The Dwarf elder ran towards the great furnace, tears streaming down his face.
Refusing to forge was out of the question, impossible in this lifeti; failing to forge was equally impossible. Staking the Dwarves’ centuries-old reputation for crafting and the glory of the Father God, since Garrett had made the request, it must be fulfilled!
No need for gems, no enchantnts required, no demands for gear level or lethality, no specifications for how much a warrior’s burst it must withstand; just various small, intricate tools were requested, albeit with peculiar shapes, high precision, and a variety of complex and detailed...
Crash!
How on earth to forge that long needle!
20 centiters long, with an outer diater of 0.8 milliters and an inner diater of 0.5 milliters! Such a thin, hollow needle was challenging enough to make, let alone ensuring uniform thickness, smooth inner and outer walls, and enough strength to pierce the periosteum without bending!
This was a craft for gnos, not Dwarf work T_T
The old Dwarf clenched his teeth, stamped his foot, and commanded his apprentices to summon everyone! The Elder Council, all the masters and craftsn, must co together! If he must go bald, then everyone must go bald together!
Not just hamrs, not just flas, if necessary, divine magic would be used! Directly pray for the Father God’s blessing, shape the desired items with divine magic!
The Dwarf elder racked his brain, working tirelessly for Garrett. Unbeknownst to him, this opportunity to go bald was thanks to another group, who had already grown white-haired over Garrett’s requests...
"Contact the evaluation committee."
"You go."
"You’re the head of the trade delegation."
"You’re the one in the School of Shaping, a direct disciple of the Lord of Thunder."
"No, my teacher is a disciple of Lord Decar; it’s not easy for
to even see him..."
Theoretically, the sa number of mages who left for the Dwarf Kingdom should return. In practice? Of course, that was not the case!
The mages in the group were no children, possessing both combat capabilities and experience. From the Dwarf royal court to the council headquarters, traveling alone, they could safely make their way back. Even the occasional mishap was considered a natural part of a mage’s growth, an acceptable loss within the council’s tolerance.
Thus, the council’s managent of mages was not as strict as Garrett’s forr country’s managent of diplomatic missions. As long as the trade negotiation tasks were completed, the council didn’t mind a few mbers breaking off for an adventure in the wilderness or sightseeing...
Except for Garrett.
What does a fourth-level little mage need freedom of movent for? Not following the group, can you make it back on your own? Can you ensure your own safety? What if there’s a trap along the way, or bandits, or if the Radiant Church sends assassins, can you protect your own life!
Moreover, Archmage Carlisle had repeatedly emphasized the importance of bringing him back safely!
The Lord of Thunder is watching you...
So, when the Dwarf Kingdom warmly invited Garrett to stay a bit longer to learn the lung cleansing spell, the trade delegation, led by Archmage Serrano, imdiately activated long-distance communication to consult with headquarters:
Reject the Dwarf Kingdom’s request and bring everyone back?
Or leave Garrett at the Dwarf royal court and pick him up later?
Should soone stay behind to protect him, and for how long?
By the way, Garrett has befriended a Silver Dragon, who now sticks to him every day, seemingly never getting enough of watching him cleanse lungs...
With a fizz, several crystals at the edge of a small long-distance teleportation array began to flash simultaneously. One, two, three tis, the magic crystals dimd and shattered, and a jewelry box, perfectly sealed and adorned with constellation patterns, appeared on the teleportation array.
Archmage Serrano carefully opened the lid, lifting out a luminous conch shell and placing it in the groove atop the box. Then, he took out four exceptionally large and pure magic crystals, carefully embedding them at the four corners of the jewelry box.
With the placent of the fourth magic crystal, "click," the constellations on the outside of the box began to light up, one star at a ti, one silver line connecting to another.
When all the constellations on the four sides of the jewelry box were illuminated, the conch shell radiated a pearl-like gentle glow from its center to its mouth.
"This is Nevis City, the highest evaluation group of the council," a slightly distorted male voice accompanied by static noise erged from inside the conch shell:
"I’m Sam. Can you hear ?"
"Commissioner Sam," Archmage Serrano bowed slightly, performing a mage’s salute:
"This is the Dwarf royal
court, I am Serrano. Please go ahead."
"The evaluation committee reviewed your information yesterday." Such long-distance real-ti communication was costly, even for the evaluation committee, making Commissioner Sam’s speech much faster, seemingly rushed:
"The negotiation achieved excellent results, and the evaluation committee appreciates your efforts. As for bringing Garrett back—how is he now? Has he advanced? Or is he preparing to adjust his state after touching the threshold of advancent? Is his ntal strength growing steadily, without any restlessness?"
"No, none of that." The mages of the trade delegation exchanged wry smiles, and Archmage Serrano sped up his speech, answering as concisely as possible:
"All is well, just no advancent, and he is not in a hurry. Recently, he’s busy teaching the Dwarves treatnt thods, not seeming to care about anything else."
"And the Silver Dragon?"
"Very interested in him and quite friendly. These past few days, she has been by his side, showing no impatience."
"The age and combat power of the Silver Dragon?"
"She hasn’t reverted to her original form, so it’s difficult to estimate. But in her elf form, her combat power is roughly between level eight and nine."
A mont of silence from the other side. Suddenly, the conch shell’s shell vibrated intensely, and a series of scraping chair noises, accompanied by the respectful salutations of mages:
"Lord of Thunder."
"Lord of Thunder."
"Your Excellency—"
He ca personally? Archmage Serrano reflexively stood up. Although he couldn’t see the other side, the mages around him also stood up, bowed their heads, and stood at attention:
"Your Excellency, we welco your arrival—"
"What’s the na of that little Silver Dragon?" the Lord of Thunder abruptly asked. Archmage Serrano was taken aback but quickly responded:
"Seraila. Seraila Munlaite Flisgrit."
"Shimring light..." A low hum ca from the other side. Archmage Serrano focused and held his breath, daring not to speak, and the others were even more silent. After a mont, the conch shell inside suddenly emitted a sharp, piercing blast, the sound shrill, making everyone cover their ears:
What’s going on!
What happened!
Did they start fighting on the other side?
Or was it because they called the Silver Dragon’s na, and the other party attacked?
A long silence. If not for the slight "fizz" noise inside the conch shell, Archmage Serrano almost thought the communication tool was broken, or the other side had closed the communication. He forced himself to take a deep breath, then another, and listened carefully, finally hearing extrely faint, rapid breathing sounds from inside the conch shell.
Good, the council is safe, the evaluation committee is safe. Archmage Serrano let out a sigh of relief, exchanging glances with his colleagues, not hiding their shock:
Good thing they asked for instructions. The rumors were true, the Lord of Thunder’s exceptional concern for Garrett was no lie. With such a commotion, could it be that the Lord of Thunder crossed thousands of miles to find the Dragon race directly?
"Squeak—"
Another screech. Then, the pearl-colored inner wall of the conch shell suddenly brightened:
"Activate the teleportation array!"
"What? Ah! Understood, right away!"
Archmage Serrano wiped his space bag, extracting four small magic crystals and embedding them in the power slots of the teleportation array. The small long-distance teleportation array imdiately shone brightly, and when the light dimd, a palm-sized, deep brown wooden box lay quietly at the center.
Archmage Serrano gasped. The box looked inconspicuous, but the wood used was shadow yew, a special plant from another dinsion with strong magic wave shielding capabilities. To use it for transferring items...
What was inside the box? Magical equipnt? Or a one-ti teleportation item? How powerful was it? What level of magical item required a shadow fern wood box for safe transfer through the teleportation array?
"Hand this box to Garrett." The other side, the Lord of Thunder, ordered succinctly:
"Then don’t worry about it, just co back as planned. If Garrett wants to stay in the royal court, let him stay. The Silver Dragon... heh!"
"...Yes!"
Archmage Serrano didn’t even open the box, directly handing it to Garrett. The trade delegation thus departed, leaving Garrett in the Dwarf royal court, lost in surgeries and unaware of the day. His only headache was the endless stream of questions from the Dwarves:
"Back up! Wash your hands again! Dress again!—What about the aseptic principle! Your hands aren’t clean, you’re killing your kin!"
"Slow down the growth of the vine! Slower! If you’re not sure, use
the Arcane Eye to guide you slowly!—Idiot, you went through the wrong door!"
"The middle part of the vine swells!—Stop! The swelling should be a bit lower! At your position, the water will still pour into the other lung!"
"Don’t panic, it’s just hypoxia! Drain the water, blow oxygen into the other lung!"
"Ah... so boring..."
Don’t doubt, this wasn’t Garrett, but the Silver Dragon girl, bored out of her mind. The first ti she saw lung cleansing, her eyes sparkled with curiosity, almost wanting to dive into the Dwarves’ lungs; the tenth ti she saw it, she was eager to try; the twentieth ti...
"Garrett, these Dwarves are so dumb! They can’t learn this simple task! Let
do it!"
"Don’t ss around..." Garrett stopped her with a wry smile: "What use is it if you learn? You can’t possibly stay here forever to treat them. If these Dwarves learn, they can benefit their kin!"
"Hmph! Boring!—Garrett, you promised to tell
why there’s electricity in the heart, when will you explain it to !"
"Just wait... just wait..."
Garrett could only smile bitterly. Seraila turned and left:
"Hmph! Boring!"
Her departure ant she was absent for two to three days straight. Just when Garrett thought she had gone ho, the girl stord in, grabbed Garrett, and dragged him outside:
"Have you finished teaching yet?—Co with , we’re going to work on the heart!"
"Wait, wait! Let
teach them for another month!" Garrett struggled:
"Half a month! Ten days!... Seraila, why do you sll like blood?"
"Ah!"
Seraila let go and fled.
This unexpected discovery bought Garrett another half a month. After half a month, the Silver Dragon girl, out of patience, still dragged Garrett on a journey.
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