face darkened.
As the orphan of Nukamanda, he was born with a wheat-colored face. At this time, the high temperature squeezed the color of the fat and skin, and after a few moments, it became as black as the Duwa people.
Became, like Wachel.
Arthur knelt on the ground, his back hunched, and breathing became more and more difficult.
He was severely burned all over, but he no longer felt the pain, nor did he resist the flames. Even though his lips were cracked red, his eyes were still fixed on the material, and he tried his best to remember the changes in the forging with his remaining thoughts.
"Has the teacher forged in front of me?"
This question suddenly occurred to Arthur.
...
On the fifth night in the refugee camp, he was hungry and stole food, and his legs were broken in the alley behind the workshop. When he crawled towards the fire in the furnace, an old man was wiping the utensils with fine linen.
Wachel focused on stroking every corner and turned a deaf ear to the orphan.
Arthur lay on the side of the gate, watching the other party work through the gap, without groaning or asking for help, taking this as the last memory of his life.
The artifact was placed in an iron box.
After watching the last step, he fainted completely, and heard footsteps in a trance...
...
"Teacher, look, my war blade made of scraps has cut off all their work. The blacksmiths must punish those arrogant idiots to death. Bah, they dare to call themselves workshop apprentices like this!"
Arthur raised his weapon with a broken blade.
Wachel frowned, used a copper teaspoon to pry it open, and then silently checked the wound of his apprentice.
The ointment of the witch doctor in the North was very wild. Even if the wound was serious, Arthur would not cry, but when the group of elderly apprentices laughed at Wachel for being "useless", he really felt the pain in his heart.
"Teacher, when will you teach me to forge weapons?"
The old and paranoid old man did not refute or scold at this time.
He frowned and sighed deeply.
"Teacher, am I wrong..."
"No, of course not. Your journey is long and wonderful. I just feel a little regretful."
When the giant hand gently stroked his head, Arthur did not understand the weight of the fall, but just felt that he should work harder.
...
Hu——
Arthur put down the forging hammer with trembling hands, and his arms kept shaking.
It was both exhaustion and excitement.
The weird dwarf did not deceive himself. Although this forging method was difficult, it was really amazing. At least no one in the same class of apprentices could surpass it, and there was no example of comparison!
Cheers came from all around the workshop.
The other candidates looked over eagerly.
Mr. Malungu nodded his chin lightly, and the experienced craftsmen were eager to congratulate Wachel.
But his teacher... looked so tired. He opened his mouth and closed his eyes, and his back was so lonely.
Arthur looked natural.
He didn't show off, nor was he in a hurry to be included in the workshop list, but was planning something more distant.
Wachel had already been a three-ring blacksmith.
The next day, he gave up his workstation with his apprentice and moved into the Forge Valley. Only when he got off work would everyone see Arthur accompany his teacher to leave.
Rain or shine, but they rarely talked.
Once upon a time, "becoming famous in the Dua tribe" was the dream of an orphan.
But when Arthur stood in the Marungu workshop, he suddenly felt that the stage could be wider. He wanted the North, and even the Ushua continent, to praise his skills!
As for the teacher, as a spiritual craftsman, he might not understand.
Arthur never thought of explaining, and he learned the technology unscrupulously. He fantasized about his glorious day, and maybe Mr. Wachel could smile for his achievements.
That's enough.
...
Kane untied the armor, and the lining was soaked with sweat.
[Status: Burns 16%]
[Increased fire resistance, willpower, and magic limit. ]
Kane supported Arthur with one hand and used experience points to heal their injuries. Even so, he could not remove the [burning] status.
"Speak, answer me, are you still awake?"
He shouted against the turbulence.
Arthur knelt on the ground and did not answer. His eyes might be blind, but they never closed.
He breathed weakly and seemed to be in a coma, trapped in the revolving lantern of memories and reality...
Sinking repeatedly.
As for Wachel in the distance, his limbs swelled, his muscles were filled with magic, and he had long lost his self-awareness. He turned his body into a hub to maintain the processing of materials by the power of the old gods.
Thunder condensed into a hammer, and the whistling north wind stirred the dark clouds.
A ripple was stretched out, and the surrounding heat waves were blocked out.
Kane's limbs were weak, and he used his arms to support the ground to avoid completely collapsing.
His tongue and lungs were already half-cooked, and he could only rely on experience points to survive.
Arthur had completely turned into a "mummy", with a dark complexion, severe burns, and even his muscles shrunk a lot.
"If he can survive, he will be a very good blacksmith in the future. I heard that you will take him away. You must train him well. I think he has a chance to inherit the ancient furnace."
A loud voice.
Ken didn't need to look back to know that [Malungu] was standing behind him.
At this time, large and small [Iron Edict Rings] were floating around, and both the number and the ability to control the temperature showed the courage that the furnace owner should have.
Ken also noticed the change in the flow rate of experience points.
He tentatively moved his hand away.
Arthur's last bit of health bar instantly fell back, but at the critical moment of life and death, he was protected by some kind of power, and there was only a little left, allowing this body to be reshaped in repeated destruction and find itself in the flames.
"You've already figured it out, I don't need to tell you. That liquid ball is your material."
Malungu crossed his arms.
"Wauchier came to me earlier tonight and said he wanted to take your order."
His blanket-like white hair was now freed from the ring, and covered his body like a thick snow cap. His muscles were knotted and his tendons were bulging, able to withstand the harshest winter in the North.
"I refused. I didn't want to repay him."
Malungu didn't hide it.
He continued, "Wauchier took off the ring and said that his apprentice had grown up, and he wanted to make something good enough for him to learn."
The snowflakes were 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 in it. ]
Wauchier's body began to show damage.
The consequences of the spirit craftsman making weapons are terrible.
From the process, although it is not as direct as the "Winter Mother Sacrifice" where one's life is drained, the longer it takes to transform the power of the old gods with the body, the greater the risk.
"Your sword... may be destroyed."
Malungu breathed heavily.
The ancient furnace was about to be opened, and the most rare drawings of the Duwa tribe were sealed, and many accessories were also taken away to prepare for the "God Forging Day".
Just when the furnace owner was hesitating whether to break into the sacrificial site...
Ken suddenly stood up.
He barely managed to keep his balance, then took a half step forward and threw the two gifts given by the dwarf into the light ball in the air!