Chapter 1169 - Excuse Me, Can You Lend Me A Knife Please?

“C-cleaver?” The dwarf assistant was taken aback. Although he had only been with Master Rom for six months, he had already heard many weird requests as he had to receive many customers who were attracted by Master Rom’s fame every day. However, this was the first time he had heard of a cleaver.

“Yes.” Mag nodded seriously before adding, “The kind of cleaver that a chef uses to chop his ingredients when he’s cooking.”

“Master Rom said he was not receiving any customers or accepting any orders today. Please go back.” The shop assistant shook his head. This human chef most likely didn’t know the situation very well. It was usually the powerhouses who came to look for the master to forge a weapon specially for them. Instead, he had requested to forge a cleaver.

“May I bother you to inform the master?” Mag insisted.

The assistant pondered after he saw Mag’s determined gaze. Then, he nodded. “Alright. I will pass on the message, but don’t get your hopes up.”

“Thank you.” Mag nodded.

The lad turned and went in. The interior of the weapons shop was much more spacious than it looked from the outside. However, there wasn’t much lighting in there. There were only two dim yellowish wall lights, which made the interior look quite dark.

A little blacksmith in his teens was standing in front of the furnace, flattening the red iron ore with the heavy hammer in his hand with all his might.

An old dwarf with white hair was sitting on an iron stool in front of the furnace. The pipe that he was smoking was already extinguished, and he was staring at the dancing flames in the furnace with a vacant look.

“Master Rom.” The lad went forward and called him cautiously.

The old man remained dazed for quite some time before he raised his head up, revealing his red bulbous nose. He frowned, and impatiently said, “What’s the matter? Haven’t those irritating fellows scrammed yet?”

“No, they are already gone. However, there is a chef who said he came from Chaos City, and would like you to custom-make a cleaver for him. He wanted me to pass you this message,” the lad quickly said. He peeped at the master’s expression, and he knew he had gotten himself into trouble because of that fellow at the entrance.

“Cleaver?” Master Rom was stunned. Then, as if he had suddenly recalled something, he raised his voice. “You are saying there is a fellow out there who wants me to make a cleaver for him?”

Cold sweat began to trickle down from the lad’s forehead. He suddenly regretted passing the message about making a cleaver for that fellow. He could have just lost the chance to continue working at Master Rom’s workshop. However, he could only nod his head under the gaze of Master Rom now.

“Ha! I learned to forge at the age of five, and I no longer forged stuff like cleavers and hoes since I was eight. I have forged countless weapons for the past 400 years, and they are all considered to be the best of the best, and now somebody is asking me to forge a cleaver? Do they think I am at my wit’s end?!” Master Rom kicked an iron frame at the side over. The iron frame that was full of unfinished weapons fell to the ground, making a din.

The little apprentice put down the hammer in his hand slowly and looked at the shop assistant with a worried look.

The young shop assistant panicked, and he said in a quivering voice, “I… I’ll ask him to leave now.”

“No need! Scram, all of you scram!” Master Rom roared angrily.

“Yes,” both the apprentice and the assistant replied. They didn’t dare to pick up the iron frame, and swiftly walked toward the door.

Mag, who was standing at the half-closed door, could hear the movements in there clearly. He felt rather guilty when he saw the two young lads rush out and close the door.

“Please go. Mr. Rom will not see you.” That assistant gave Mag a complicated look, and then left with the other lad dejectedly. Both of their backs looked desolate.

“Father, why are they not happy?” Amy asked perplexedly.

“They were scolded by their master because of Father. They may even lose their jobs.” Mag looked at their backs, and felt that he should find a chance to compensate them.

Only when their backs disappeared at the end of the street did Mag stop looking at them to look at the ancient workshop.

“Must this cleaver be made by Master Rom, System? Can I change to another expert blacksmith?” Mag asked in his heart.

“Master Rom is the top blacksmith in this world. No one’s forging skills is comparable to his. Only the cleaver he makes can cut through anything and will be able to accompany the Host on his life journey. So, the Host has to get Master Rom to forge the cleaver for him before the mission is considered completed.”

“System, this mission of yours is unreasonable. He looks down on forging cleavers. This is an impossible mission,” Mag said with dejection.

“There will be all sorts of trouble on your journey to become the God of Cookery. I hope the Host will try to conquer them enthusiastically,” the System encouraged before disappearing completely.

“Damn.” Mag rolled his eyes. He went into deep thought, staring at the tightly shut door.

In the blacksmith workshop, Rom stared at the mess on the ground. He took a deep breath before lying in the chair, staring at the fire in a daze.

He had never left this workshop in his entire life. He learnt how to forge from his father at five years old, and he could forge the best cleavers and hoes in Issen Castle when he was six. He started to forge weapons at the age of eight, and it all started from there.

Tian Du sword was forged for a knight who came from afar when he was 20.

He spent one whole year’s time before that sword was forged successfully, and that young knight used that sword to the north of the human territory, rendered meritorious service, and slaughtered many powerhouses. It also brought him the attention of the people on the Norland Continent, and made him a famous blacksmith.

And in the hundreds of years that followed after, he made numerous weapons, and they had become the murder weapons in the hands of the many powerhouses.

He became more and more famous. 10th-tier powerhouses began to line up to ask him to forge their weapons, and the rich and powerful of all the species began to lower their high-and-mighty heads to ask him to make a weapon for them.

Even during the years of the species war, he never left his workshop. He was immersed in forging, giving the powerhouses powerful weapon after powerful weapon, and allowed them to gain fame and notoriety. They gave him the name of “Number One Blacksmith”.

He didn’t know what he wanted, but he enjoyed the feeling of being immersed totally in forging very much. He was even more addicted to the sensation of success when he took the powerful weapons out of the furnace when they were done.

However, when he woke up one morning two years ago, he suddenly couldn’t remember what he had done yesterday. He had even forgotten how many strikes he had struck on that sword he was forging the day before. He also couldn’t remember the number of procedures he had done on it too.

To a blacksmith, this was without a doubt fatal.

He could no longer forge a weapon alone all by himself, but he was unwilling to tell anyone about this.

Therefore, he became frustrated and irritable. He chased away his closest disciples, and no longer accepted new orders. He had not given out a weapon in two years.

The 400 years of lifespan seemed to be coming to an end.

Rom knew this very clearly, but he didn’t want to admit it.

He was willing to collapse on his forging table one day, but he didn’t want to die in a haze.

Right at this moment, there was a knock at the door, and a cute and cuddly voice said, “Excuse me, can you lend me a knife please?”