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The tundra is the Land of Lawlessness, the home of monsters. There are no laws and authorities here, only merciless cold temperatures and cold winds. It was only half a day's journey from Qianfa City to the molten iron pit, but Curt and the others encountered four attacks. Countless hungry monsters roam the wind and snow, searching for living creatures and carrion to feed their stomachs.

When a dwarven patrol came into view, Curt wanted to thank the heavens. The cold wind had been blowing for too long, and his cloak was covered with a thick layer of snow.

More than half of the dwarves on the patrol knew Curt, so he quickly sent the four frozen men to the fire. In the stone house dug out of the mountain wall, Curt felt reborn. His limbs melted in the warm light of the fire, and the other three looked drowsy.

Then the dwarf Hoffman rushed in - he was sweating profusely, his upper body was exposed, and his hairy chest was exposed, and it looked like he had run out of the mines. Hoffman swaggered up to Curt and said in a roaring voice:

"Yo, spell-playing imp, welcome to my hometown. What do you want to drink? The rye wine from the molten iron pit is famous, and it only takes one cup to pour the snow ape and make it spit out all the bile. ”

"If you have hot milk, please give me a glass, thank you. ”

Hoffman searched for a long time, and finally came back with a barrel of light ale. He affirmed that it was the lowest alcohol drink, and then scooped a large glass of water for everyone, including himself. Curt reluctantly took a few sips of wine, and then began to talk to Hoffman about the purpose of the trip.

"How much is a hundred kilograms of pure steel, plus ten kilograms of mixed steel doped with secret silver?"

Curt's straightforward question made Hoffman frown and tease his beard for a long time. Under Curt's gaze, Hoffman gave a displeased expression. He took a long sip of his beer, then blushed and said:

"You don't want much, spell-playing imp. And you're a friend of the dwarves, and I originally wanted to give you as a gift for nothing. But Mithril is a rarity, and I can't even find enough Mithril to make an axe...... In this way, pure steel is two gold coins per kilogram, and I don't charge money, so it's a gift for you. One hundred gold coins a kilogram of mixed steel, which has been discounted by nine percent, is definitely not a bargain, even if I pull out my beard. ”

"No problem, one hand to pay, the other hand to deliver. ”

Curt nodded cheerfully, knowing that Hoffman had taken out the reserve price. He patted Hoffman gratefully, then pulled out a drawing of a sniper rifle from his bosom and placed it on the table. Curt pointed to the various strange parts drawn on the drawings and asked the wide-eyed Hoffman:

"How much does it cost to make a set of mixed steel? And I want to buy some high-quality gunpowder, can you provide it?"

"The stone is on top, you're going to kill our craftsman...... What the hell is this? Is it the new Ming of the dwarfs? Those beardless cowards love to toss around. ”

The dwarf is an optimist who likes Mingchuang zào, and is about the same height as a dwarf, but not as burly as a dwarf. Curt, who had no intention of explaining the origin of the drawings, urged Hoffman to make an offer, and in the end Hoffman could only say with little certainty:

"I can help you find half a dozen top-notch craftsmen, that's enough for them for a week. The employment fee is 500 gold coins per person, and I definitely don't take a cut. The purest black powder is a tael of hardware coins, how much do you want?...... What?!A bucket?!That's a whole ten kilograms!You've traveled all this way to entertain me?Or are you going to go back and blow up the council hall in Thousand Laws?!"

Hoffman yelled at Curt, who was larger than the barrel, and looked like he wanted to throw the glass over. Fortunately, Curt took out two general bills of exchange in time, and the denomination was enough to pay all the expenses and find it.

"The extra gold is yours. I like to trouble my friends, but I hate to make them suffer. ”

Curt made a sincere statement, and at the same time pushed the bill of exchange in front of Hoffman. Hoffman, who had quieted down, hugged his head, and after a long time, he whispered:

"Okay, okay, I'll take care of everything for you. You bastard who deserves a thousand hammers, no wonder the elder said that mages are not good things, and none of them are easy to deal with. ”

Hoffman then ran around with Curt. He jumped up and down, sometimes spitting and bargaining with the other dwarves, sometimes looking at the goods in his hands with a critical and stingy gaze. Kirt has to admit that Hoffman was a brilliant businessman and a seasoned ore expert. If it weren't for Hoffman's leadership, I'm afraid Curt wouldn't have been able to contact so many supply channels in a month.

When night fell, Hoffman buried his face on the table, exhausted. From time to time, he got up to take a sip of his wine and cursed Curt a few more words. Otherwise, there is no strength to do anything else.

Curt had an extra hundred kilograms of pure steel in his dimensional waist bag, as well as several work contracts for top craftsmen. He drank with Hoffman for a while, until he let out an earth-shattering snort. Curt then got up and walked to the door, and said to Gordon, who was leaning against the doorframe:

"What's wrong, you have questions?"

"You were commissioned to come here to buy a hundred kilograms of pure steel, and to cut off the head of the patriarch of the brown bear tribe. If those big deals are your private business, then I'm a little worried about whether you have other arrangements. Please let me know first, if any. I'm a mercenary who wants to eat with my head saved, not cannon fodder ready to sacrifice at any moment. ”

"If there is any unexpected surprise, it will not be your turn to fight. ”

Curt smiled and turned his gaze to Kelly and Cameron, who were looking at him. He looked around at the three questioning companions, and then swore solemnly:

"Tomorrow morning we will go out in search of the horde of barbarians. Once the patriarch of the Brown Bear Tribe is killed, the job is over. I swear in the name of Mystra, the goddess of magic, that I will not force you to do anything when the time comes. Our contract will end on time, and we will be paid no less than one copper coin. ”

Gordon, Kelly, and Cameron exchanged glances and breathed a sigh of relief. What made them feel in danger was a barrel full of black powder, enough to blow the small mountain to the ground. Although they didn't know what the black powder was for at the moment, if Curt really had some earth-shattering plans, they had no intention of accompanying them.

In the early morning of the next day, greeted by the rising sun, Curt embarked on a journey. Hoffman was at the forefront of the song in praise of the god of forging, and his spirit was too good to be described as excessive. -- When he heard that Curt was going to deal with the barbarians, Hoffman was overjoyed and insisted on intervening. And once the stubborn dwarves decide to do something, not even the dragons can make them change their minds.

There was nothing to say all the way, except for Hoffman singing old songs over and over again. His blood was boiling and his spirits were high, and he did not close his mouth until he received an axe on his head.

When the axe slammed into Hoffman's helmet and bounced off, six or seven savages rushed out. Since Curt and the others wore long cloaks, they were treated by the barbarians as a troop of dwarven merchants.

Usually, the guild will bring a good bodyguard. But there were only five people in Curt's party, and the number was pitiful. Therefore, the barbarians are confident that they will be able to win, after all, they are experts in fighting in the tundra. Whether it is vigorous skills or rich combat experience, it is not comparable to ordinary soldiers.

Half a minute later, a total of eight savages, including a barbarian who had come up from behind, lay down on the ground. Some of them were shot by bows and arrows, some were charred by lightning, some had their necks cut off by swords, and only two were still alive. One of them was beheaded by Hoffman, and was rolling on the ground with his axe-cut leg. The other was knocked unconscious by Kelly with the hilt of his sword, and finally survived unflawed.

"How dare you throw something at my head with a stone! I [beep-] your mother's! [beep-] your mother's! Your great-grandmother didn't fucking teach you not to hit a dwarf on the head?"

Hoffman thundered and swung his axe at the wounded barbarian, so that there was only one left alive. Curt thought for a moment and called Cameron over.

"Whatever you want, as long as you can ask where the camp of the Alpine Barbarians is. ”

Satisfied with Curt's order, Cameron walked over to the unconscious savage, slowly drawing his dagger that he had never used. In less than ten seconds, a terrible wail reached Curt's ears. Cameron sliced the barbarian's fingers vertically with the blade of his sword, peeling the flesh to the sides little by little.

Curt had to admit that the barbarians were quite tough. But ten minutes later, the willpower of the POWs also came to an end. He was dissected almost alive, but still lived for a whole day. Cameron's methods of torture were very professional, and he repeated complex issues over and over again while torturing the barbarians. It wasn't until the answer had been answered a hundred times by the broken barbarians that Cameron was willing to believe it.

"This guy is an expert, and the executioners of the Thieves' Guild are no more than that. ”

Kelly whispered to Curt, unable to hide her shaky voice. She had seen many cruel things, but the scene in front of her still shocked Kelly. Curt nodded thoughtfully, and reached out to wrap his arms around Kelly's slender waist.

Kelly struggled for a moment, then complied. She has her fragility, and she can't be strong all the time.

"The stone is on it, this thing is a skinner. ”

Hoffman stroked his beard and spoke in disgust. After a while, he could no longer stand Cameron's senseless continued torment of the barbarians. So Hoffman picked up the axe, rushed straight over and slashed it several times. The barbarian died in an instant, and his expression of relief floated. Cameron, whose face was splattered with drops of blood, raised his head, stared at Hoffman with one eye and said:

"My friend was tied to a pillar by them and roasted to death over a slow fire. ”

"Then you will also be a barbarian!"

Hoffman roared angrily at Cameron, ignoring the other man's slow removal of his longbow.