Raising all of humanity: Starting with a backyard pool world

Chapter 37 [The Pact of Frost and Fire, the Proof of the First King]

Lin Qi dragged his body along, and the outline of the distant black stone watchtower gradually became clearer.

He finally reached the bottom of the watchtower's steps, then his body gave way and he collapsed forward.

The heavy, sturdy wooden door was pulled open from the inside, and the patrolling dwarf warriors discovered the uninvited guests in the snow.

"An orc?"

"He's still alive!"

Several dwarf warriors immediately rushed out, raising their battle axes and heavy hammers, and surrounded Lynch.

Their beards were thick and stiff, their muscles were bulging, and their iron armor reflected a cold, icy light in the wind and snow, forming a high wall of steel and muscle.

"It's those scum spies from the south!" A bearded dwarf commander stepped forward and kicked Lynch in the body.

"Kill him." The commander's attitude was relatively indifferent.

The surrounding soldiers raised their weapons.

Lin Qi barely opened his eyes, his consciousness swirling in the dizziness of blood loss.

His survival instinct made him grip the battle axe that he never let go of, which emitted a faint, pulsating energy.

In contrast, a scorching heat surged from the depths of the watchtower, carrying a strong smell of coal ash and metal.

The battle axe in Lin Qi's hand reacted to this, and the ancient patterns on the axe surface lit up with a faint silver-purple light.

The light flashed and disappeared, but was caught by an elderly dwarf who came out of the tower.

The old dwarf's hair and beard were already white, and his face was etched with the lines of time. He wore only a simple leather apron, its surface stained with oil and scalded with the marks of years.

"Wait a minute." The old dwarf spoke, his voice hoarse with the typical characteristics of his age. He pushed through the crowd and walked up to Lin Qi.

After getting closer, she ignored him and instead focused her gaze on the battle axe.

The commander frowned. "Master Brok, this is an orc."

"I saw it." The old blacksmith Brock squatted down, stretched out his calloused hand, and without touching the battle axe, he only felt the strange fluctuation that had not completely dissipated.

"But this axe... it speaks a language I've only ever seen on the oldest scrolls."

He raised his head, a strange light flashing in his cloudy eyes. "With the mountains above, I need to verify something."

The commander wanted to say something more, but Brok's status among the dwarves was clearly extremely high.

"Take him to my workshop," Brock said casually as he stood up. "And this axe too."

Two dwarf warriors stepped forward, roughly lifted Lynch up, and dragged him into the warm but stuffy watchtower.

The Forge, the heart of Blackrock Watchtower.

A huge furnace burned in the corner, its roaring flames illuminating everything around it.

The walls were covered with all sorts of tools and weapons, and the room was filled with the smell of heat and sweat.

Lynch was thrown onto the cold stone ground, and his consciousness returned somewhat.

Brock directed several apprentices to carry out a huge shield from a corner of the workshop.

The shield was once a masterpiece, but now its surface is covered with vicious claw marks, a third of the shield surface is severely deformed, and there are even several deep cracks on the edges that expose the bone.

"This is Commander Thorin's 'Oath of the Bastion,'" Brock said, pointing to the shield. "It was destroyed a few days ago in the battle against the Frostsaber."

"Its material is an alloy that is a mixture of black iron and volcanic crystal cores. Any subsequent forging will only damage its overall structure."

The old blacksmith turned around and stared at Lin Qi. "An impossible repair, isn't it?"

Lin Qi did not answer, but just breathed heavily, feeling the excruciating pain from the wound on his side.

Brock didn't expect an answer; he pointed to the battle axe that was standing to the side.

"Now, I want you to use that 'relic' in your hand to prove your worth."

"If you can repair it, I will vouch for your safety here as a rune blacksmith."

"If you can't do it..." Brock paused, the only sound in the workshop being the crackling of the furnace.

"You'll go to the mines and work as a laborer for the rest of your life, until you die."

The commander and several dwarf warriors let out mocking chuckles.

Talking about repairing legendary weapons in front of a dwarven rune blacksmith is a joke in itself.

What's more, the target was an orc.

Lin Qi leaned against the wall and struggled to his feet. He walked forward and picked up his battle axe.

Within his body, the medicinal effects left over from that special plant slowly repaired his injuries, but this was merely a drop in the ocean compared to the severe damage inflicted by the Frostblade Bear.

I had no other choice.

He walked up to the broken shield, stretched out his left hand, and pressed it against the shield's cold surface.

Then, he raised the battle axe in his right hand.

He closed his eyes and focused all his thoughts on the axe.

Perhaps, this divine weapon is more than just destruction and slaughter...

Since this old man who looks like a blacksmith set this test, it means he must have figured out the tricks of the axe.

As he was teaching himself, Lynch did as before, using his will to manipulate the power of the axe.

Lynch envisioned a tire being easily disassembled into its various parts and then reassembled.

The axe changed, shimmering with a faint light, and he placed the axe blade on the most severely damaged crack in the shield.

A strange vibration emanated from the point where the axe blade and the shield made contact.

All the dwarves present instinctively took a step back.

The indestructible alloy shield was extinguished by the light touch of the axe blade.

The damaged parts, the twisted metal, the jagged cracks, began to crumble.

They broke down into handfuls of shimmering, metallic-looking sand, like a swirling, colorful nebula suspended in mid-air.

The expressions on the faces of the dwarves around him, including Brok, changed from mockery to astonishment, and finally to blank stares.

Their understanding of forging was shattered by this scene that could not be explained without divine intervention.

Fine beads of sweat appeared on Lynch's forehead. Controlling this power was far more mentally taxing than simply swinging his sword.

His will extended through the battle axe, enveloping the suspended metallic particles.

Analyze its structure.

Understand its proportions.

Then...reshape.

The nebula of particles reassembled in a way that defied common sense.

The particles found their perfect positions on their own, fitting together seamlessly to fill the gaps in the shield.

The cracks disappeared, and the twisted surface became smooth as a mirror.

The huge gash torn open by the Frostblade Bear's claws grew back in a soft light.

The whole process lasted a few moments.

When the last metal particle returned to its place, all the light faded away.

One side of the "Oath of the Barrier" stands intact, even smoother and more textured than before.

Lin Qi released the battle axe, his body went limp, and he knelt on one knee, panting heavily.

Brok stepped forward, trembling, and stroked the perfectly reconstructed shield again and again with his aged hand.

Feel the surface that is perfectly formed, without a single seam.

"A miracle...this is truly...divine craftsmanship..."

The shock on his face was gradually replaced by a fervent devotion.

The next second, to the disbelief of all the dwarves, the highly respected rune blacksmith knelt on one knee before the weakened orc with the oldest and most solemn ceremony.

He picked up the shield and held it high above his head.

"The Heart of the Mountains... is above."

"Your will has been proven to us through this visitor from another race."

"He is the one chosen by the Heart of the Mountains."