In fact, in addition to superb skills, forging also requires a lot of patience and a strong enough body.
Otherwise, the blacksmith who would fall during this ordeal would have no need to expect any results.
But for Burquesso, forging is just like playing. Like the ongoing material refining, it can be said to be a kind of relaxation?
"The fifteenth piece of metal."
Bulcaisuo silently counted the pieces of metal he had refined.
According to his estimates, the heavy weapon called "Bulkeso's Blood of the Warriors" would require about thirty pieces of metal material.
As for the materials that add magical power, it's not yet time to add them.
After all, forging is never something that can be completed in a short time, and the target of the forging this time is the weapon he wants to use, so he has to prepare more carefully.
The sky gradually darkened during the forging process, and the Supreme Mage did not know when he left this small blacksmith shop.
Maybe she was busy again.
"Guardian of the World? What a great title." Bulkiso said with a mocking tone.
Bulcaisuo also had a similar name, but when facing death, no matter how great and strong he is, he will appear very powerless.
Perhaps the dead can have a chance to defeat death, but Bulkesso has no idea of verifying this.
The food on the table has cooled down. Although it is in a high temperature environment, there is still some heat in it.
But for food like sliced meat and vegetables sandwiched between bread, there is never any particular emphasis on taste.
And the barbarians are not a group that pursues the ultimate delicious food. For them, as long as they can fill their stomachs, it is enough.
With a sound of "Clang!", someone opened the door of Burcasso's blacksmith shop in an almost brutal way. ,
A dark-skinned guy wearing a jacket swaggered in.
"What do you need?"
Bulcasso held the sandwich in his thick palms, making the food look very petite.
As for the way the door was opened, Bulkesso didn't care.
When he was still a recruit, he had to use collision methods to open the strong and heavy wooden doors on the Holy Mountain of Harrogas.
For Bulkesso, breaking the door to enter the room is the most common situation, because most of the time there is only a large group of demons waiting behind the door.
Who cares what the devil thinks? Opening the door politely is even more of a joke.
It was really hard for him to feel disturbed by something like just kicking in the door.
"Barbarian's Hammer? What's the name? Do you have permission to open a shop here?"
This guy spoke in that arrogant tone, and he didn't look like a strong man at all, no matter which world he was in.
This guy was obviously not a guest, Bulcasso had figured it out.
Bulcaisu stood up and was more than two meters tall. His bare arms and muscular muscles covered with scars fell into this guy's eyes.
"So, you're here to cause trouble."
Burcasso stuffed the last bit of food into his mouth, clapped his hands in fear and walked towards this rampant guy.
Since he entered the battlefield, he has never seen anyone dare to challenge him.
Even those hell demons will respect the brave. Being provoked is really a novel experience for him.
When Bulcaisuo's strong, inhuman body walked towards the guy, the guy had already begun to tremble.
This gangster might be a member of some gang, and he might even have a few lives in his hands.
But that experience was not enough to make him fearless when facing the barbarian king, even if he took out his pistol.
"Stop!"
The gangster said with a trembling voice. The pistol was held in his hand like a fire stick. In his panic, he even forgot to turn on the safety.
Looking at Bulkesso, who was two heads taller than him, and his body covered with scars, the gangster began to regret why he didn't observe the situation inside first before uttering evil words.
"Are these firearms? I know about them and am a little curious, but you picked up a weapon and pointed it at me. It cannot be explained by simple provocation."
Taking up arms and facing the barbarians was a declaration of battle.
No matter how weak the opponent is, the barbarian will face this battle squarely.
But whether the barbarians will use all their strength is another matter.
Just like humans in this world would not pick up a gun just to kill an ant everywhere.
A barbarian would not be fully armed to kill a weakling who could not even scratch his oily skin.
"Then go to Malthael and repent!"
Bulcaisel had no interest in the gangster's purpose, nor did he care about the so-called "trouble" that might arise.
In his eyes, the Supreme Mage, the guardian of this world, is just a slightly capable mage, so there is no one in this world who can defeat him.
That big, thick hand waved at the gangster's head, as if it were driving away those noisy flying insects.
Although barbarians are masters of weapons, and fighting with bare hands is definitely not as good as monks who specialize in boxing, this guy is just a weakling who can't even defeat a zombie. This is enough.
Bulcasso's hand fell on the round head, and he heard a muffled sound like a watermelon exploding.
A headless head fell to the ground, blood spreading.
"I'm not good at cleaning, so this is going to be a bit troublesome."
Bulcasso looked at the messy ground and had a headache.
If it were on the holy mountain of Harrogath, the land would contain the body and then return to the world as a force of nature.
But now, he could only lift the body by the collar and throw it into the still burning furnace.
The flames ignited the grease and made a crackling sound, along with the stench that affected the soul.
"Well, it tastes a bit like the offal from hell."
Burcasso bit the tip of his tongue, took a sip of wine and muttered to himself in retrospect.
Then he reached out and dug out a large handful of charcoal ashes from the bottom of the furnace, and sprinkled them on the ground to cover up the blood.
"That'll be fine."
Bulcasso looked at the scene in front of him, which was no different from his perception of cleanliness, and nodded with satisfaction.
"There doesn't seem to be enough food."
Bulcaisel sat on the ground and looked at the burning fire in front of him as he spoke.
Smelling the stench of burning corpses, he began to recall those days when the demons were endlessly killing them.
But the hunger remains.
These days, he's selling absolutely nothing.
The "toys" he forged were all given to those weak mages, and the currency was completely spent by him in the past two days.
"I hope the gold coins I have can be used, at least in exchange for some food."
Watching the fire begin to weaken, a large handful of golden coins appeared in Bulcasso's hand.
The gold coins were bare and had no patterns at all.
After all, in that precarious world, humankind's role in stabilizing currency is enough.
There is no need to put any anti-counterfeiting marks on the coins. When the survival of human beings is a problem, if someone opens a gold mine and mints coins, that can be considered his skill.
In the world of Diablo, the strong naturally have inexhaustible wealth.
The flames were finally about to burn out, and nothing was left of the corpse under the high temperature.
Only the terrible smell in this poorly ventilated blacksmith shop indicated what happened here.
Bulcaisel opened the door and hung a huge iron lock he made on the door.
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 thieves in this world, this lock may be a barrier that they cannot overcome no matter what method they use.
Who can be as powerful as a barbarian?
There is no Crusader profession in this world, and even the power of a monk cannot open this lock.
Then there will be no safer place in the world than using this lock to get to the room, unless those guys use the barbarian method of opening the door.
