Chapter 7: Iron Chisel Master

Dwarf Shanbao are essentially devoid of natural lighting; to judge the passage of time, one must often rely on graduated candles produced by the Lighting Guild.

These candles burn steadily in the windless underground environment, and are designed through precise calculations so that each graduation lasts exactly one hour.

As the candle in the room burned down three large segments, the moon was already hanging high in the sky, and in Snorri's room, two young Dwarfs were burping while facing the sheep bones on the table.

"Cousin, you are so young, *hic*, to have mastered a Master-class Rune; I've read books, and only Grungni and Valaya's own son ever managed that.

I heard the warriors say, they say you received Valaya's divine favor, haha, laugh to death, hahaha! *Hic*, it's been how many years since the Ancestor Gods showed any miracles? If you ask me, you might just be her illegitimate son!"

Balin, drunk, began to talk nonsense, while Snorri propped up his short legs and used a sheep bone as a toothpick.

"This body has one bad thing: it's really inconvenient to cross my legs!" Knowing that an elder might visit at night, Snorri had barely touched the barrel of ale in front of him, whereas Balin was exceptionally excited and had drunk his own barrel dry.

"When the time comes, Cousin, you, you gather a great army, bring, bring a bunch of Hammer Guards, and then, add a few dozen Flame Cannons; reclaiming the fortress and becoming a lord, isn't that, isn't that just a matter of conversation, hahaha!

You surely won't forget me, right? Appoint me to some office; I'm good at finance and internal affairs! Just wait and see how Desini's parents, how they beg me, hahaha!" Balin's imagination, aided by alcohol, had completely taken flight.

"Dozens of Flame Cannons? He really dares to dream; why not just arrange a Skyhammer for me while you're at it! Hmm, counting by Dwarf age, Balin is still a minor; he wouldn't have embarked on the path of a 'face-slapping' novel protagonist at such a young age, would he? Looking at this posture, could there even be a broken engagement plot?"

Although his age across two lifetimes was not considered great, thanks to his rich store of literary knowledge, Snorri still had experience far beyond his peers.

While appreciatively enjoying the drunken remarks of a potential protagonist from an otherworldly broken-engagement template, Snorri carefully listened for any possible sounds at the door.

Finally, he heard the long-awaited knock; he held down Balin, who was unsteady and struggling to go open the door, and moved him to the bed in the inner room, then Snorri pulled open the door.

A Dwarf whose face was shrouded under a hood so it could not be seen clearly slipped into the room.

"Snorri Thorsson?" the Dwarf spoke; one could tell this was an elder, and the wisdom and vicissitudes contained in his voice were not present in the older generation of Dwarfs he had known before.

"Uncle Tiezhuoshugong, er, Master?" Snorri had already guessed the visitor's identity but still couldn't help but ask.

"Ha, then that's correct." The old Dwarf took off his hood, revealing a kind face; his snow-white beard had grown to his knees, and his eyebrows were also almost pure white. Unlike the older Dwarfs Snorri had met before, his face had not been ravaged much by the elements, nor did it bear the scars that many old Dwarfs regarded as medals.

For Dwarfs, who wear heavy armor in almost all units, exposed faces are actually the parts most prone to injury.

The old Dwarf straightened his back and scanned the room, a smile appearing on his face.

"It's been a long time since I came to this level! Back in the day, when I was still a Prince, I lived in the room next to yours for many years; it's been over two hundred years, and still, nothing has changed."

He wrinkled his nose and sniffed, "Ho, roast Rock Sheep and ale, you know how to enjoy yourself, young man! Let me guess, is it Bergman No. 7 or the Corrison Selection?"

Without waiting for Snorri to answer, he began to mutter to himself again, "It seems Thorgrim has indeed done a good job these years; I still remember when I became a Rune Smith, I just split a roast suckling pig with a few brothers and that was it, hahaha!"

Iron Chisel Master was about to continue his reminiscence when Snorri, hearing this, couldn't help but interrupt him:

"When you became a Rune Smith, you ate roast suckling pig with your brothers, but what about when you became a Rune Master?"

The old Dwarf rolled his eyes at Snorri and chuckled:

"You think everyone is like you, favored by the Mother Goddess, able to master a Master-class Rune less than two years after becoming a Rune Smith? I, this Master, have been clever since I was small, and it was only after I turned three hundred that I became a Rune Master; at that time, sigh, better not to mention it!"

Seeing that he had spoken out of turn, Snorri hurriedly apologized.

"When people get old, they talk too much; I almost forgot the real business!" The old Dwarf patted his own forehead, "Come, show me that rune of yours, what was it called again?"

Snorri hurriedly took out the scroll from his bosom and handed it over.

Iron Chisel Master took the scroll and unfolded it; as soon as he saw the rune, he nodded, "Hmm, the intensity of this Winds of Magic is undoubtedly a Master-class Rune!"

He reached out a finger to touch the rune, and Snorri was startled, "Uncle, be careful!"

The old Dwarf's finger touched the rune, but the huge fireball seen before did not appear.

"Rest assured, young man; you must trust in beards and experience! I have forged more runes than you have ever seen!"

Iron Chisel shook his snow-white beard while carefully feeling the flow of the Winds of Magic within the rune with his finger.

"The mechanism of this rune is somewhat similar to the Rune of Wrath and Ruin, but, hmm, the structure of this energy circuit is something I have never seen before. Judging by the engraving marks, it is indeed fresh out of the oven!"

He put down the scroll and turned to Snorri:

"If it weren't for some old fellow who somehow figured out the engraving method for this rune from somewhere, then traveled thousands of miles to Karaz-a-Karak, evaded the patrol's supervision, successfully engraved the rune, and then it just happened to be picked up by you, kid,"

He paused, his smile overflowing his cheeks, "Then I could call you Master Snorri!"

Hearing this, although Snorri had been prepared, he still couldn't help but want to jump up and celebrate; suddenly, he realized something was wrong.

"Isn't Iron Chisel Master here to share his experience in passing the guild audit? Why does it seem like he came to congratulate me?"

With a shift in his thoughts, he suppressed his body's reaction.

"But Uncle, I heard there is still an assessment by our Rune Smith Guild to pass," Snorri said slowly, weighing his words.

"Have some patience, child; don't be in such a hurry to interrupt me. What did I say? I can call you Master Snorri, but I didn't say others could, hahaha!" The old Dwarf gave a sly smile and made a joke.

"You can keep your cool at such a young age; not bad, not bad, you are someone who can handle big things! At your age, hmm, counting it up, you're not even a hundred yet, right? If you heard this news, you'd probably have the invitations for the celebration feast already written!"

Iron Chisel Master was full of praise for Snorri's performance; with such high talent and yet not arrogant, who wouldn't like that?

"Come, let me tell you about my assessment process back then; after I became the Vice President of the Association, I also participated in several assessments. Let's talk about it one by one."

Iron Chisel Master sat down and stroked his beard, preparing to speak, and Snorri tactfully handed over a wine cup.

Just at this moment, only a "Crack!" was heard, and the door that had just been repaired was smashed again!