Huh? Are they all real?.

"Then I suggest you leave the Lion Family's territory as soon as possible."

"Is something really going to happen?"

The girl became increasingly uneasy.

If something happens to a behemoth like the Lion family, someone as insignificant as her could easily be dragged down and crushed.

"I don't know what that lady means yet, but the Lion family's place is definitely not a place to stay for long."

The old lion will eventually have to go to war with the queen.

The Lion family's place is certainly not a good place.

Moen still couldn't figure out what the witch really meant.

But it's not too bad, at least I knew in advance.

When I go to find that old lion's illegitimate son later, I'll see if I can find a chance to confirm it.

Anyway, I'm definitely going to shoot the old lion dead on the toilet!

"Then I'll leave in a bit!"

"Oh, by the way, where is that illegitimate child?"

"He's in a blacksmith shop on the east side. It's a dwarf blacksmith shop, and there's only one dwarf blacksmith shop in the entire East District. It's easy to spot."

"That's no problem."

After nodding, the young girl Leda wanted to leave as soon as possible.

A qualified businessman knows how to avoid risks!

Seeing that she was about to leave, Mo En quickly called out to her:

"and many more!"

"What's up, sir?"

"You forgot to pay."

If you leave in such a hurry, this poor wretch like me will really have to stay and wash dishes to pay off my debts.

It would be best if such an absurd thing didn't happen to the Duke of the Southern Border.

If this story were to be passed down, future historians would laugh their heads off.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'll go pay the bill right away."

Only then did Mo En feel relieved and get up to head to the East District.

He wants to find the old lion's illegitimate son.

To complete another classic reissue.

The old lion deserved to be treated this way, and he deserved this ending.

May the gods protect us!

Chapter 64 Imperial Guards

Just as the young girl Leda said, the blacksmith shop was really easy to find.

This is not only the only blacksmith shop run by dwarves in the east of the city, it is even the only blacksmith shop.

From afar, Moen saw a dwarf diligently pounding away in front of a furnace.

He was clearly human, because he didn't have the dwarf's signature beard.

He was also noticeably shorter.

Clearly, this is the old lion's illegitimate son.

I just wonder if he happens to be named Tyrion too.

Moen paused slightly, remembering a famous character from Game of Thrones.

It seemed that they had noticed the gaze behind them.

The man who was swinging the hammer looked back.

Upon seeing that it was a stranger, he turned back to his blacksmithing and said:

“I’m not a dwarf, just a damn dwarf. If you’re here to do business, then I’ll be a competent blacksmith. The others in this blacksmith shop will be too.”

"But if you're here to laugh, then laugh all you want, and then get the hell out of here, or my hammer won't be used to strike iron, it'll be used to strike your head!"

He really is like a little devil.

It's not about appearance, but about personality.

At least that's what Moen thinks.

Moen smiled and said:

“I’m not here to discuss business, nor am I here to gloat, sir. I’m here to talk about something else.”

"Then get out of here. This is a blacksmith shop. I'm just a blacksmith."

Moen wasn't angry; it was just a pitiful person who had developed sharp edges to protect himself during a long period of torment.

"Sir, what I want to talk about concerns your mother."

The sound of the hammer striking the forged steel stopped for the first time.

The short man turned around, holding a hammer in his hand, even though he was half a head shorter than Moen.

But Moen had no doubt that if he made any disrespectful remarks to his mother, his hammer would break his legs first and then smash his head.

Moen was even certain that this was probably not the first time he had done this.

"You'd better say something nice, or I'll send you to hell to kiss ghosts' excrement."

"I didn't mean to insult your mother or you, but could we find a place to talk?"

"Why should I abandon my work to listen to your mostly pointless nonsense?"

After glancing at Moen, the short man turned back to continue forging his iron.

Listen to the rhythmic tapping sound.

After thinking for a moment, Moen said:

“This is not only related to your mother, but also to your father.”

Moen is penniless now, and the other party is the old lion's illegitimate son, so Moen can't be too blunt in public.

"Get lost, I have no interest in listening to your nonsense."

The dwarf beside him, carrying an iron hammer bigger than his head, walked over and said:

“I don’t know what you’re doing here, long-legged man. But I know Tyrion doesn’t want to deal with you. Go away.”

Looking at the iron hammer the other person was wielding, Moen said with slight surprise:

"Morse Hammer? Your ancestors were once the King of Turin's Royal Guard? And this is the equipment of the second generation of Royal Guard. It was only used for less than three years before it was phased out."

"Even the Kingsguard among the dwarves felt that this design was too cumbersome, despite its immense power. In the brutal battlefield, a heavy weapon is not suitable."

This time, even the dwarves were surprised.

It's not surprising that some people recognize Morse hammers, but it's truly rare to recognize the one he's holding.

After all, this thing was only in service for three years before it was phased out.

"Yes, this was passed down to me by my ancestor, who was once the royal guard of His Majesty the King of Turin!"

What surprised the dwarf even more was what happened after the long-legged man finished speaking.

He actually took off his hat, placed one hand on his chest, and bowed slightly to himself, saying:

"Please allow me to express my gratitude for the bravery of your ancestors in the Valley of Death."

During the Battle of the Valley of Death, it was the King of Turin and his entire Royal Guard who held off the invading army of the Bewilders by fighting to the death.

Because of this battle, Moen had the opportunity to turn defeat into victory.

But in that battle, all of the Imperial Guards except for the King of Turin were killed.

Finally, King Turin personally saw off all the dwarf warriors who had become lost souls.

Moen had no idea how much torment the King of Turin felt that day, killing his own people with his own hands.

But Moen knew that since he had met the descendants of the warriors from back then, he should offer his gratitude and respect.

No further verification is needed; the only dwarf who would possess this Morse Hammer is a descendant of a warrior who participated in the Battle of the Valley of Death.

This game was phased out because it performed poorly in the Valley of Death and all its users died in battle.

The usually rugged dwarf suddenly felt flattered.

He didn't quite understand why this was happening, but he suddenly felt better.

After muttering a few words, the dwarf said to Moen:

"I really don't understand why a long-legged person like you knows all this, but what are you grateful for? What do you have to do with us dwarves?"

Moen said seriously:

“Some things can always transcend time, sir.”

The dwarf was increasingly puzzled, but he also found the long-legged man quite remarkable.

Don't know why though.

But unexpectedly, we clicked.

“Tyrie, this guy seems different from the other bastards. Why don’t you go and talk to him? We have some empty space in our backyard anyway.”

"Bring him a barrel of good wine. You know what I mean and where it is."

Hearing this, the dwarf Tilly gave Moen a strange look before putting down his hammer and saying:

"Since my boss has said so, then come over. But you're really lucky; I've only ever had that boss's drink once."

Moen quickly declined:

"My faith does not allow me to drink alcohol. I'm sorry, gentlemen."

"Ha, the beliefs of the long-legged people are strange. They don't even allow drinking alcohol, what's the difference between that and being dead?"

The dwarves were displeased, but that was all.

Moen probably knew what kind of wine he was talking about.

Moen remembered that the wine was called Lolo wine, and it was brewed from a kind of maggot.

Moreover, it must be brewed using maggots fed with dwarf dung.

It is the dwarves' favorite and treasured possession, and only outsiders who are very pleasing to them can be invited to drink Roro wine.

Moen believed the thing should be clean and hygienic, but he also believed he absolutely could not accept it.

Even Moen himself owns a bottle of Roro wine brewed by the King of Turin, which he keeps in the headquarters vault of the Central Chamber of Commerce.

Fortunately, even the most stubborn dwarves know how to respect other people's beliefs.

Otherwise, whether back then or now, Moen would really be at a loss.

Chapter 65 Stonecastle is the eldest son's gift

After entering the blacksmith's backyard, Tyrell asked Moen:

"Okay, what do you want to say? I hope you can actually say something meaningful."

There was no special hospitality; Tyrell simply brought out two stools for Moen and him to sit down.

This is a stool specifically for dwarves.

To be honest, Moen wasn't used to sitting like that.

"Please make do with this; this is all we have."

"Understandable."