The morning wind came from the shore of Lake Vigima, with a little coldness and wetness brushing across the pale cheeks of the witch hunter.

Roy and Resor leaned outside the gate of the blacksmith shop, enjoying the grilled fish cake breakfast comfortably. They flowed quietly on the inner city river to their left. The early pedestrians on the spacious and tidy street in front of them rushed to the direction of the market to start their day's purchase.

The blacksmith shop door behind the two was half closed, and no sound was heard quietly.

Last night, Berenkael and Resor fell into a hangover after drinking. However, after sleeping for less than three hours, they got up early in the morning and took two witch hunters to rent the blacksmith shop along the river.

The alcohol-filled Berenkall began to make a blacksmith, emphasizing the need for a quiet casting environment and drove the two prepared assistants out of the blacksmith shop.

"Is this guy reliable?"

Roy occasionally felt pained by the huge expenses.

"Okay, little devil!" Resor said angrily, "Beliankale is not an ordinary blacksmith on the street. With his master-level forging ability, he can have a place even in the castles of some great nobles. It is already a great favor for him to help two witch hunters build weapons. As for the high price, it is not a problem for drinking. Who has no quirks for first-class people? You should show corresponding respect to him."

"What are you saying about the casting master?" After seeing the dwarfs with blacksmiths per capita, Roy developed some wrong perceptions.

"What do you think?" Resault explained, "Some fields can not be achieved through sweat and experience, but also require talent. A talented blacksmith has an extraordinary intuition in controlling certain details during the forging process. It is easier for a very talented blacksmith to forge excellent weapons. This part is that no matter how hard a blacksmith works, it cannot be compensated."

"Resor, it seems that you are a talentless blacksmith. You haven't become a forging master for more than eighty years."

“…”

"Okay, I'm not kidding. Since Master Berenkar can live a good life with the nobles, why should he live in a down-and-out and miserable life?"

"Because he was a witch hunter..." Resor raised his head, and the warm yellow sun emerged from the horizon in his sight. "Even if he was unwilling to admit, there were more or less wandering elements in his nature."

"It is also possible that the nobles don't like him."

Roy thought about it and added a more artistic sentence to sum it up, "Drifting is the romance of the witch hunter... Well, in the future, Dandelion has to write this sentence into the poem."

"Fighting with the water ghost is the romance of the witch hunter." Reso said quietly behind him, "Remember to add this."

...

A slight "sizzling" sound suddenly came from the half-closed door. Roy couldn't help but poke his head into the crack of the door and secretly looked at it. As he imagined, under the strong flames of the furnace in the blacksmith shop, there should be a muscular man with golden sweat flashing light, waving his hammer hard.

Unfortunately, no.

Berenkare was bent down and standing in front of the square table, holding something on the table with his arms, gently drawing two beautiful straight lines from top to bottom like pulling the lake water. He could vaguely see some sticky gray mud stains on his sleeve. On his right hand, there was a small shovel covered with mud. The shovel handle was longer, but the surface of the shovel was like a brick with an arc-shaped upper end.

"What is he doing?" Roy wondered, "Why did the blacksmith master do the work of bricklayer?"

"You can say this to show that you are a thorough layman..." Reso's shiny bald head emerged from Roy's hair. "Do you think that casting a good weapon requires constant banging? Berenkare is a casting mold for weapons."

"Casting mold?" Roy's eyebrows were squeezed into a ball. He really didn't know much about forging. He was more capable of killing monsters, alchemy, and taming animals.

"This mold is used to shape weapons. The final weapon is a sword, a dagger, and a gun. After the special soil is kneaded into a mold, it needs to be put into the kiln next to it to dry."

Roy suddenly realized that this was probably somewhat similar to firing pottery.

"The mold is burned, and the next step is to put the sword casting material into the crucible in proportion to melt and remove impurities, and then cast it into the mold. After cooling down, it will form the most primitive sword embryo."

"The Snake Sword Double Blade face carved with patterns and grooves that are useful for inspiration of magic, and also requires the blacksmith's exquisite craftsmanship to carve the corresponding patterns at the bottom of the casting mold first."

"The steel sword cast in the mold is only an embryo with a rough surface. After being taken out of the mold, further scraping and thinking is required to make its surface smoother."

"Put it in accessories, such as turquoise, glazed glass, sword grid, sword hilt."

"Finally, the formed Snake Sword needs to sharpen the blade once, using grinding stone and water to make its blade sharp."

In this way, Neibaliangall, the blacksmith shop, focused on shaping the molds. He made it very slowly and carefully. As he said before, it was a long process.

Outside the blacksmith shop, Resor combined the movements and rhythms of Liberiangall in the shop, and personally demonstrated to teach the basic knowledge of young people's ironwork. He occasionally interrogated and evaluated the contents of "Biotheory" and acted as a bodyguard.

A light yellow flame as big as a petal bounced back and forth between the boy's five fingers flexibly. It was like magic. In fact, the temperature was not high, and it was not even as good as the magic tricks of the warlock. It was only used to fight with smoke.

This is the magic exercise method that Roy figured out after awakening the ancient blood. It takes only five magic points to last for a quarter of an hour. The exercise effect is better than simply releasing the magic seal. If you persist in the high-ranking official period, you will probably reach lv2 next year.

Consume outside the blacksmith shop during the day.

At night, Roy entered Vigima's vast wilderness alone, honing his swordsmanship, crossbow shooting, magic seals, and familiar with flashing skills. He worked hard to connect several abilities to form a stable combat system.

By the way, you can use the traps and field knowledge taught by Seret to hunt and gain more than ten experiences a day.

After training, he contacted the mount "Golphin" far away in Sintra through telepathy and cared about the little guy's daily life. The little griffin is half a year old, has an IQ of four or five human children, and can express his emotions such as happiness, anger, hunger, anxiety, etc. to his master.

Its size becomes larger, equivalent to an adult pony, and continuing to be in a cage will undoubtedly affect growth and development.

"In a few days, find a hidden place outside Vigima to summon Golfin." Roy stared at the night sky and fell into meditation.

"It's better to think of a way to disguise it, otherwise it will be too inconvenient to keep it with you."

The days of fulfillment always pass quickly, and a week passed in the blink of an eye.

During this period, Berenkar showed amazing professional qualities. After a meal every morning, he entered the blacksmith shop and forged it selflessly, without eating or drinking. He did not give up his work until late at night. He even slept in the blacksmith shop. He had to control the changes in the castings at all times.

In just one week, his hair became greasy and scattered, his chin grew a bunch of sloppy stubble, his eyes were covered with blood, but his spirit was extremely excited - the sword embryos of the Snake School Steel Sword and Silver Sword had already formed, and he was still not able to decorate and sharpen the blade.

"Are the casting masters so crazy?" Roy couldn't help but admire this drunkard now. According to his crazy work intensity, if he had been replaced by an ordinary person, even if he was cast into a sword, he would not be able to escape a serious illness in the end.

"A person who becomes a master in a certain field must be paranoid and pathological." Resault said sincerely. Both of them thought that time would go smoothly and no more troubles would arise.

But trouble finally came to the door.

On the eighth day, a man with disheveled hair hummed a strange little song and came to the blacksmith shop.
Chapter completed!