Overlord: Start from the Goblin Lair.

Chapter 16 Ironbeard Blacksmith Shop

Perhaps it was because of Sera's reminder, or perhaps it was because this world was originally inhabited by a variety of races. When Ron began to focus on the passers-by around him, he discovered that there were actually many strange humanoid creatures in Fromm.

"There's a pair of cat people living in room 204 next door, there's an elf among the tenants in room 203, and there's a dwarf living in room 206..."

Ivy nonchalantly twirled the key with the 205 nameplate between her fingers. Considering that she had to go buy equipment tomorrow, she naturally wanted to save as much as possible on accommodation.

Anyway, Driver was small, so it was no big deal for the three of them to squeeze in. The only thing that made the half-elf unhappy was that the goblin hunter insisted on letting the big white rat live in as well - she was almost traumatized by rats.

"Can you confirm where they come from? Are they from outside, or are they the natives here?" Ron asked as he walked behind and carefully locked the door.

"I don't know about the others, but the elves must be from outside," Ivy knocked on the surrounding walls, indicating to Ron that the soundproofing was OK and he didn't need to be so careful when speaking. "The elves won't like the environment around Fromm Town."

It is cold in the north, with mountains in the east and Gobi desert in the west. There are very few forests, let alone woods. Even the elves who are most adaptable to human and other races' societies would not choose this place as their settlement.

Ivy's mother is a pure-blooded elf, and her judgment is authoritative enough.

“Ouch, ouch—”

Driver threw his cloak to the ground, and lay on the bed with his big belly, groaning in happiness and pain.

"I'm dying of stuffiness—"

"You deserve it," Ivy snorted, "Who told you to order so much food? And if you drink so much, you'll probably die of overeating!"

If she could really live longer, she and Ron would be truly free.

To be honest, Ivy had thought about taking advantage of this opportunity to kill Driver and put an end to all the goblins. After all, the goblins were not very strong as individuals, and they were even more vulnerable in front of her.

but……

Ivy glanced at Ron, who was struggling to turn Driver over to make the bed, and killed the idea in her heart.

This person might not agree. Besides, if I did something like that, how different would I be from a goblin?
Having to drink raw blood yesterday was already a big step back for her.

Ivy took a deep breath and suppressed the murderous intent in her heart. Fortunately, Ron was a rookie who hadn't even left the company, and Driver was struggling with his bulging belly, so no one noticed Ivy's brief abnormality.

Only Dabai raised his head and twitched his beard slightly.

The whole night was silent. If there was anything noteworthy, it was probably the tabby couple next door who kept rocking the bed at night.

"It's so comfortable!"

The next morning, after Ron and Ivy had washed up, the goblin hunter still stayed in bed and refused to get up - he had never had such a luxurious experience in his life!
And he was sure that even his boss had never received such treatment!

I might as well end my remaining life on this bed——

"Look at what you have accomplished!" Ivy unceremoniously grabbed Driver's foot and lifted him up. "Let's go! Don't forget to put on your cloak!"

"Stupid half-blood." Driver bared his teeth and roared at Ivy, but the half-elf warrior, who was no longer suffering from the pain, would not fall for it. The goblin had to change his clothes reluctantly and follow Ron out of the tavern.

When going downstairs, Ron noticed that Sera's group was gathered at the table where they sat last night, seemingly discussing something. When they saw Ron passing by, they waved over.

Like the shops, churches and taverns, the location of the blacksmith shop was also easy to find. Looking past the two breakfast vendors, the huge furnace at the door had already attracted Ron's attention. However, there was no flame burning in the furnace.

When Ron and the other two approached, a human blacksmith opened his eyes in the rocking chair and looked at the strange guests.

"You seem to be quite busy here," Ron walked in and looked around, "No orders recently?"

"I won't take any orders even if there are any. There's not that much water in town for me to use." The blacksmith had a full beard, and his mustache trembled when he spoke, which looked quite funny.

"I still have some in stock, please take a look. If there is anything you want to buy, I can give you a discount."

Iron blocks cannot be eaten or drunk. If you keep them without selling them, they will just rot in the shop. It is better to sell them as soon as possible and exchange them for coins, which are the most practical things.

"Ivy, you first." Ron made a "please" gesture. Ivy is a warrior, so she will naturally have priority whether it is metal protective gear or weapons.

The lightest chain mail shirt weighed nearly 20 kilograms. Ron felt it was too heavy even with his bare hands, and wearing a metal shell was just asking for trouble.

"How much money do you have left?" Ivy asked quietly. It would be embarrassing if she couldn't pay later.

"There are about thirty gold coins left."

Ron took out his purse and was about to count the money when the blacksmith over there spoke first - even though he didn't even look over here.

Ron counted the coins himself in disbelief, and after converting the silver and copper coins into gold coins, he found that there were indeed about thirty gold coins.

"How did you know?"

"My family has been blacksmiths since my grandfather's generation. My father is also a blacksmith, and I started helping out when I was fourteen. It has been thirty years now." The blacksmith seemed to enjoy hearing people ask this question.

"Don't mention that you have coins in there. Even if there are pieces of iron mixed in, it won't affect what I hear."

"It seems like your business here is pretty good," Ivy walked among the various equipment, occasionally flicking the armor with her fingers and listening to the sound it made, "The quality is really good."

"That's right!" The blacksmith was very proud. "My grandfather was once an apprentice to a dwarf blacksmith. In the hands of that dwarf, a real magic item was once produced!"

“Although my family doesn’t have that kind of talent, it’s still easy to forge ordinary equipment into something sturdy and reliable—even the outlaws in the West know about the Ironbeard Blacksmith Shop in Frome!”

"That's really famous - how did you sell this one?"

Ivy took down a breastplate from the shelf. It was made of rolled metal plates, with the front and back halves connected by rings and hinges.

"Two hundred gold coins, no bargaining, you can't afford it." The blacksmith took a glance and said immediately.

"You have a good eye, but this is my masterpiece. I put a lot of effort into it. You'd better not take it."

Ivy laughed, and Ron couldn't tell what emotion was in her voice. Shock? Surprise? Or anger?
"That's not right, Boss. This is engraved with a cape-shaped double lion emblem. Look at me and say it again."

The half-elf warrior walked up to the blacksmith carrying the breastplate, his face gloomy and his voice raised several degrees:
"Did you make this armor engraved with the emblem of the Elven Hailan Empire?!"

(End of this chapter)