Star Forge Titan

Outside the barrier made of transparent glass, the scorching desert sun rises slowly. After the night leaves, the Sand Night Palace is shrouded in bright sunshine, but people still cannot feel any warmth.

In the deserted Glass Pavilion, the last words disappeared into nothingness.

On the other side, Alvin was sitting in front of a breakfast shop.

After practicing all night last night, he already had a general understanding of his new abilities and was now planning to have breakfast before returning to the Free Fist base.

Not sleeping for a night is nothing to Alvin now. In fact, this is also a common phenomenon among warriors. Their physical fitness is much stronger than that of spellcasters who are also extraordinary, and their energy alone is several times higher.

If necessary, warriors with strong bodies can fight for days without sleep. For conventional armies composed of ordinary people, they are as terrifying as meat grinders on the battlefield.

On the contrary, the battles between extraordinary people are often decided in a very short time. After all, both sides have the ability to break through the opponent's defense.

Unless the gap between them is very small, the duration of the battle will be extended to a degree that is unimaginable for ordinary people.

As I was thinking about it, a cautious voice came from the side.

"Sir, your sugarcane juice."

Alvin looked up and saw a little girl, probably less than ten years old, bringing him a large glass of sugarcane juice.

In the trading city-state of Ismailia, besides various spices, sugar is also a major local product. Consequently, sugarcane is widely cultivated in the nearby oases, and sugarcane juice is very affordable.

This crop can be eaten as fruit or boiled to make sugar, and the remaining residue can be used as fuel or made into livestock feed. Of course, there were also "thrifty" slave owners who gave the remaining sugarcane residue to the slaves as food.

"Thank you." Alvin took the ceramic cup filled with sugarcane juice and handed it to the other party.

Then he saw the wheat-skinned child give him an exceptionally bright smile, then turn around and run back to his parents to continue helping make breakfast.

Unlike the largest denomination gold sand, these copper coins are called "Deben" by the locals. The front is printed with a pattern of desert lizards, a common animal in the silent desert, and the back is a relief of a scale with elements of the Ennead faith. The overall look is a bit old.

The reason is quite simple. The vast majority of copper coins in circulation today were not minted by the Witch-King, but are general equivalents issued by the now-extinct ancient desert dynasties.

Recalling the history of the desert area that she had heard from Heidi, the child who had just run away turned back, holding a wooden tray on her head, which contained a large breakfast in the traditional style of desert residents.

The food in this breakfast shop is not expensive, but the quantity is large. A grain of gold dust thrown by Alvin is exchanged for a tray full of food.

Even so, the couple who ran the shop seemed apprehensive, repeatedly saying it was too expensive and they couldn't break the change. Finally, it was only with a simple gesture of Ivan giving a free fist that the shopkeepers, surprised and delighted, accepted the gold dust with a touch of embarrassment.

As a result, when breakfast was brought to the little girl, the large tray full of food almost covered her body. It looked as if the tray had grown two legs and was running over. It looked shaky and a little funny.

"Thank you for your hard work." Alvin quickly reached out and took the tray. The sturdy feel of his hand made him laugh in surprise.

The staple food is a flatbread with a hollow middle and thin crispy sides. It is the most common staple food for desert residents and can be bought at various food stalls on the streets and alleys.

The main side dishes are various common ingredients, as well as a rectangular fried egg made with eggs mixed with green onions and wheat flour. The latter is a whole large piece when it is first made, and then divided into rectangular columnar small pieces for sale according to the amount required by the customer.

In addition to these, there is another food with local characteristics, that is fried hummus. The golden fried meatballs are particularly crispy when bitten, and you can see beige bean paste mixed with green vegetable foam inside.

In Alvin's opinion, these foods are not particularly delicious, but they have their own unique flavor.

Sitting on the long wooden bench next to the breakfast shop, I could hear all kinds of shouting and hawking. Not far away, there were young and beautiful desert girls dressed as dancers, dancing local dances and selling drinks to passers-by.

"Big brother, are you a fighter?" A nervous voice came from beside me.

Looking down, I saw the little girl who had brought the food. She didn't leave immediately like before, but was whispering with her hand to her mouth, looking around cautiously.

That wheat-colored face was full of alertness that didn't match his age, and it made people feel childish and amusing when looking at it.

Since he was now responsible for the feint, drawing attention, Ivan didn't have to worry about exposing his identity as a Freedom Fist member and attracting unnecessary trouble and attention. In a sense, that was even better.

So, he nodded to the little girl confidently, indicating that he was a fighter of the Fist of Freedom.

This immediately made the girl look surprised.

"Great!"

"?"

Chapter 86: Street Encounter

"Do you need any help?"

As Alvin stuffed the perfectly baked bread into his mouth, he asked with interest:

The little girl put her hands behind her back, her face red, and tapped the ground with her feet, looking embarrassed to speak.

This situation is actually not uncommon. Everyone knows that most of the people in the Freedom Fist are fighters who rise up to fight for everyone's freedom.

Therefore, they tend to provide help when they can. Similarly, fighters are very willing to listen to the public and do their best to solve their problems.

If Alvin had not joined the Fist of Freedom, it would be hard for him to imagine how such a tacit and trusting relationship was established.

But through his observations over the past few days, he not only realized how high the reputation of the boxer was among the people, but also finally figured out the cruel reality behind the establishment of this relationship.

That kind of cruelty makes people silent, as if a huge rock is pressing on their hearts.

For the people in the silent desert, their daily life is like having their heads forced into water, and the cruel desert environment is the ruthless sea water that fills their bodies, the water from the dust-free sea, the icy white sand water.

As for the plundering of bandits, the oppression of nobles, and the irresistible blood tax from the Witch King, these layers of burdens imposed from multiple aspects together formed an irresistible big hand, cruel and tyrannical.

Judging from the results, unless the ordinary people whose heads are held down can evolve gills on the spot and immediately learn to breathe underwater, no matter how they struggle, it is only a matter of time before they drown.

It is precisely because of this that the average life expectancy of most desert dwellers is only 30 or 40 years old, and living to 50 years old can be considered a long life.

The Fist of Freedom fighters, these heroes who roam the desert, usually work to hunt down bandits who attack oasis villages, or borrow things from some exploitative nobles under the cover of night.

The borrowed items ranged from gold hidden in underground cellars, grain piled up in warehouses, to the fat heads that had been growing on their necks for many years and were ripe to the point of falling off.

This kind of borrowed items are never returned.

After all, the boxing fighters borrowed money from the masters based on their own abilities, so there is no reason for them to pay it back.

For the people who have been suffering from the harsh environment and all kinds of hardships, this undoubtedly gave them a chance to poke their heads out of the dust-free sea and take a deep breath.

Regardless of whether you will be pushed into the water again, the feeling of breathing freely is something that makes people hopeful, like the last ray of light in the darkness.

For the slightest sweetness amidst the intense bitterness, even the most honest and hardworking ordinary farmer would grit his teeth and shout out "I don't know"!

Trust was built from this, built from shared blood.

"So, is there anything that's bothering you?"

Placing the empty plate on the table after finishing all the food, Ivan looked at the little girl who ran away with a red face to help her parents, and then quietly ran back, and asked in a gentle tone:

Is someone blackmailing this stall? Or are there criminals targeting their business? No way! It's just a simple stall made of wooden poles and a tarp. Could someone even target them?

Uh, could it be that some extremely vicious guy has taken a fancy to this little girl?

While everyone was making random guesses, the little girl finally spoke.

"I want to learn boxing!"

"?" Alvin rubbed his ears. The little girl, who was not even as tall as his waist after disguise, actually said seriously that she wanted to learn boxing?

"Why? Learning boxing is very hard."

"But if I learn boxing, I can go to the desert alone!" the little girl said confidently.

"Go to the desert? You are so young, what are you going to do in the desert?" Alvin became more and more confused.

"Do business! Do big business!" The little girl put her hands on her hips and read out her ideal in a firm tone.

"I want to be a great businesswoman like the mistress of the Golden Sands! Ah! Mom, stop pulling my ears, it hurts--" Before she could finish her words, the great businesswoman (the future) was dragged away by her old mother by her ears.

No, is there any direct connection between becoming a businessman and learning boxing?

Does a great businessman have to be good at boxing?

What a hardcore business war this is!

Alvin stared at the scene in amazement, and then he realized that the object of admiration mentioned by the other party, the remarkable businesswoman, seemed to be someone he knew.

Then again, it seems Heidi hasn't contacted me in a while, and I don't know how far her plans have progressed. This realistic villain is also eyeing the Witch King's secrets. In a sense, she's really bold.

With a sigh, Alvin turned around and saw a familiar figure holding a wine barrel rushing into an alley not far away, with a few sneaky guys next to him trying to touch his pockets.

He squinted his eyes and took a closer look. When the strange green gradient Mohawk came into view, he recognized the other person's identity.

"Grippy?"

He stepped forward to drive away those petty thieves who had attempted to steal, and the deep dents of his fists left on the wall next to him were enough to create an excessive deterrent. Alvin came to the figure who was lying on the ground with his butt sticking up and holding the wine barrel with both hands.

He poked the dwarf Bloodsworn Avenger Grippy's butt with his toe. Judging from his dead-pig-like reaction, he was probably completely drunk to the point of losing his mind. He called him a dead pig because a live pig would at least grunt when kicked, but a dead pig would remain silent.

After thinking for a moment, Ivan suddenly stamped his foot. He was clearly using force, but no sound came out.

Lan Dou Sheng Quan's precise control over the transmission of power allowed the force of the stomping foot to be transmitted almost intact to Greeppi's body, as if an invisible person had raised his foot and flipped him over.

But the young dwarf's face was covered with snot and tears, and his once proud beard was covered with stains. He looked like a drunkard.

I don’t really want to use my hands to help him... Alvin thought with a dark face.

But after all, he is someone I know. If I continue to let him lie there, who knows what will happen.

After a moment's thought, Alvin suddenly hit upon a good idea. He clasped his hands together and began clapping his hands while standing still.

Despite clapping, the black-haired boy's hands made no sound. Instead, the dwarf, lying on his back, seemed to be suspended by an invisible hook, and with a strange movement, he suddenly climbed up from the ground.

Afterwards, Alvin continued to clap his hands rhythmically, sighing in his heart that boxing is indeed a free skill. At the same time, he used the secret of the Lan Dou Holy Fist - the force string to control it, and skillfully transformed the power generated by the simple clapping action into an invisible force that lifted the dwarf at a distance.

Then, a magical scene happened in the alley.

A dirty, drunken dwarf was crawling forward, his hands and feet trembling, while behind him followed a young man with an expressionless face who kept clapping.

Snap, snap, snap, snap, snap, snap, snap, snap.

Chapter 87 Fireside Chat

In my dream, I saw you in my dream.

The scent of home rushed into his body. It was the smell of earth that smelled fishy to others but was particularly fragrant to dwarves.

These alien races appeared in the world of Palladia thousands of years ago. They live underground all year round and persevere in digging various precious minerals buried in the earth.

Their actions are characterized by a stubborn determination to persevere until they hit a wall, and mining is so integral to their lives that even their homes are built within old, excavated mines. To the point where some ancient dwarven kingdoms, steeped in history, are built directly within the very mountains they have hollowed out.

In that country, every mountain is a city, and the light rising from the mountaintop at night might even mistake it for an active volcano. In reality, it is the ever-burning communal furnace at the heart of the dwarven city.

For the dwarves, forging is a more important pursuit in life than mining minerals.

Yes, in the dwarven worldview, forging is something that goes far beyond what can be described as work or a hobby. It is a life pursuit worthy of their lifelong pursuit!

Therefore, large dwarf kingdoms often build super-large furnaces in the city center. These are factories for mass forging production and also provide heat and fuel to thousands of families in the city. Therefore, they are regarded as the heart of the city and are nicknamed the Heart of the Furnace.

It's said that the Heart of the Forge, held by the oldest dwarven kingdom, is so massive it's unimaginably large, practically housing the entire city itself. Rather than building a massive furnace in the heart of the city, it's more accurate to say the entire city is built upon a massive furnace of unimaginable size.

Of course, the furnace hearts of ordinary dwarven kingdoms were far less impressive, but they were still much larger than those in ordinary blacksmith shops. Therefore, the primary source of heat wasn't common fuels like wood or coal, but rather scorching magma extracted directly from deep underground, containing a high concentration of fire elemental magic.

This has led to a unique traditional custom, whereby every dwarf must visit the Heart of the Forge in his hometown once when he reaches adulthood and complete a qualified forging job on his own.

Right now, Gripi felt as if he had returned to his hometown, a place he had left for so long. He was currently undergoing the arduous yet exciting rite of passage with his peers.

The hammer swung down, making a clanging sound, and the iron ore was struck and forged, emitting a large number of hot sparks.

But for some reason, Gripi felt that he wasn't the one swinging the hammer, but rather the one responsible for the iron ore being smashed by the hammer! And in his opinion, the person swinging the hammer didn't understand forging at all, but only understood a little bit.

Anyway, he, the iron ore that was responsible for being smashed, felt uncomfortable all over, as if he had fallen seventeen or eighteen times on the ground, and then rolled down a thousand steps in one breath.

Wait, didn’t I leave home when I was very young?

I have never experienced the coming-of-age ceremony of an ordinary dwarf!

So what is happening in front of me...

Oh, it was just a dream!

With a series of convulsive and strong breathing, Grippy suddenly jumped up like a cat whose tail was stepped on. Well, judging by his size, he must be an orange cat that was fed like a gas tank and had over-fed cheeks.

"Ouch!" As soon as he sat up, Gripi felt severe pain all over his body, coupled with the severe headache caused by the hangover. It would be better for him to continue dreaming!

"What am I doing..." He subconsciously protected his beard and completely wrapped his palm around a copper beard ring. Grepi looked around with a blank and alert look.

The young dwarf Bloodsworn Avenger then realized that he wasn't lying in an alley, as he had imagined before his memory blacked out. Instead, he had been dumped on a carpet. The familiar furnishings of the surrounding rooms indicated that he had returned to the Golden Sands Merchant Guild. The scorching heat emanating from the towering furnace hearth in his previous dream was actually the crackling fireplace not far away.

Although the desert is extremely hot during the day, it is very cold at night.

Are you being taken care of?

But, but why do I feel pain all over my body?

Holding his head with his mohawk drooping, Gripi fell into increasingly dark and uneasy thoughts.

Meanwhile, in another similarly decorated lounge next door, Ivan, who had been clapping his hands and manually "driving" Greeppi to the Golden Sands Chamber of Commerce like a corpse driver, was thinking about something.