Wizard: Starting with Dealing with Magical Plants

Chapter 287 Bruno the Dwarf

The night in the sunken town had no clear end.

Luo Lin sat cross-legged on the wooden bed covered with thick animal hides, the warm luster of the milky white pebble in his palm reflecting his calm eyes.

The medicinal power, like a gentle, warm current, methodically washed away the last stubborn blockages and hidden injuries deep within the body, guided by [Quiet Dust Star].

Outside the window, the faint sound of the eternal dripping of water from the swamp and the indistinct noise in the distance could be heard, but these sounds seemed to be separated by a thick layer of frosted glass, unable to penetrate this tranquil realm carefully maintained by his spiritual power.

Ellie curled up on another narrow bed, her breathing even and deep.

The days of running around and the stress had exhausted her, and now she could finally drift off to sleep in a relatively safe environment.

Even in her sleep, her hand unconsciously gripped the corner of the blanket, and her brows furrowed slightly.

Broken Feather and Blue Feather snuggled together on a dry cattail mat in the corner of the room, which Ellie had specially prepared for them.

The two rainbow finches recovered from their injuries faster than expected, and their feathers regained their lustrous sheen. However, the injured wing with the broken feather would occasionally tremble slightly and unnaturally.

Baha crouched in the shadow of the beam above the door, its six eyes half-open, maintaining the faint spiritual connection between the wizard and his magical creature. No unusual movement near the door could escape its perception.

The star power circulated repeatedly within his body. With each complete cycle, he could feel that the invisible barrier between the early and middle stages of the second ring seemed to have been washed away and thinned out slightly.

The 31% progress has long been left far behind; the current level is firmly at 39%, and it is steadily advancing towards the critical point of 40%.

This is not a forced ascent through fortuitous encounters or external forces, but rather a natural accumulation that comes from being squeezed on the brink of life and death time and time again, gaining a deeper understanding of the rules, and constantly repairing and adapting to the body itself.

The obscure descriptions of the nature of energy and the structure of rules in Master Veranica's notebook became increasingly clear in her mind at this moment, accompanied by the unique, contemplative perspective of [Quiet Dust Star].

Those words are no longer just simple knowledge, but have been transformed into a real rhythm that can be touched and guided.

Time slipped away quietly as I focused on healing and self-cultivation.

After an unknown amount of time, when Luo Lin felt a slight swelling sensation in his body and the last bit of pain in his internal organs had completely dissipated, he slowly withdrew his star power and opened his eyes.

The weariness in his eyes vanished, replaced by a deep-sea tranquility.

With every move, the sluggishness and weakness caused by his serious injury had largely disappeared. Although he was still far from his peak condition, he had at least recovered more than 70% of his combat power.

He gently moved the five fingers of his right hand, and the knuckles made a slight "click" sound, as flexible as ever.

The most gruesome wound on his right arm was now just a pinkish, fresh scar, still somewhat hard to the touch, but it no longer affected his ability to exert force.

it's time.

Rowling's gaze shifted to the several dark metal fragments on the table that he had traded with the goblin stall owner.

He got up and walked over, picked up the largest piece, and ran his fingertips over the almost smooth, coldly ordered lines.

I did not attempt to parse it immediately.

He walked to the door and conveyed the message "stay vigilant" to Bach on the beam.

Baha responded with a low, hoarse voice, and six eyes simultaneously lit up with a faint light in the shadows.

Then, Rowling returned to the table and sat down, placing the metal fragments flat in his palm and closing his eyes.

The power of [Quiet Dust Star] was no longer used for healing, but instead transformed into countless extremely subtle sensory tendrils, like the most patient archaeologist, slowly seeping into the cold and hard internal structure of the fragments.

The patterns have long been worn away, and the energy is almost depleted.

But the imprint left by order itself, even after a long period of time, still retains a trace that is difficult to completely erase.

Like the marks on a boulder eroded by wind and rain over millions of years, it may appear blurry at first glance, but when your fingertips touch it and move along the finest indentation, you can still vaguely trace the original lines.

Rolin's perception was his most acute fingertips.

He abandoned all preconceived judgments and simply tried to feel the "texture," "rhythm," and "structural tendency" of the extremely faint, almost integrated energy residue inside the fragments.

Cold — High efficiency — Pursuing absolute functionality — The arrangement of patterns follows a certain extreme geometric aesthetic. Achieving the most stable structural support with minimal energy consumption — Compared with the maintainers and adjudicators encountered later, the order within these fragments is more ancient and rigid, lacking the smoothness and — cold killing intent that the later ones seem to have been infused with a higher level of logic and purpose.

This appears to be an earlier creation. Perhaps it belongs to a different stage of development in the observer civilization, or simply a basic unit used for different purposes.

A vague outline gradually formed in Luo Lin's mind.

He withdrew his senses from the fragments, without attempting to activate or simulate the remaining fluctuations of order.

That's too dangerous, especially if the wrist markings haven't been removed.

"At least I know that they are not monolithic; they have their own development paths and different types," Rolin muttered to himself, carefully putting away the fragments.

This information may seem useless at present, but it may become a clue to understanding the opponent or even finding weaknesses at some crucial moment in the future.

The sounds coming from outside the window seemed to have changed.

In the distance, towards the open space known as the free market, the noise had noticeably increased, interspersed with short shouts and the clanging of metal.

The daylight seemed to brighten a bit, signifying the start of "daytime" for the sunken town.

Rowling walked to Ellie's bedside and gently patted her shoulder.

Ellie woke up immediately, a flicker of alertness in her eyes. She relaxed only after recognizing Rowling, rubbing her eyes as she sat up. "Mr. Rowling? You—you look much better!"

"Hmm. Let's get ready and go for a walk," said Rowling. "Let's go to the market and visit that dwarf blacksmith Morpheus mentioned."

Ellie nodded quickly and tidied her clothes and hair.

The two changed into inconspicuous gray cloaks and covered their mouths and noses.

This time, Rowling also brought two rainbow finches, letting them perch on his shoulder.

In the sunken town, having a strange magical pet doesn't attract much attention.

Baha remained in the room to keep watch, while the two of them went out.

The corridor was filled with the musty smell and cheap tobacco odor characteristic of the old mole's dwelling.

Go down to the first-floor hall, and you'll see the old mole himself dozing on the counter, his bulbous nose emitting soft snores.

A few early risers huddled in a corner, talking in hushed tones over their murky drinks. When they caught sight of Luo Lin and his companion coming down, their gazes lingered on them briefly before shifting away indifferently.

Stepping out of my shelter, I was greeted by a wave of damp, chilly air.

There were many more pedestrians on the street than last night, making it feel more crowded.

Various strange races and costumes are mixed together, forming a bizarre and wonderful picture.

Luo Lin didn't linger at the street stalls, and headed straight for the relatively "formal" shop area at the foot of the western cliff.

According to the old mole's description, the Rust and Spark Blacksmith Shop should be located in that area.

After passing through several muddy side roads and around a pile of unidentified garbage emitting a pungent smell, a row of low stone houses built against the rock wall came into view.

These stone houses are noticeably more orderly than other buildings in the town, with various, yet equally rugged and straightforward, signs hanging at their entrances.

Soon, Rowling found his target.

The stone house was larger than the houses on either side, and a thick iron plaque with countless black spots burned into its edges hung at the entrance. It was crookedly engraved with rust and sparks in dwarven runes and common language.

The heavy iron door was ajar, from which came clear and rhythmic knocking sounds, the whooshing of the furnace fire, and the hissing of metal being quenched.

Before even entering, a wave of heat, mixed with the complex smells of metal, coal, grease, and sweat, wafted out.

Luo Lin pushed open the door and entered.

The interior space is wider than it appears from the outside, making it look more like a small workshop.

On the left is a huge furnace that blazes fiercely, almost taking up the entire wall, and the intense heat of the fire illuminates half of the room in a fiery red.

On the right is a cluttered workbench and shelf filled with various tools, semi-finished products and metal raw materials.

In the central open space, a short, stocky figure with a bare upper body, muscles bulging like old tree roots, and a thick red beard was wielding a heavy iron hammer almost as tall as himself, slamming it hard onto a piece of red-hot metal blank on an anvil.

Each hammer blow sent up a shower of sparks and produced a deafening roar, making the entire ground seem to tremble.

The dwarf was completely absorbed in his work and did not react to the arrival of Rowling and his companion.

His bronze skin was covered in sweat and oil, as well as old burns and scratches. His right eye wore a single crystal lens secured with a rough brass ring, behind which his eye was sharp as an eagle's.

Roland didn't make a sound to disturb them, standing quietly near the doorway, observing the dwarves' forging process.

It was not just a display of power; the point, angle, and force of each hammer blow contained a unique rhythm. The metal blank under his hammer was like a living clay, rapidly changing shape, and the internal structure seemed to be constantly folded, compacted, and purified by the hammer blows.

Ellie's eyes were drawn to several finished pieces displayed on a shelf next to the furnace.

These were not ordinary swords and armor, but rather some strangely shaped metal components, wrist guards inlaid with complex rune lines, and even the remains of a palm-sized, intricately structured metal spider that emitted faint magical fluctuations.

It looked very different from the maintainers that Rolin had encountered before, but it had the same cold, inhuman quality.

After about ten minutes, the dwarf finally completed the initial shaping of the blank, picked it up, and immersed it in a stone trough filled with a dark, viscous liquid.

"laugh!"

Thick white steam rose up, accompanied by a pungent odor.

The dwarf then took out the partially formed metal strip and placed it on a shelf to cool. He then grabbed the dirty towel draped around his neck, wiped the sweat from his face haphazardly, turned around, and stared unceremoniously at Rowling and Ellie through his crystal lens with his single eye.

"A new face." The dwarf's voice was rough and hoarse, like two pieces of pig iron rubbing together. "Buying something, fixing something, or looking for trouble? Old Man Bruno is in a sore mood right now, so let's get to the point."

"The Morpheus administrator suggested I come to you," Rowling said calmly, taking out the several dark metal fragments from his pocket. "Take a look at these; perhaps you can tell me something."

Upon hearing Morpheus's name, the dwarf Bruno's thick eyebrows twitched. He took the fragment, brought his one eye close to the lens, and carefully traced the patterns with his rough fingers. He then picked up a small magnifying glass with tiny sapphire fragments inlaid at the tip and examined the fragment repeatedly.

After a moment, he put down the magnifying glass and snorted, "Where did you dig this out of? The energy is almost gone, and the patterns are worn away."

"But you recognize it, don't you?" Rowling said.

Bruno glanced at him, walked to the workbench, picked up a brass disc engraved with intricate runes, and placed a fragment in the center of the disc.

He muttered a few strangely sung incantations in a low voice, his fingertips quickly tracing the runes on the edge of the disc.