Smack. Pen % fun % Pavilion www.biquge.info

A drop of water dripped onto the container, making an extremely slight muffled sound.

But it was enough to wake Sean from his memories, and he subconsciously wiped his face, only to find that his face was covered with tears before he knew it.

I haven't frowned when I fought for my life with a strong enemy countless times, but every time I recall the bits and pieces of my life with my parents, I can't help but cry.

In the end, my father didn't have time to change history.

At this time, it has been eight years since he was killed along with his mother.

For a young man who is only seventeen years old, this is a heart-rending torment that can break the liver and intestines.

In the past eight years, he has put himself in unimaginable dangers again and again, forced himself to get used to the life of hovering between life and death all day long, and worked hard to improve his strength at the moment when life and death hung by a thread in the bloody battle.

There is only one purpose, that is, I hope to be able to avenge my parents by slashing the enemy.

Although the rich combat experience he had gained over the years against opponents of different strengths had clearly taught him how powerful the enemies he would face in the future.

But Sean was fearless.

He is well aware of the strength of the enemy, and he also understands that he is getting stronger day by day.

At only seventeen years old, Sean has a calmness and composure that is difficult for his peers to achieve, neither carried away by hatred nor blinded by pain, he always moves forward step by step according to the established plan, fully prepared for revenge.

What he wants to do now is to reproduce the research results that his father devoted all his wisdom and effort to during his lifetime.

It's harder than the Elven Starfall Mithril, tougher than the Dwarven lava dragon steel, quenched and sharpened to a far greater extent than any known material, and even a powerful metal capable of enchanting.

The father named it: Forbidden Blood Steel.

With it, his path to revenge is even more successful.

Sean wiped the tears from his face, gently lowered the flame crystal pot in his hand, and began to sort out the contents of the other bags. His treasures were all sorts of barrels of charcoal, fine iron ore, smelted iron ingots, natural minerals used as auxiliary materials, and leaves and rhizomes of plants.

Sean took out the forbidden blood in his pocket and placed it with them, stood up and looked at the materials in the place, and then rubbed his hands excitedly.

After preparing for so long, it's finally about to begin.

Sean first pressed the top of the flame crystal pot and twisted it gently, and a gap immediately appeared in the body of the pot that seemed to be integrated, and with a slight upward lift, the lid of the pot was removed, revealing a large opening in the top of the pot.

He glanced at the pile of materials, picked out a few pieces of high-quality iron ore from the western foothills of the Sunset Mountains, and put them in, then grabbed a silver fern stalk and four chestnut leaves and stuffed them into the pot.

These two ferns, which were widely cultivated along the southern coast of the empire, were rich in "wood essence" in my father's words, which effectively removed impurities from the ore.

Finally, he picked out a few pieces of the bucket of charcoal and put them in the shovel, took out his black sword, smashed them with the hilt, and threw them into the pot.

This barrel of charcoal may seem inconspicuous, but it is actually very valuable, and it is charcoal fired from a thousand-year-old plane tree that Sean bought at a high price on the black market.

This charcoal is not only rich in wood essence, but also extremely resistant to combustion, and will emit a lot of heat after full combustion, which can greatly accelerate the decomposition and melting of iron ore in the smelting process.

After putting the ore and accessories, Sean reached out and screwed the lid on. Under the father's skillful hand, the interface between the lid and the body of the pot was carved into the shape of two spirals, and several ventilation holes were reserved to keep warm and exhaust at the same time.

Sean then poured all the rest of the Hanging Bell Charcoal into the shaft furnace he had built with clay, then placed the flame crystal pot on the stove, and threw a small fireball down the bottom of the furnace.

As a qualified caster, fire magic is a must. Sean has been learning basic magic knowledge under the guidance of his mother since he was a child, and with the continuous consolidation and growth in actual combat in recent years, it is no longer difficult to instantly send a fireball technique and other elementary magic.

The best hanging charcoal was instantly ignited by the fireball rubbed out by Sean in the furnace, and began to emit faint dark red flames, slowly the fire gradually increased, and the color of the flame gradually turned golden, Sean immediately picked up the bellows handle next to the furnace and began to slowly send air to the stove.

The work of pulling the bellows is usually handed over to their apprentices. But it's not a job that can be done with strength alone, and there's a lot of learning in it.

First of all, when the air supply is just started, the speed of pulling and pushing the bellows should not be too fast, and the force should not be too violent, otherwise it will not only fail to boost the fire, but may lead to a weakening of the degree of combustion.

Once the fire is complete, the furnace temperature can be adjusted by controlling the air supply force. This requires a tacit understanding between the person who pulls the bellows and the caster who is responsible for temperature control. Many craftsmen just don't pay enough attention to the link of bellows, resulting in a hard life can not become a real casting master.

Sean received careful guidance from his father in this regard, and after so many years, the skill of pulling the bellows has been perfected, and he slowly increased the intensity of pushing and pulling while observing the flames in the furnace.

Once, twice.

The flames in the furnace felt the breath of the wind and began to dance as if encouraged, and the bright light of the fire moved to the rhythm of the bellows, casting a warm light and shadow on the wall of the furnace.

At this time, it was already late at night, and Sean felt a little sleepy, so while pulling the bellows, he took out a few high-priced nettle fruits from his pocket and stuffed them in his mouth, and suddenly a very domineering feeling rushed to his mind.

Even though he was mentally prepared, Sean was still extremely embarrassed by this strong taste.

He pursed his mouth vigorously to resist the urge to spit them out, his eyes widened, his nose kept rising and falling, obviously exercising the function of taking deep breaths instead of his mouth, his long golden hair almost stood on end, and as his shaking head shook back and forth, his lake-blue eyes narrowed so that only a slit remained.

The cresley tree, which grows on both sides of the Angron River, is known for its invigorating and magical effects across the continent, and many mercenaries and hunters will have a few on hand when they can.

Even after the royal family knew about it, the ursle fruit was once collected as a strategic material and sent to the northern frontier front line against the half-giant marauders for soldiers to eat.

The reason why this inconspicuous green fruit is so refreshing is that when chewed, it instantly produces a surging smell in the mouth, which will make you feel drowsy and tired in a shock.

This taste is called sour.

Particularly very sour.