Giggs blinked at Ian and said, "You didn't choose the comfortable days of the blacksmith, Ian, but you chose to be with us Warscar. Don't mind, I know you must have your own reasons, and so do we, everyone is pretty much the same. But that doesn't matter!" Giggs drank the wine from his glass, "The important thing is that now, at this moment, we are still brothers!"

"Giggs, you're drunk. Maggie scolded softly, then glanced at Ian apologetically, "Ignore him, he goes around calling people brothers and sisters whenever he drinks too much." ”

"Don't talk nonsense! I'm not that casual!" Giggs blushed and cried out as he slapped the table.

"And what would you say if he had chosen to be a blacksmith?" said Maggie.

Giggs blinked and smiled, "I would say that from today onwards, our Warscar Mercenary Regiment has a magic blacksmith!

Ian couldn't laugh or cry, laughing at himself that he was new after all, and he couldn't fully understand them. But the wonderful thing was that he actually felt a trace of the warmth in the dilapidated house in the slums of Black Eagle City in this inexplicably warm atmosphere. Everyone is so real, although they will quarrel and even fight if they disagree, but the close connection between each other that does not need to be said makes Ian envious and nostalgic for it.

"But really," Giggs whispered as he leaned over Ian, "can't you—really can't you find the time to help me with something?"

Ian looked at Giggs and didn't know why he suddenly wanted to laugh, wanted to laugh, screamed.

Maybe it was because today's golden fruit wine was particularly strong, and he felt something in his heart jump with joy, as if someone had pushed him, making him stand up and jump up. Ignoring Maggie's eyes, he stepped on the bar chair with one foot, and then stepped on the countertop of the bar, and loudly announced, "I'll forge a piece of equipment for each of you! Everyone! Remember to bring me your materials!"

However, his impulsiveness and pride were only enough to support him in saying these two sentences, and as soon as he noticed the gaze around him and the atmosphere that had calmed down to listen to him, he immediately reverted to his original appearance, "However, I don't know much about Warcraft yet......

"For Ian!" he could say before he could finish his sentence when he was drowned out by Rodel's roar and the laughter of the crowd raising their glasses.

“...... Well, I'm not responsible for doing it badly. Ian sat back in his chair and muttered to himself uneasily.

He found that his previous boredom had been swept away.

For the next few days, Ian spent most of his time in Leila's Investigative Society. He left only in the evening, when the last of the association's staff members had returned home from his shift. Lyra's research materials and knowledge and connections in processing science have been of great help to Ian. Although his head was hot that day, he announced that he would process a finished product for everyone in the Battle Scar Mercenary Group, but it was not as easy as it was to say that he had to start doing it.

He was very familiar with tailoring and weaving - he could only sew old clothes, no different from an ordinary person. However, if you want to integrate Warcraft materials into processed products, this skill is far from enough. Special Warcraft materials are processed into finished products, which is not as "simple" as casting metal products with psychic power. Comparatively, Ian prefers to fuse materials with metal and process them into various weapons or metal armor, at least in this regard, Sid's two-handed greatsword production experience can be used as a reference.

Things like the clasps made of cores on the corpse carp cloak provide the wearer's psychic power recovery speed, and they also require psychic research knowledge. With Ian's lack of knowledge in this area, it is impossible to make up for it in a few days.

So his top priority was to use Leila to learn about the strange and strange monster materials in front of him, some of which he had never even heard of.

In Ian's view, scholars are eccentric creatures. Because Leila excitedly studies all kinds of strange materials submitted by the mercenaries every day, "greedily" records and analyzes, as if her saliva is about to flow. If it weren't for Ian's urging, she would have gone without eating, drinking, or sleeping until she passed out.

The mercenaries of the scars of the war began to deliver the materials they had collected one after another the next day, but since then they have hardly met Ian, who has left early and returned late. If the material is submitted late, it can only be forwarded through Maggie, because Ian just comes back to sleep every day and leaves in a hurry.

"Ian, you say, did you roll up our materials and run away?" the anxious Giggs had just made an inappropriate joke when he was met with a roll of the eyes of Maggie.

"If you want to ask him about the processing, then wait here before dawn, maybe you can meet him. Maggie suggested.

Because Ian had too little time to return, Giggs had to go to Maggie every day to inquire about the progress, hoping that his finished product would be completed as soon as possible. And Ian has only had one contact with Maggie after so many days.

Late one night, he hurried into the lobby of the Chamber of Commerce from outside and handed a letter to Maggie.

"If there is a caravan from our Chamber of Commerce going to the Empire in the next few days, please keep an eye on it for me, I want them to bring a letter for me. ”

"Where?" asked Maggie, taking the letter.

"Light Breeze Village. Ian spat out three words in a low voice, "The Imperial Demonic Beasts are severely infested, and the places south of Light Wind Village are classified as dangerous areas. So I'm not sure if there's a caravan that will go that way......"

"Got it, I'll keep an eye on it. Maggie rolled her eyes, "Do you need any follow-up?"

Ian was stunned: "Follow-up?"

"Recipient," the cat man smiled nonchalantly, "do you need to retrieve any tokens from the recipient, or reply, or just ship the recipient back to you?"

"Can you bring people back?" Ian exclaimed.

Maggie laughed, "Hah!" she bared her snow-white teeth, "This is the Golden-tailed Chamber of Commerce, what do you think that old fox is ......" Maggie's words were cut off stiffly, and she suddenly turned to pour the wine. Ian heard a deep voice clear his throat to his right—Victor climbed into the bar chair.

Maggie walked over with a glass of wine, and Victor held out his hand to Maggie, palms up, four little fingers hooked side by side.

Maggie handed the wine over, but Victor didn't reach for it, his palms stubbornly flattened there.

"Letter. Victor only said one word.

Maggie rolled her eyes and obediently handed him the letter.

Victor turned to look at Ian, and then raised the letter in his hand: "This kind of thing, come to me directly next time." They were brought by me to protect the Chamber of Commerce, but they have no right to send a caravan. ”

"Got it. Ian replied with some embarrassment. Victor looked at him and did not speak.

Watching Ian walk up to the second floor, there was the sound of the door closing, and the president of the Goldtail Chamber of Commerce sighed softly: "Maggie, do me a favor?"

"What's the hurry, old-big?" Maggie swallowed the word "fox" back.

Victor ignored it completely and continued: "I'll arrange this letter. Let your friend secretly escort the merchant with this letter, and I will inform you before I leave. ”

Maggie frowned, "Isn't your caravan going to bring mercenaries with you?"

"I said, I want to escort it secretly and make sure that the letter is safely delivered to the recipient. Victor became impatient again, "The mercenaries of the caravan are only concerned about the safety of the caravan. ”

"Okay, okay, got it. Maggie gave up arguing.

Victor drank the last sip of the glass and his voice returned to calm: "There are some things that are trickier to deal with than Warcraft, you should understand." ”

Maggie nodded, silent.

Half a month later, a caravan from the Western Federation, escorted by six or seven mercenaries, slowly entered Qingfeng Village along the east-west avenue. Although the leader of the caravan had already heard about the situation in Qingfeng Village when passing through Huxin Town and Tungsten Mine Village, he had other tasks on his own besides the merchants, and he had to verify them with his own eyes.

At this time, he led the caravan and mercenaries into the ruins of what was once known as Light Wind Village.

Most of the houses have been damaged to varying degrees, and each one is covered with dust, and it seems that no one has lived here for a long time.

"Boss, how do you go?" his lieutenant followed.

The leader looked around and said, "Go through the village." ”

With his order, the caravan slowly made its way through the ruins along the main road of Light Wind Village. Several mercenaries lined up on either side of the team, staggered in front and back, guarding the surroundings. The remains of the burned houses on both sides were charred black, and the corpses of some small demonic beasts could be seen on the side of the road, which had rotted down to the bones. They didn't find any human corpses, and they didn't know if they had been taken away, or if they had been gnawed so hard that there were no bones left.

Reaching the east entrance of the village, the caravan leader looked at the two collapsed houses on his right, and asked the mercenaries to approach and inspect them—like all other houses, broken and abandoned.

"Let's go, head north, we'll spend the night at Rift Rock Castle tonight, and we'll leave for Black Eagle City early tomorrow morning. "The chief gave another instruction.

It didn't take long for them to reach Fractured Rock Castle. The caravan leader had an impression of this place, he had been here about a year ago and had sold many swords. If he remembered correctly, the lords here were very fond of sword fighting, so good quality weapons could easily be sold for a good price here.

But the scene in front of him now made him doubt his memory.

In the lower part of Cracked Rock Fort, there are patches of tents made of gray and white canvas. This means that it is already crowded with refugees in exile.

The villages under its jurisdiction were repeatedly infested by demonic beasts, and none of the patrols and mercenaries who went south to investigate returned. In desperation, Lord Baltod had no choice but to ring the alarm bell and gather the villagers to the garrison of Split Rock Fortress to concentrate on defense. It's the second time that Light Breeze Village has been attacked by a large-scale demonic beast, right? Thanks to a mysterious person, otherwise an entire village of people would have been lost, and Bartod really didn't know how to explain to the above. Every time I think of this, I secretly sweat.

But who is that mysterious man...... How did he know that Breeze Village was going to be attacked? The lord touched his bare head, clueless.

The caravan leader's caravan slowly advanced through the city gates, and the road to Split Rock Fort was not wide. As the number of people grew, his van could barely move through areas where refugees gathered. The refugees probably didn't need the crafts and works of art he brought, so he took a few of his cronies, each with a horse, loaded with fabrics, food, weapons, and armor that could be sold, and wandered around the lower town.

After a few turns, there was a sudden uproar among his subordinates, and a mercenary rushed out.

A moment later, he walked back with a child in his hand, still clutching a few sand nuts - the goods brought by the caravan.

The leader of the caravan bent down and squinted at the child: "Boy, what's your name?"

"Humph!" the child snorted exaggeratedly, ignoring him.

"If you answer me a few questions, I will not only let you go, but I will also give you all the fruit. The leader said with a pleasant face.

The child hesitated, looked down at the fruit in his hand, then at the caravan leader, and said loudly, "You ask!"

"What's your name?"

"Hu. The child replied proudly.