Father Odin's eyes fell on the two scimitars. His eyes were filled with disdain at first, probably because he looked down on such crude weapons;
But after taking a second look, he immediately frowned, and the confusion on his face concealed his disdain;
He looked back and forth one more time, and couldn't help but utter "Ah" in a low voice:
"Give it to me!"
Solar didn't say anything, and directly put the scimitar into the hand of Odin's father: "You can take your time and watch until you have enough."
Father Odin took the two thunder lizard swords in his hands and weighed them. He waved with the left hand and knocked with the right hand. Instead of dancing the two swords, he tried to adapt to the feel of the two scimitars.
After touching it for a while, the old man handed the two scimitars back to Solar, then stroked his gray beard, which was neither long nor short, and murmured in a low voice: "What a pity."
"But, what a pity?" the werewolf asked curiously.
"The workmanship is very exquisite, and the production is very delicate and careful. The idea of using bones of different hardnesses from the Thunder Lizard to make the core and shell of the sword is also very novel and wonderful." The old man was full of praise for the scimitar: "But, the Thunder Lizard's teeth
It is always just the fang of the thunder lizard. The material is cheap, which directly affects the quality of the weapon itself. It is indeed possible to enchant it and use it as a sharper weapon. But I want to make it a lifetime
The magic weapon of a generation, a celebrity for eternity? ------ Impossible."
Solar put away his scimitar and complained irritably: "Dad, why do you always think in that direction? We don't need some magical weapon that will be passed down from generation to generation and celebrities will pass through the ages. We just need a weapon that is suitable for our hands."
, so that you can survive the next exam."
"Examination?" Father Odin thought for a moment before remembering this: "Oh, that stupid Knights of the Round Table exam, right? You unworthy descendant, you know how to take the knight exam, except fighting.
.The face of the dragon hunters has been completely disgraced by you."
"I don't want to talk about this, Dad." Solar interrupted hurriedly.
"Hmph." Father Odin hummed dissatisfied, and placed the cooled hammer on his right shoulder: "So, how strong should your ideal weapon be?"
Bedivere had been waiting for this for a long time, and took the opportunity to say: "It can be cut with lightsaber-type weapons without breaking."
"A lightsaber? That kind of evil way, a bargain made by randomly assembling parts." Father Odin smiled disdainfully: "It is not easy to surpass the lightsaber in performance. Use the weapons in your hands, and then use them
A little bit of insect slurry, just forge it in the furnace, and it will be hard enough to compete with an ordinary lightsaber."
"Really?" The werewolf seemed to have seen the light of hope, and plucked up the courage to walk out from behind the magic swordsman, and asked his father tremblingly: "So...how much does it cost?"
Father Odin raised a finger.
"One, one hundred million?!" Bedivere almost vomited blood again.
"No. It's a thousand Egyptian coins." Being misunderstood, Odin's father said with a slight displeasure on his face: "I will not make money that does not belong to my own labor. This weapon is only worth a thousand, no matter how hard it is strengthened.
So I’ll just take one thousand.”
In this way, the price offered by my father is actually very reasonable. For one thousand Egyptian coins, you can get a weapon that is as strong as a lightsaber. This is a good deal.
Bediwell pulled out his turtle-tongue whip and lizard-tooth dagger from behind: "If the price of strengthening these weapons is about a thousand yuan, then I leave it to you to strengthen them."
"Haha, what's the deal with this whip?" Father Odin took the whip from Bediwell's hand and looked at it: "It's so strange, it was deliberately made with the tongue tendons of the Nile Giant Tortoise, which has high conductivity.
A weapon? The lethality is not very high, and the workmanship is quite poor. What is the point of a weapon made like this?"
The old man brought his face closer, observing every fiber of the turtle tongue whip almost as if he was smelling it: "Its only advantage is its conductivity. After it is powered on, the three ligaments can exert force on each other to turn the whip."
The whip swings freely like the tentacles of a living thing. It's interesting. But, how do you energize it, and how do you energize each ligament accurately? This is impossible to achieve no matter how you think about it."
In fact, it has been achieved.
Father Odin seemed to understand something and immediately glanced at Bedivere: "Don't tell me that you can generate electricity to control the movement of this whip! I won't believe it!"
"Uh." Bedivere shuddered. Even this secret was seen through by Father Odin. Sure enough, nothing could be hidden from this experienced blacksmith.
"You're right? How is that possible!" the old man sneered doubtfully.
"However, this whip seems to have been soaked in insect pulp once, and it is still the first pulp." The old man began to mutter something to himself that only he could understand, "You have to process this quickly. The first pulp has penetrated
The inside of the whip has been left for too long, and its magic power has begun to solidify in the fibers. If it is not processed quickly, unpredictable changes in properties may occur, and reprocessing at that time will be very troublesome."
Bedivere's face grew long, showing a very confused expression: "Anyway, I didn't understand."
"One thousand." The old man made a price readily: "Without further ado, pay immediately and finish processing this first."
"Okay... okay." The werewolf didn't think much and took out a thousand dollar bill from his pocket. This was originally the money he had brought with him for emergency use, but now he finally spent it in the right place.
Old Man Odin snatched the money away, stuffed it into his pocket, went over and opened a wooden barrel, took out the water bottle on his waist and filled a small bottle of worm jelly, then hurriedly rushed into the house: "Wait outside the house.
, don’t come into my workshop! You will distract me!"
"Okay, okay." Bedivere felt a sense of disappointment at being shut out, but after all, he had to guard the load of goods in the car, and it was not convenient for him to go inside and sit for a long time, so this was just fine.
Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom.
The sound of a hammer being struck came again from the hut. Why a soft and tough whip needs to be struck with a hammer is a mystery. But Bediwell didn't bother to find out, and just sat on a big rock outside the house, waiting patiently.
With.
Cairo is also very cold. The desert terrain lacks vegetation and cannot retain heat, so it is as hot as an oven during the day and as cold as an ice cave at night. This rapid alternation of day and night makes the werewolf almost walk from one oven to another.
In the ice cave, he couldn't adapt to the drastic temperature change and couldn't help but sneeze.
"Please take care of yourself, my friend." Solal advised as he sat next to Bediwell.
"Hmm." The werewolf reached out and rubbed his puppy's nose, then looked at the magic swordsman: "So... you are a member of the dragon hunter clan?"
"Ahem," Solar looked away embarrassedly: "Please don't make fun of me, Mr. Bedivere. I am the last descendant of this clan, and as my father said, I am an unworthy descendant——
--A fool who never learned blacksmithing techniques and only knew how to kill enemies with a sword."
Before meeting Solar, Bedivere thought that the dragon hunters were just an ancient legend. Legend has it that these ferocious humans were active during the ancient human-dragon wars, specializing in killing dragons and using the hunted dragons to
The bones are used to create various legendary [Dragon Martial Arts].
However, as the dragon clan retreated from the world, the dragon hunter clan also disappeared.
Since the world is peaceful, there is no need to hunt dragons; since there are no dragons to hunt, there is no way to create dragon warriors. This mysterious clan that relies on hunting for a living is destined to be buried in the long river of history.
Solar looked up at the dark night sky: "My hometown is in Novi. It is one of the main strongholds of the Dragon Hunter clan. The clansmen built giant sword monuments to commemorate their past glory, but everyone knows it well.
, this clan will soon be destroyed---it will be completely destroyed in my generation, in me."
"I don't understand." The werewolf glanced at Solar secretly: "You are still alive, how could your clan perish? As long as you have more children and reproduce offspring-"
"It's because I can't give birth." The magic swordsman smiled bitterly: "In my great-great-grandfather's generation, the dragon hunter clan had more than 30,000 descendants; in my great-grandfather's generation, this number dropped sharply to 3,000; in my grandfather's generation, the number dropped sharply to 3,000;
In that generation, the tribesmen had realized that there was a problem and began to work hard to reproduce, but they still could not stop the population decline. By my father's generation, we had less than fifty people left. By my generation...the only one
I am the only baby that was born successfully. And I... am also infertile. Even if I can combine with a woman, I can't give birth to a child. Our clan has been sentenced to death."
"You're kidding..." The werewolf covered his mouth and gasped: "How is that possible!"
"It's true." Solar also shuddered: "The fathers have been eager to find out the reason, but everyone actually knows the reason.
In ancient times, in order to better hunt dragons, our family would tame the captured dragons and drink their blood every day, changing their physiques bit by bit.
Because of the power of dragon blood, our tribesmen are not only stronger and have better self-healing abilities, but also have a special sense of smell like dragons and can sense nearby dragons. This provides a lot of convenience for the tribesmen to hunt dragons.
But it also brought negative impacts."
"Is it a matter of infertility?"
"That's right. As our people gain the power of dragon blood, they are also constantly changing their physiques. After several generations of long-term mutations, we have become half-human, half-dragon monsters. No matter what it means to humans,
, or for dragons, we are all aliens and cannot be combined with any race." Solar shrugged: "As a result, it has become like this. Even if we continue to marry and have children with foreigners, dragon hunters
The power of dragon blood within a clan will not diminish, but will become stronger and stronger with the accumulation of generations, weakening our ability to have children. Dragon blood is such a domineering thing.
And I am the last victim of this power. After my death, no more dragon hunters will be born in the world, and this family will truly disappear from this planet."
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