In addition to exquisite skills, forging requires a lot of patience and a strong enough physique.

Otherwise, the blacksmith who will fall in this ordeal will not want to get any results.

But for Bourkeso, forging is like a joke for him, like the material refining that is going on now, maybe it can be said to be a kind of relaxation?

"Fifteenth piece of metal."

Bourkeso silently counted the pieces of metal he had finished refining.

According to his estimates, the heavy weapon, called "The Blood of the Warriors of Bourkeso", would probably require about thirty pieces of metal.

As for the materials that add magical powers, it's not time to add them.

After all, forging this kind of thing is never something that can be completed in a short period of time, and this time the forging target is the weapon he wants to use, so it will be even more carefully prepared.

The sky grew darker during the forging process, and the Supreme Mage did not know when he had left the small blacksmith's shop.

Maybe she's busy again.

"Guardian of the world? What a great title. Bourkeso said in a mocking tone.

Bourkeso used to have a similar name, but in the face of death, no matter how great and powerful, he was very powerless.

Perhaps the dead can have a chance to overcome death, but this kind of thing Bourkeso has no idea of verifying.

The food on the table had cooled, and although it was still hot in the heat, there was still some heat in it.

However, bread is sandwiched with slices of meat and vegetables, and it is never deliberately textured.

And the barbarians are not a group that pursues the ultimate delicacy, for them it is enough to be able to eat a full stomach.

"Bang!" With a bang, the blacksmith's shop in Bourkeso was opened in an almost brutal way. 、

A dark-skinned guy in a jacket swaggered in.

"What do you need?"

Bourkeso clutched the sandwich in his thick palm, and it looked like the food was very small.

As for the way to open the door, Bourkeso didn't care.

When he was a recruit, the sturdy and heavy wooden doors on the sacred mountain of Harorgas had to be opened by ramming and the like.

For Bourkeso, breaking the door to enter the room was the most common case, as most of the time there was only a large group of demons waiting behind the door.

Who cares what demons think? A polite opening of the door is even more of a joke.

Kicking in the door is really hard for him to make waves.

"The Barbarian's Hammer? What's the name? Do you have permission to set up shop here? ”

This guy spoke in that rampant tone, and he didn't look like a strong man at all, no matter what world he was in.

This guy is clearly not a guest, Bourkeso has already understood.

Bourkeso, who stood up, was more than two meters tall, and his shirtless, scarred, muscular muscles fell into the guy's eyes.

"So, you're here to make trouble."

Bourkeso slipped the last bit of food into his mouth and clapped his hands as he walked over to the rampant fellow.

Since he stepped into the battlefield, no one had dared to provoke him.

Even those Hell Demon Kings will give a respect to the brave, and being provoked is a novel experience for him.

By the time Bourkeso's muscular, non-human-like body approached the fellow, the fellow was already shivering.

This gangster may be a member of some gang, and may even have a few lives in his hands.

But that experience wasn't enough to make him fearless in the face of the Barbarian King, even when he pulled out his pistol.

"Stop!"

The thug said in a somewhat trembling voice, the pistol held in his hand like a burning stick, and in his panic he forgot to open the safe.

Looking at Bourkeso, who was two heads taller than him, and his scarred body, the thug began to regret why he hadn't observed the situation inside before speaking ill of it.

"Is this a firearm? I know them and I'm curious, but you took up arms against me, and it's not just a provocation that can explain it. ”

Take up arms and face the barbarians, that is a declaration of battle.

No matter how weak the opponent is, the barbarians will face the battle squarely.

Whether the barbarians will use their full strength or not is another matter.

It's as if humans in this world don't pick up firearms just to kill an ant that can be found everywhere.

Nor would a barbarian be fully armed to kill a weak man who could not even rub his oily skin through.

"Then go to Masayir and confess!"

Bourkeso had no interest in the scoundrel's purpose, and he didn't care about the so-called "trouble" that might arise.

The guardian of this world, the Supreme Mage, is just a mage with a little ability in his eyes, so there is no one in this world who can defeat him.

The big thick hand waved at the thug's head, like driving away those noisy flying insects.

Although the barbarian is a master of using weapons, and fighting with his bare hands is certainly not comparable to the warrior monks who specialize in boxing, this guy is just a weak person who can't even be defeated by a zombie, and this is enough.

Bourqueso's hand landed on the round head, and he heard the muffled sound of a watermelon popping.

A headless head fell to the ground, blood spreading.

"I'm not good at cleaning, so it's a bit of a problem."

Bourkeso looked at the messy ground and had a headache.

If you are on the sacred mountain of Harogas, the land will contain the corpses and return them to this world as the force of nature.

But now, he could only lift the back collar of the corpse and throw it into the furnace that was still burning.

The flames lit the grease and made a crackling sound, along with the stench that acted on the mind.

"Well, it tastes a bit like hellish chop."

Bourkeso bit the tip of his tongue and took a sip of the wine and muttered to himself with some reminiscence.

He then reached out and pulled out a large handful of charcoal ash from the bottom of the furnace and scattered it on the ground to hide the blood.

"That's it."

Bourkeso looked at the picture in front of him, no different from his perception of cleanliness, and nodded in satisfaction.

"Food, it doesn't seem to be enough."

Buurkeso sat on the ground and looked at the fire that was burning vigorously in front of him.

Smelling the stench of burnt corpses made him remember the days when the demons had killed him inexhaustibly.

But hunger remains.

These days, he doesn't sell anything at all.

The "toys" he forged were given to the weak mages, and the currency had been spent by him for the previous two days.

"I hope I can use the gold coins on my body, at least in exchange for some food."

Seeing that the fire began to weaken, a large handful of glowing golden coins appeared in Bourkeso's hand.

The gold coins were bare, with no patterns at all.

After all, in that precarious world, the role of human beings as a stable currency is enough.

There is no need for any anti-counterfeiting marks on the coins, and when the survival of human beings is a problem, if someone goes to open a gold mine and mint coins, it is also his ability.

In the world of Diablo, the strong naturally have inexhaustible wealth.

The flames were finally running out, and there was nothing left of the corpse in the heat.

Only in this unventilated blacksmith's shop, there was something terrible about what was going on here.

Bourkeso opened the door and hung a huge iron lock he had made on it.

There is nothing special about this lock, you just need to pull it vigorously to both sides.

There is no technical content at all, but for the thieves in this world, this lock may be a barrier that they will not be able to step through no matter what way they do.

Who can have the power of a barbarian?

There is no such profession as the Holy Cult Army in this world, and even the strength of the warrior monk cannot open this lock.

Then there's no safer place in the world than using this lock to get a room, unless those guys use the barbarian way of opening the door.