Open Your Quest Log Chapter 208

The elf holy land 'Los Lorin' is too far away.

It is located in the extreme east of the continent, in the deepest part of the Vast Sea Grassland. If there is no teleportation formation, Barrett estimates that it will take him more than a year to reach it. It may be two years, or more, who knows, anything can happen on the journey, and a careless fall will kill you in the deserted wormwood.

Even if it is to take the teleportation circle, reach the border city of the Holy Arathor Kingdom, and then pass through the boundless Vast Sea Grassland, it will take nearly two months, and it is still the most ideal situation without getting lost.

Because there is no teleportation formation in the Holy Land, it is the last pure land of elves.

Moreover, even if he can overcome all odds and reach the Holy Land of Spirits smoothly, it is impossible for the arrogant and conservative spirits to satisfy his request. Barrett estimated that the sharp-eared people wouldn't let themselves touch even a shred of air in 'Los Rollins'.

Alas, this matter has to be considered in the long run.

"Elite warriors always cherish their weapons, I know that." The dwarf blacksmith handed the sword back to Barrett, and waved to the troll who knew how to forge iron next to him, "It can be seen that it is a A good sword, although it looks ordinary, the forging process is not bad. More importantly, it has its own unique soul."

"Soul?" He loved it, but never really thought that a sword would have a soul.

"Yes, this is not a metaphor." The dwarf blacksmith took the glass from the troll, "Although this may sound a little ridiculous, but every good weapon has a different character and inner, just like a poem, a weapon It also conveys its emotions to the user. Believe me, it's true, as a blacksmith who has been beside the anvil for 120 years, I can clearly feel this."

He took a sip of wine and motioned Barrett to sit down, "What's the name of this sword? A good weapon should have its own name."

"Cough, it's called..." Barbarian suddenly felt a little shy, "It's called 'Iron Bride'."

The dwarf raised his eyebrows. "Oh, good name," he said with a smile. Barrett didn't know how much truth there was in those words, "I once met an assassin, a human assassin, what's his name?" The blacksmith patted his head, "Sorry, I forgot. Anyway, , the assassin named his dagger 'beloved'. Every time he finished his job - I mean kill, what else could an assassin do - he would have a good time with his 'beloved', he would use his the 'professional' to water and cleanse the body of the dagger, you know..."

"No, no, I don't have such a hobby. In fact, this name was given by my companion." Barret hurriedly explained, but was stopped by the dwarf blacksmith.

"Hey, don't be nervous, man. It seems normal to me, nothing strange." The blacksmith waved his hand. "On a lonely night, cold steel can sometimes be more fascinating than a fiery opposite-sex body. It can bring people more peaceful dreams and sleep, isn't it?"

Whatever you say, I prefer hot bodies, thought Barrett. The dwarf in front of him spoke very strangely and was a little sloppy, different from the other dwarves he had encountered.

Not getting the response from the barbarian, the dwarf blacksmith was not discouraged. He asked in a good-natured way, "Since this pretty girl is no longer up to her job." He pointed to Barrett's sword, "Then you need to find another A new love? Adventurers always need weapons, don't they. Swords, battle axes, hammers, machetes, whatever you want, I have them here. But I don't sell bows and arrows, and I don't have hand crossbows. , yes, Metal Moan never sells ranged weapons. Don't ask me why, who hasn't ordered special rules yet."

The blacksmith introduced incessantly, "I think you seem to like red iron products." He pointed to the manzi's wristbands again, "I have quite a few here, you can take a look. There are not many people who like this kind of metal. It's too heavy, but you're a strong guy and can wield a red iron weapon with ease. Oh, I almost forgot, it should be called magic iron as you humans call it. You humans like to use the word 'magic', Isn't it? Magic, magic iron, demon beasts, magic wands, it seems that with this word, it will become more powerful invisibly."

"No, thanks, I have my own backup weapon." Barrett shook his head. In addition to the resonant battle axe, he also has a magic sword, which is one of the rewards given to him by the gnome mage. "However, I would like to choose a better shield, if you have one here."

"Ha, a good shield? Of course there is!" The dwarf jumped off the bench, walked towards the back room with his wine glass in his hand, and turned around and beckoned to Barrett, "If one day I don't even have a shield, Gore Stronghammer. Sold, it must be old and not far from death. You know, no amount of sturdy shield can stop the invasion of the years, can it? Time is the best weapon, but it is too powerful for us to grasp, even the mage Not even with the gods. However, everything in this world has something to overcome, even time is no exception. Do you know that there is something that even time can't do?”

"What is it?" Barrett asked in a timely manner, becoming his own role model.

The dwarf blacksmith stopped, turned his head to look at the barbarian, "It's poetry, it's songs, it's those works that can directly point to people's hearts." He said solemnly, "These works will be passed on forever and will be remembered by future generations. They don't even need a carrier, people pass it on by word of mouth, and no amount of time can kill it."

"Oh, so it is." Barrett perfunctory.

The master blacksmith shook his head and didn't say anything, but the expression on his face seemed to say, am I not sick, why are I talking to a barbarian.

He came to the door of a house, "I'll show you a few epic shields I have in my collection, which should satisfy you."

He handed the glass to Barrett, took out a bunch of keys and rummaged, "As you think, blacksmiths always hide their good equipment, waiting for someone to come. I don't know when Who was the first to do this? Anyway, this kind of sales method is very good, and it has become the norm now. You ask me what is a predestined person? Well... In my opinion, it is the kind of person who doesn't look very good. Nasty, rich guy. Yeah, that last bit matters, didn't it?"

Money, he is still very rich, and Barrett is not too worried about it. Although the process of this adventure about 'Dwarf Mage and the Magic Tower' was full of twists and turns, the ending was not bad. At least the little Mage got the right to use a sub-tower as he wished. So Barrett has also been paid quite handsomely.

From the 'metal moan', the sky has gradually darkened.

Barritt stood a little dazedly on the street, watching goblins, trolls, kobolds, ogres, tauren and other species, passing by in front of him politely and quietly like a gentleman. There was even a female drow leaning in the shadow of the second floor of a high-rise building opposite, as if boredly waiting for the night to come.

In contrast, the human beings in the city-state are extraordinarily rude, yes, rude and free.

At this point, it has been nearly a month since Barret stabbed Cerielios in an unnamed space~www.mtlnovel.com~ to obtain the blood of the black dragon.

It is not unreasonable for that black dragon to be called the 'corruptor of all things'. Barrett does not know that even its blood is so corrosive.

The barbarian at that time was poured all over his body with dragon blood, and the dark red blood soaked his leather armor and spread down his neck. His eyes were extremely stinging, and he couldn't see anything. The skin on his body seemed to be soaked in acid, and it began to fester terribly.

The barbarian relied on his strong will and patience to keep himself from losing consciousness in the boundless pain. Immediately afterwards, he heard the cry of the little ghost and others in the sky, and at the moment when the dragon's breath reached his body, he jumped off the dragon's back again.

However, the 'Iron Bride' still stuck in the face.

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