Chapter 236: The Storage Ring Betrays Him
Damian headed straight toward the blacksmith hall, and the moment he arrived, waves of intense heat rushed against his face.
WHOOSH...
The familiar sound of hammering echoed from deeper inside the hall.
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
Several blacksmith disciples nearby turned to look at him. The moment they saw Damian’s bloody appearance, torn robes, and generally miserable condition, their expressions immediately changed.
Before any of them could say anything, however, a tall, rough-looking figure walked out from the inner hall.
Elder Garron.
The old blacksmith took one look at Damian and immediately frowned. "Damian? Why the hell do you look like that?"
Damian coughed lightly and casually straightened his torn robe as though there was nothing particularly strange about his current condition. "I just came out of the Sword Tomb."
Garron blinked.
A moment later, realization finally appeared on his face, and he slapped his forehead. "Oh, right. I forgot about that."
Damian’s mouth twitched. "You... forgot?"
Garron ignored the obvious disbelief in Damian’s voice and looked him over from head to toe. "More importantly, you came directly here after leaving the Sword Tomb?"
Damian nodded as though that should have been obvious. "Of course. I have important business."
Garron stared at him for a moment.
Knowing Damian and the kind of shit this brat usually pulled, the old blacksmith’s gaze gradually sharpened. Before long, his eyes settled on the storage ring around Damian’s finger.
A few breaths later, Garron’s expression changed. "Damn..."
His eyebrows rose slightly as he studied the ring. "Looks like you really got your hands on a lot of good shit inside the Sword Tomb."
Damian froze.
He immediately looked at Garron with surprise. "How do you know, Elder Garron?"
Garron stared at him for another second before suddenly bursting into laughter. "Hahaha! Of course I know!"
He pointed toward Damian’s hand. "That storage ring of yours is way too low-quality. It can barely contain everything inside, let alone properly hide the aura leaking from those weapons."
Damian’s face stiffened.
His gaze slowly dropped toward the storage ring on his finger. "...Fuck."
Everything suddenly made sense.
He remembered all the strange looks he had received after leaving the Sword Tomb. At the time, Damian had assumed those disciples were simply admiring his blood-covered, tragic, yet ridiculously handsome young-master appearance.
Apparently, that had not been the fucking reason at all. "Damn... no wonder those people were looking at me like a pack of hungry wolves."
Garron’s shoulders shook as his laughter became even louder. "Hahaha! Boy, from today onward, your days are probably going to get a lot more troublesome."
Damian’s expression immediately turned ugly.
He had seriously thought those people were staring because he looked cool, battered, and mysterious after surviving the Sword Tomb.
Turns out they were just a bunch of greedy bastards calculating whether they could rob him. "Damn it."
Garron finally calmed down and crossed his thick arms over his chest, clearly amused by Damian’s miserable realization.
"Boy, whatever the hell you gained in there, you’d better hide it properly as soon as possible. Otherwise, sooner or later, some idiots are going to start having stupid ideas."
Damian let out a long sigh and stared down at his storage ring with newfound disappointment. "Elder Garron, I suddenly feel like I desperately need a better storage ring."
Garron gave a firm nod. "You definitely do."
Damian’s eyes immediately shifted toward the old blacksmith.
A familiar shameless look gradually appeared on his face. "In that case, Elder Garron..."
He rubbed his hands together lightly. "Do you happen to sell one?"
The amusement on Garron’s face disappeared by half.
He stared at Damian in disbelief. "You brat. You came here covered in blood, your clothes are half-destroyed, and you still have the mood to bargain with me?"
Damian placed one hand against his chest with an utterly serious expression. "Elder Garron, injuries are temporary."
He paused solemnly. "Business never rests."
Garron stared at him in silence for several breaths.
Eventually, the old blacksmith could no longer hold himself back. "Hahaha!"
His booming laughter echoed throughout the entire blacksmith hall. "Selvara really picked up one troublesome fucking disciple."
Garron waved one hand dismissively. "Alright, alright. We can talk about the storage ring later."
Damian raised an eyebrow. "Later?"
Garron nodded, then looked at Damian’s bloodstained robes and battered appearance before shaking his head.
"You came here looking like you just crawled out of a damn corpse pit, yet your eyes are still shining like you found treasure. That means you’re obviously not here for me."
Damian immediately put on an approving expression. "Elder Garron is truly wise."
Garron snorted. "Save that flattering crap for someone who actually falls for it."
His rough gaze settled on Damian. "You’re here to meet Vulkara, right?"
Damian’s expression instantly brightened. "Exactly."
Garron gave him a look that clearly said I fucking knew it before turning around and walking deeper into the blacksmith hall. "Come with me. I’ll bring you to her forging room."
Damian followed him without hesitation.
The deeper they went into the blacksmith hall, the hotter the surrounding air became. Even with Damian’s cultivation, he could feel waves of heat constantly brushing against his skin.
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
Heavy hammering echoed from the different forging rooms along the corridor, sometimes accompanied by bursts of sparks or muffled curses from blacksmith disciples who had clearly screwed something up.
Dense Fire Qi rolled through the hall like scorching waves, while the metallic scent of heated ore mixed with smoke and sweat.
Garron casually glanced over his shoulder. "I’m also curious about what exactly you’re planning to give that girl."
Damian’s lips curled upward, his expression becoming even more shameless. "Haha. You’ll definitely be shocked, Elder."
Garron let out a rough chuckle. "Heh. I’ve been forging weapons longer than you’ve been alive, brat. Let’s see if you actually have something capable of shocking me."
Damian immediately straightened his back, placed one hand behind him, and lifted his chin like some ridiculously accomplished grandmaster. "Elder Garron, you should prepare yourself properly."
Garron glanced back at him suspiciously.
Damian continued with complete confidence, "Because after today, you might have no choice but to call me the greatest master in the entire world."
Garron’s mouth twitched.
For several seconds, he seemed to seriously consider whether throwing Damian into one of the nearby furnaces would count as disciplining a junior. "Don’t push your damn luck, brat."
Damian merely chuckled and continued following him deeper into the hall, already imagining the expression Vulkara would make once she saw the gift he had prepared for her.