The icy wind blew from the north, and the turf was withered and yellow, and it looked gray. Pen | fun | pavilion www. ｂｉｑｕｇｅ。 Wrapping his fur tightly, Quegfin raised his gaze to the huge arc that had risen on the horizon, outlining a pale giant that stood as the main mountain of the Misty Mountains, five thousand meters above sea level. In the ancient legend of the barbarian tribes of the Misty Mountains, the mountain god Vijovis leaped down from the top of the mountain in the form of a bobcat, his fur whiter than snow, followed by the omen of a wild wolf, whose roar caused an avalanche to call the tribes to war and plunder. Quegfen sighed softly in a mouthful of white mist, "Sure enough, the cold of Ravenston is as annoying as the heat of the Empire. ”

"That's because you businessmen are weak." The old drunkard said contemptuously, he **** his upper body, occasionally had ice particles hit his solid chest muscles, and he was wearing only a pair of leather pants on his body, just like when he was still in Janos, but not as ragged as before. After all, he is still a demigod, and although he has lost his ultimate violence due to his injuries, the strength of his body is still not comparable to that of a mortal man like Quegfin. "I used to be a northerner......," he sighed.

Quegfin looked at the old drunkard in amazement, Alaric von Bloch was a famous hero in the Pander era, and if there were a good deed like Broschette in that era, Alaric von Bloch would undoubtedly be in the top three. At that time, Quegfin was just a royal bye-son who was buried in the camp all day long, suffering from the turmoil of politics. The co-owner of the Pande Chamber of Commerce, lighting up the meteors of the Scarlet Continent? That was all after the Red Scourge. Having known the old drunkard for nearly half a century, Quegfin realized that he knew nothing about this man's past.

"Don't care, it's normal that you don't know." The old drunkard said lightly, "Actually, I don't remember much, when I was a child, I was rolling in the snow by the campfire, and my father was watching me, roasting an ice bear." ”

"Oh my God, your dad really makes a fire." Quagfin exaggeratedly said, "Ice bear's jerky isn't tasty." ”

"Then I ate the whole ice bear by myself." The old drunkard slapped his belly, as if he was reminiscing about the fishy smell and sourness of the roasted ice bear meat, "It's not delicious, but it's full, and it's easy to catch." Unlike the Snowwolf, he runs away when he sees his father. Ice bears will always pounce stupidly and be knocked down by Daddy. ”

"You remember it well."

"Because I can only remember my childhood so clearly," said the old drunkard softly, his tone as cold as snow, "my youth and prime of life have been so long and boring that I don't bother to remember, and every day I fight and kill." It wasn't until there was only one country left on the continent that I was freed from this extremely boring life. ”

"The shorter the days, the more precious." The old drunkard looked back at Quegfin with a blank look in his eyes. Quegfin suddenly had the illusion that the old drunkard, though still alive in front of him, seemed to see a ghost standing in front of his tomb, whispering about the past buried in the tomb.

It was the short childhood of Alaric von Bloch.

Quegfin shuddered slightly, he realized one thing from the words of the old drunkard: long before Kavala the Great founded the Pande Empire, the noisy people were active on this continent!

The cold wind gradually cooled, cutting the skin like a knife blade, and occasionally rolling up snow and dust and smashing on the wall of the carriage, Quegfin had already taken refuge in the carriage, and Riedylan was so blue that he could barely hold the reins in his hand, and the thin layer of leather gloves on his hand had a limited effect on the cold, and the cold ran through every joint of his palm like a needle.

But suddenly there was a scorching heat wave rushing to the face, as if a boiling water was suddenly injected into the icy ocean current, and the skin was about to freeze and crack in the extreme cold, but the next second the hair tips were almost scorched and curled up in this heat wave! There was also a very subtle aroma mixed with it, as if someone was dripping blood on the red-hot iron.

One heat wave, another wave! At the same time, the sound of gold and iron radiated somewhere in the main peak of the Misty Mountain like a flood bell and a big lu, as if the whole world was being beaten on an anvil, and the sledgehammer played the strongest note of the stereotype! As far as the sound wave can reach, the snow peak collapses!

In the wild cold wind, the sound of Qingyue's knife sounded, as long as a newborn breathing evenly and powerfully, and everyone could hear what kind of ecstasy was filled with the sound of the knife, like the dew drops of the egret flapping its wings in the early morning, and the cry before striking with the sky. The egret is destined to throw himself into the free blue sky, and this newly forged weapon is destined to throw himself into the bloody slaughter.

"That's ......," Quegfin asked in a low voice.

"It's nothing, it's just iron." The old drunkard said lightly.

The main peak of the Misty Mountain, there is an extremely hidden col at an altitude of five hundred meters, the curve of the mountain is carved out of an inward concave arc here, and the surrounding dangerous peaks cover this place like five fingers that are closed together, and the entrance is a narrow line of sky, from which the warm wind seeps out.

On the first line, it was actually a meadow, dotted with a few small flowers that could not be named, and the greenery even faintly spread to the gray mountains. It looks like an ordinary family's back garden, but what family will open their own back garden in this bitter cold place?

There were three people standing on the grass, old and young. The old man is thin, the middle-aged man is strong, and the young man is delicate. In front of the old man was an anvil as high as him, on which was placed a simple long knife, the blade still vibrating slightly, and the sound was incessant. The old man raised his head and drank a sip of spirits, lowered his head and sprayed on the hot knife, and the white mist rose, reflecting the terrifying light of the knife. "It's your turn." The old man licked his lips and stared at the young man opposite.

The young man smiled softly and untied the long box behind him. He had a very dazzling short golden hair, which was quietly attached to his cheeks, and the corners of his mouth were gentle and soft when he smiled, and if you didn't notice his flat chest and well-defined Adam's apple, you would think that he was actually a virtuous aristocratic lady.

The two-meter-long box opened, and a small piece of metal rolled out of it, black and not slippery. The young man looked up and said apologetically, "Can you borrow a hammer and an anvil?" ”

"Yes, can you do it, do you want the bellows?" The old man gave in slightly.

"No need, I'm cold forging." The young man shook his head and placed the piece of metal on the anvil. Next to the anvil were two hammers, one large and one small, the weight was not light, and the young man shook it in his hand, took a deep breath, and raised his hand.

"Cold forging?" The old man frowned, in his opinion, this piece of metal has a lot of impurities, and its plasticity is better than that of pig iron.

The young man smiled slightly, and placed the piece of metal on the anvil. Next to the anvil were two hammers, one large and one small, the weight was not light, and the young man shook it in his hand, took a deep breath, and raised his hand.

"Drink!" The old man's eyes widened, he was an expert in blacksmithing, and he could see how sophisticated the young man was in his hands, and when the hammer rose to its highest point, the angle of the hammer was already in place. In forging, the first hammer is very important, especially the cold forging without the help of fire, and excellent blacksmiths can often knock the iron out of the prototype of the sword embryo with the first hammer.

The young man dropped the hammer, and the hammer head slid gently over the metal surface, clearly a heavy piece of iron, but it had the effect of a gentle wind. The young man swung hammer after hammer with his left hand, with a gentle hand and a gentle expression, as if it was not cold metal lying on the anvil, but his lover.

The middle-aged man sneakily approached the old man: "If this kid's iron-striking technique is compared to something, is he doing foreplay?" ”

"Phew!" The old man said angrily, "What kind of iron is this, nonsense!" He turned to the young man and shouted, "Hey! It's game over! I don't know how you found this place, but why don't you hone in on it and challenge me again? ”

"Can you give me some more time?" The young man said softly, swinging his hammer faster and faster, his wrist tearing through the wind at an incredible speed, and then the sound of the striking was like a torrential rain, and the sonic boom was deafening, and sparks were spraying wildly from the small piece of metal. The air around the anvil began to distort, and the temperature climbed steadily, soon reaching scorching proportions. The old man's face changed, and he suddenly understood why the young man had used cold forging, rubbing the air at a speed exceeding the speed of sound, generating enough heat to remove impurities from the inside of the metal, he himself was a wind furnace! That's true in principle, but is this kind of thing really within the reach of man?

Under this violent and rapid blow, the metal block deformed at a speed visible to the naked eye, gradually stretching and lengthening. The old man's expression gradually became solemn, he was the greatest blacksmith in Pande, and he was also the oldest blacksmith with the most qualifications, he had seen all kinds of strange forging methods, but the methods used by this young man in cold forging in front of him were unheard of.

Is it gentle and wildly shaped...... The old man carefully touched the doorway, forging has accompanied him for most of his life, he can be sure that the error tolerance rate of this forging technique is infinitely close to zero, and the gentle determination of the embryo is actually not difficult, in fact, any blacksmith at this stage will mostly choose a heavy hammer to speed up the process, and then carefully beat. But the young man's tactics were the opposite, and he was brutally hammering the piece of metal into the shape he wanted! But each hammer is extremely meticulous, the angle and strength are flawless when it rises and falls, and the arcs rise and fall, like a wave that is endless, pleasing to the eye.

The young man let out a cloudy breath, sweat dripping down the ends of his hair. This piece of metal was hammered out by him with a handle nearly two meters long, which was not so much hammering as pinching. He threw away the hammer, raised his hand to hold the long handle, raised the sledgehammer, and smashed it down!

Final word!

The sound of the sledgehammer hitting the metal at the front end did not explode, compared to the earth-shattering hammer that the old man had finished before, this hammer was like a small pebble lightly thrown into the water, but the surging force had been silently poured into the metal, and there were no monstrous waves, but there were ripples that spread sharply on the impact end. In the shocked eyes of the middle-aged man, the metal on the long handle began to resonate and deform!

One hammer, one more hammer! It was obviously a heavy sledgehammer, and when the old man wielded it, it was as magnificent as a mountain and as a sea, and the force exerted on the sword embryo was like a mountain, and the vastness was like an ocean. But in the hands of this young man who is as soft as a woman, he swayed a graceful poetry, like time flowing on the wings of a white bird, and the arc of the girl's eyebrows gradually vicissitudes.

The blade of this weapon was also shaped by a poetic hammer, like a spear, but on the side of the straight blade was a curved blade shaped like a cold moon, violent and graceful, just like its forger. The old man and the middle-aged man were both experts in cold weapons, and they didn't know how many sharp blades they had played with in their long lives, but they couldn't call out the name of the weapon.

The young man was still thrashing, and he changed his hammer and sharpened the edge until blue sparks slid out of the edge. The weapon came to life in the hands of the young man, and it lay quietly on the anvil like a hidden dragon in the abyss. The young man flicked his fingers on the straight edge with satisfaction, and the clanging sound echoed through the col, as melodious as the notes that slipped from the fingertips of a harp master, but not so sharp, as if its spirit was about to cut through the mountain wall! It lies dormant quietly on the anvil, like a hidden dragon in the abyss.

"Halberd Name: Hazy Moon." The young man said respectfully, as if a student was presenting his graduation project to a teacher.

"Hazy Moon......" The old man stared at the strange weapon called "Halberd", his eyes vicissitudes. "It's actually an artifact, and the so-called Treasure Elf Scimitar of the Nuoduo is nothing more than that, right?"

"It's really a lonely hammer method, but it's the only way to hit a lonely artifact. Looks like I'm really getting old. The old man said slowly, "I lost." ”

"Dad, you are indeed old, and your sons are back." Someone answered at the exit of the first line of heaven. The old drunkard clasped his hands on his chest and looked complicated.

The old man didn't raise his head: "You can't drink me when I'm old." Stinky boy, you're out in trouble again? ”

"Alaric von Bloch," the young man called out the old drunkard's name accurately, "for you are the son of old Mr. Aziz. ”

"You are?" The old drunkard squinted at the young man.

"My name is Lofeel, you can call me Xiao Luo." The young man smiled, "It's a tavernkeeper." ”

"What kind of liquor are you selling?"

"The wine of war." Loefel said lightly, "I think the Pander people are good at this." ”