Starting with the goblin extermination

Chapter 116 Enchantment, Change, Love

Arlando 3563, Riverwood, Great Hammer Blacksmith Shop.

Every blacksmith likes to count how many times they've hammered. Before quenching, or during breaks in forging, they might even jot down the number of strikes. Blacksmiths always like to record their work and then improve their skills, just like Dalark now, striking the red-hot iron block in front of him and asking himself, "How many times have I struck it now?"

The East End is the most bustling area of ​​Riverwood. Like other dwarven blacksmith shops scattered throughout the East End, the [Giant Hammer Blacksmith Shop]...

It is both rough and monotonous, yet it reveals the simplicity and reliability inherent in the dwarfs.

Its ground was paved with durable black-gray flagstones, just like the roads in the western district, but the walls were made of thick stone bricks, clean and neat. The entire blacksmith shop was spacious and bright, in line with the architectural aesthetics of the dwarves. Only in this way could there be enough space to put down heavy armor, deadly weapons, and the most conspicuous huge warhammer.

That wasn't a weapon forged by Dalark, but it still belonged to him; in the past, he had wielded that hammer more than once to smash the heads of his enemies.

Before arriving in Riverwood, Dalark never imagined he would spend twenty years in a small border town, especially a run-down place like Riverwood. Like most people in Eyrie, he thought that places outside the capital were all backwaters, lacking high-purity black iron, strong bitter snake wine, and those voluptuous dwarven brewesses with breasts bigger than wine barrels.

However, after spending some time there, his opinion changed.

He met his wife.

"Three hundred and sixty-two times."

Dadak wrote down the number of taps, grabbed a rag to wipe the sweat from his face, and then remembered that sentence.

"Love is like a warm breeze sweeping across an icy plain; it can make even rocks sprout green shoots."

Dallak used to hate this proverb from the White Wave Province the most, always finding it both greasy and childish.

While he was still serving in the Knights, he always mercilessly mocked those idiots who laid down their warhammers for women, firmly believing that true romance for men only existed in blood and strong liquor.

Contempt leads to negligence, and perhaps that's why when that woman was bandaging his wounds with tears in her eyes and gritting her teeth as she said "I love you," his knees buckled instantly as if he had been shot by an arrow.

To hell with blood and liquor! Even the toughest man needs a warm and cozy home.

Before I knew it, my son was already seventeen.

The furnace roared, illuminating the blacksmith's shop. Baron, dressed in black chainmail, sheathed the short sword his father had just sharpened and swallowed the last piece of jerky from his plate.

His mouth and nose resembled his mother's, while his hair and eyes were the same dark color as his father's. For a dwarf, he was tall and strong, and anyone would have thought he was good material to be a warrior.

"Dad! I'm finished eating! Uncle Thorin said there's a big deal today, I'm going to the guild now!"

"Screw your big business! You better watch out!"

Without turning his head, Dalark roared in a rough voice.

"If you dare come back with even a single hair missing before dark, I'll smash that old bastard's uncle's legs with a hammer! You hear me?!"

As he cursed and swore, Dalark gripped the crimson sword and plunged it fiercely into the liquid that had been prepared beforehand.

Sizzle—

Thick white steam rose, and after a moment, Dalark slowly drew his longsword. As he wiped away the last bit of charred grime, the silver blade, as clear as autumn water, was revealed.

"Let's go!"

As Baron's voice faded away, Dalark raised his longsword, carefully examining the perfect patterns on it.

Finally, he nodded in satisfaction.

Just then.

boom.

The sound of the door being pushed open rang out again.

"What the hell did you forget again? Always so forgetful, just like your mother!"

Dallak walked out cursing, about to yell at his son, but found that the person standing outside was not his son who had returned, but Logan carrying a huge long bundle, and his little lover.

Dallak was taken aback at first, then smiled and patted Logan's arm hard.

"Hey! Logan, what's that wind blowing today?"

His eyes swept quickly over Logan. Looking at Logan's intact chainmail and Elsa's own prized creation, Darlach muttered to himself, trying to figure out Logan's purpose for today.

His gaze then fell on the long, rectangular package behind Logan, and his brows furrowed instantly.

Such a long monster material...

Holy crap! Seriously?

"What's that thing you're carrying on your back?" Dalark patted the package with an incredulous tone. He probably knew the answer, but he still wanted to see it with his own eyes.

Logan didn't waste any words and immediately unpacked the package.

Then, a pair of enormous blades exuding a deadly aura appeared instantly before Dalark's eyes.

The blades, carved entirely from jade, shimmered with an emerald sheen in the blacksmith's firelight. The inner edges of the blades were covered with densely packed, barbed serrations that gleamed softly. Despite their considerable length and thickness, they possessed a light and agile quality.

Dalark's eyes widened instantly.

Gudong.

The old dwarf swallowed hard. It wasn't the first time he'd seen the giant mantis's blade, but his blacksmith's instincts still made him nervous about what was about to happen.

Dallak looked at Logan, who smiled and nodded, crossing his arms.

He watched Dalark with great interest, eager to hear what foul language the hot-tempered dwarf would utter next. After all, this wasn't the first time Logan had shocked the old man.

But surprisingly, Dalark didn't say anything.

He walked slowly toward Logan, and under Logan's questioning gaze, suddenly drew the Frostwolf Standard Longsword from his waist!

Immediately afterwards, he grabbed the two giant mantis blades from the counter and ran wildly into the house!

Bang-!!

He slammed the door shut, and the next second, the roar of the bellows and the forge filled the room.

"You two stay outside and wait for me! Find yourselves a place to sit! And nobody the hell are coming in to bother me!!!"

Dalark's excited roar pierced through the wooden door.

Outside the door, Logan and Elsa stood facing each other, looking completely bewildered in front of the counter.

Luo had assumed that enchanting would take at least a few days.

Unexpectedly, after seeing the giant mantis's blade, the old dwarf abandoned the shop altogether. He was like a customer who had been holding back for decades and had finally met a prostitute. He wanted to finish it off in one go!

He wasn't worried about anything being missing from the store.

Logan looked at the tightly closed door with a sense of helplessness.

Forget it.

Seeing this, Logan didn't dare to leave easily.

just wait.

The two men first helped Dalak close the door, and then hung up the wooden sign outside that read "Closed, Get Out".

Now only the two of them remain in the entire blacksmith shop.

Logan turned to look at Elsa beside him, the half-elf girl looking up at him.

Waiting is always boring. What should I do to pass the time?

Before Logan could figure it out, Elsa gently hugged his arm, a sly glint in her light blue eyes.

She stole a glance at Dallak's tightly closed door. Then, she playfully pouted her rosy lips at Logan.

Well, I'll think about what to do next later.

Logan unceremoniously took the constantly demanding little mouth into his mouth, skillfully pried open the teeth, and slowly sucked the sweet saliva.

The thought of Darlak toiling away in the blacksmithing while they were out doing bad things filled Logan with a mixture of guilt and pleasure, causing him to unconsciously tighten his grip on Elsa's waist.

After a long while, until Elsa was out of breath and let out a soft sob, Logan reluctantly released her.

He finally figured out what to do next.

The two walked leisurely through the blacksmith shop, their fingers intertwined, the air thick with the smells of steel and leather.

To be honest, I've been either on missions or training lately, so it's been a long time since Elsa and I have had a chance to enjoy some leisure time together.

Today, although the location is in the blacksmith's shop in Dalark, and the old dwarf inside is making a loud, frantic hammering noise, at this moment, there is only himself and Elsa in this enclosed space.

Isn't this a unique and unconventional date?

Inside the blacksmith's shop, the two looked around at the dazzling array of cold armor and deadly weapons, occasionally stopping to touch the cold steel and brandish the weapons they had never used before.

This reminded Logan of his past life when he accompanied women shopping. But his feelings were completely different. The boredom and exhaustion he felt carrying bags in his past life were gone. Now, walking with Elsa through these cold steel malls, he felt relaxed and happy.

"Logan, look at this."

Elsa released his hand, walked to a display shelf in the corner, and took down a heavy horned helmet with a dwarven style.

She slipped the helmet, which was clearly too big for her, onto her head. The oversized helmet instantly covered most of her face, leaving only her bright blue eyes visible. Combined with her slender and flexible figure, she looked both comical and adorable.

Logan chuckled. He also tore a horned helmet off the shelf and put it on his head.

Then, two heads wearing comical bull-horned helmets pressed together in an extremely childish manner, gently colliding with each other through the cold steel with a soft "thump."

They were playing some childish game, but both of them felt sweet about their childish behavior.

They always want to stick together, and once they do, they always do silly things that they wouldn't normally do.

Did she change him, or did he change her?

Or both.

"Love is like a warm breeze sweeping across an icy plain; it can make even rocks sprout green shoots."

Elsa remembered this proverb from the province of White Waves.

She chuckled softly and removed their helmets.

Then she tilted her head back slightly, gently cupped Logan's face in her hands, and placed a series of light and lingering kisses on it.

She always wanted to stick to him, like a fish that couldn't live without water.

The high temperature of the forge seeped out through the cracks in the door, warming the hall. The two of them leaned lazily against a display rack full of helmets and gauntlets, quietly enjoying a moment of peace and a sweet kiss.

Time flies.

at last.

boom!

The wooden door was kicked open without warning!

Logan was holding Elsa's hand as he helped her take off a stainless steel arm guard for her to try on.

Hearing the noise, he turned his head sharply.

Dalak, covered in sweat and with a tuft of his beard singed, stood panting in the doorway.

His grime-covered face betrayed his exhaustion, but his eyes shone with an alarming brightness.

The old dwarf didn't say a word, he just breathed heavily.

But Logan had already seen the weapon he was gripping tightly in his hand.

It was a familiar longsword.

The Frostwolf standard longsword—no, it should have a new name now.