The past was built upon collecting unique characteristics.

The following day at noon, the sunlight of Bet City fell on the bedroom bed, and tiny dust particles floated slowly in the beams of light.

After a full night's rest, Morian felt that most of the fatigue from last night had dissipated.

He quickly got up, washed up, changed into his usual light shirt and trousers, and opened the bedroom door to begin his day's schedule.

The living room floor was still a complete mess, as it hadn't been cleaned at all the night before, but Morian wasn't in a hurry to tidy it up and immediately walked out of the office.

My gaze fell directly on the brass mailbox on the wall to the right of the door. Sure enough, a corner of an envelope was peeking out from the crack in the mailbox lid.

I sent out the letter yesterday looking for a blacksmith, and I didn't expect to receive a reply this morning.

Earl White is quite efficient; he replied so quickly.

Slightly surprised, Morian stepped forward, opened the mailbox, and took out the letter.

The mailing address was written in the lower right corner of the letter, next to which was the White family crest, a white dove symbolizing peace.

Upon opening the envelope, besides the letter, there was also a slip of paper with a simple map drawn on it, indicating the location of the workshop. The contents of the letter were also very simple and clear.

Earl White recommended a highly skilled old blacksmith who ran an unassuming workshop deep in Blacksmith Lane in the old town of Bet.

According to the letter, the blacksmith was highly skilled, especially in handling spiritual materials, and had his own unique insights into forging, which earned him the praise of his regular customers.

The old town? Morian thought for a moment and remembered that area.

That was one of the earliest areas established in Bet City. As one of the first industrialized areas, it was built on a natural hillside with buildings of varying heights and a great difference in elevation.

The narrow alleyways were also crowded with blacksmith shops, carpentry shops, and all sorts of strange and unusual craft shops.

Unless there is a special need, very few people will go there, because the terrain is complicated and the air is filled with the smell of burning metal all day long, with heavy hammering sounds continuing from dawn to dusk.

To put it bluntly, ordinary people really couldn't withstand that environment.

"Then let's go take a look..." Morian carefully put away the letter and map.

The living room repairs can be postponed; the most urgent task right now is to acquire a reliable weapon as soon as possible, so that we have the confidence to face danger.

The royal family only has a week to consider that commission, so we must do our best to improve our strength during this time.

He casually pulled a chair to the dining table, hesitated for a moment, then turned and walked towards the cupboard, ultimately choosing black tea over coffee.

Then Morian went to the food cabinet in the corner of the kitchen, took out a piece of ham that was still half full, and skillfully cut off two thick slices of meat with a knife. He then took out the bread and bacon that he had bought in advance and placed them on the plate.

Spread a thin layer of jam on the bread and pair it with freshly brewed hot tea, and a simple yet satisfying meal is ready.

It was actually close to noon, and the ordinary residents were already preparing for lunch, but the detective's irregular schedule meant that his "breakfast" was just beginning.

After a quick, belated breakfast, Morian changed into a light, dark coat, dressing very casually.

He then carefully placed the "Key of Caius" and the seven-colored crystal into his inner bag, and then fastened several bottles of commonly used potions and the ordinary dagger to his waist.

After he was ready, he locked the office door and stepped into the street where the midday sun was warm.

The buildings in the old town are mostly low and old, with walls covered in stains accumulated over the years and black mud filling the cracks. There are no stone slabs here, and the roads are all dirt roads, so many residents also call the old town the "Black Mud District".

Because the terrain extends from the flat land to the hillside, the upward passage is basically a simple wooden staircase. Some of the planks are rotten and damaged, so people can only walk on the mud.

As its name suggests, the narrow alleyway is lined with shops related to metal processing.

The reason for this is that it was originally a sizable steel processing plant. After it went bankrupt, many skilled workers started their own businesses here, gradually forming this gathering place for craftsmen.

Following the map, Morian navigated the maze-like alleyways, avoiding workers carrying heavy materials and women squatting and busy washing clothes, until he finally stopped in front of a low, single-story stone house deep in the alley.

The shop's facade was simply marked by a wooden sign that read "Walker Forge." Unlike other shops, the door was not open to attract customers, and there were no fancy decorations.

According to the Earl of White's letter, the shop's owner was a senior blacksmith with an extraordinary destiny of "divine craftsmanship".

Even the most skilled blacksmith, with the finest spiritual materials, can only forge a weapon of exceptional quality.

However, blacksmiths with extraordinary abilities are different. They can integrate their own spiritual essence and abilities into the forging process, adding extra "attributes" or special effects to the finished weapon.

The destiny of "divine art" seems to be born for this purpose. Those who possess this destiny will become adept at whatever they do, whether they are blacksmiths, carpenters, painters, or sculptors, and may even be able to give their creations extraordinary effects.

Morian took a few steps forward and knocked three times on the door.

knock!knock!knock!

no respond.

I knocked three more times, this time with a little more force.

Slow footsteps sounded from inside the door, approaching from afar, and then a wrinkled face with a white beard peeked out.

He was an elderly man who looked to be around sixty years old. His hair was gray and messy, but the muscles in his arms were clearly defined, making him appear very strong. His eyes were unusually bright.

"Are you here to forge items?" The old man's voice was hoarse, as if he was a little impatient to be disturbed.

"Good morning, Mr. Walker." Morian took out the letter that had been sent that morning and showed it to him.

"I have come to visit you on the recommendation of Earl White."

The old man named Walker's gaze lingered on the letter for two seconds. He didn't ask to open it, but instead mumbled something, opened the door, and slowly turned and walked back.

"Come in."

Upon hearing this, Morian stepped inside and casually closed the door behind him.

The workshop interior appears much more spacious than the exterior, but the space is cramped due to the various materials piled up all over the floor.

Several tall shelves stood against the wall, displaying various metal ingots, ores, and even some strange materials that Morian couldn't name.

In the center of the room was a huge forge made of stone bricks, with its mouth open and a raging fire burning. Next to the forge was a heavy anvil and various forging tools.

It's so hot... This environment and temperature are unbearable for ordinary people... Morian felt the heat wave hitting him, and beads of sweat immediately appeared on his forehead.