Chapter 26 Chapter 9 Experiment

The night flows into the village like black water in a river.Its gentle water drowns fear and sorrow, creeping around the brick house.The shadows grew thicker, for tonight was a cloudy, moonless night, and one by one the lights of the village were swallowed up by the rising darkness, and almost all of them let themselves be swept away by sleep and sink into the dark depths of dreams . But when the night was thick, when the still waters of sleep were deep, there was still a red light in the furnace, which burned at least one man's sleep and dreams completely. Black curls gleamed with fire, flickering in brown eyes, beating on a cheek that was neither serious nor angry, but only focused and longing.In the flames of the forge, Joram heated the iron ore which he had previously ground as fine a powder as he could in the cauldron, and a mold for a dagger was placed beside the young man, but instead of pouring the molten iron into it, he cast the other A cauldron is removed from the fire.The molten liquid contained within looks like steel in appearance, except for its eerie white-purple appearance.

Joram looked thoughtfully at the second cauldron, his expression despondent, his bushy black eyebrows furrowed. "If only I could know what they mean," he murmured. "If only I could understand!" He closed his eyes, recalling the ancient handwriting on the pages.He could see all the words, he could see the shape of the handwriting, the writing habits, the personal style, the fact that he was too often poring over the pages, but that didn't help at all.These strange symbols appeared again and again in front of his eyes, and the meaning conveyed in them might be another language for him.

Finally, shrugging his shoulders and shaking his head in great disapproval, Joram poured the contents of the second cauldron into the first.He watched the fiery liquid flow into the burning pool of molten iron, pouring on and on until the iron was almost doubled in weight.Then he stopped, stared at the mixture, shrugged again, and poured a little more—just because he thought it was the right thing to do.Joram carefully set the second cauldron aside and stirred the molten mixture, examining it critically.He didn't see anything unusual, was that a good thing or a bad thing?He didn't know, shook his head in frustration again, and poured the alloy into the dagger mold.

It was mentioned in the books that this was too fast compared to the hours of cooldown required, but not fast enough for Joram anyway.His fingers were twitching, wanting to break the mold as soon as possible and see what he had just created.Trying to keep his thoughts from wandering, he took the second cauldron and returned it to its original hiding place: among the usual pile of abandoned, broken tools and other waste in a smithy.Having done this, he walked to the opening and looked out through the crack in the rough wooden door.There was silence in the village, and everyone was asleep.Joram nodded in satisfaction and returned to the furnace.Everything was ready, his hands trembling with anticipation, he opened the boards holding the mold, and broke the mold.

The objects inside bear only the crudest resemblance to the weapon it would become.He lifted it with the pokers, and plunged the object into the flames of the furnace and heated it until it glowed fiery red.Bringing the dagger to the anvil, as the book instructed, raised his hammer, and struck with skill.He hammered it into shape.He acted in a hurry, and wasn't too picky about the configuration of the weapon, since it was just an experiment.Then came the crunch time, and he was very eager to take the next step.Finally, after measuring that the quality of the dagger was good in terms of his needs, he lifted it up with the tongs again.He took a deep breath, then plunged the fiery weapon into a bucket of water.

The steam billowed like a cloud, and for a moment he couldn't see anything, but in addition to the hiss of red-hot iron in the water, there was another sharp cracking sound.Joram's bushy brows were knit together, and he waved his hands impatiently to drive away the smoke.He pulled the weapon out of the water, and all that came up was a broken wreck.He cursed and threw the wreckage into the garbage dump, and when he was about to throw away the pile of useless alloys he made, a needle-like pain from his neck made him turn around quickly. "You work late, Joran," Heisuo said.The sorcerer's face became visible as he stepped into the firelight of the furnace.His hands were clasped in front of his chest according to the standard posture of a law enforcement officer. Otherwise, his whole body was almost like a piece of black night exposed in front of the flickering red furnace.His black robes absorbed the light, even the warmth of the flames.

"This is my punishment." Joram said calmly, he had rehearsed such emergencies beforehand. "I was too careless in my work today, the master ordered me to stay until I finish this dagger." "It looks like maybe you'll be here all night today," said the wizard, his eyes icy over the rubbish. Joram shrugged, furrows of resentment and anger crept into his face like molten iron poured into a mold. "If I don't get on with my work, I'm literally going to be here all night," he said grimly, and made a detour to blow the bellows.He deliberately turned his back on the sorcerer, almost—but not shoving the black-robed man aside with his shoulder.

A fine wrinkle appeared on Heilock's smooth forehead.He pursed his lips tightly, but there was no trace of anger or anger in his voice. "I understand that you claim to have been born of noble blood." Joram was working and muttering, not intending to answer at all, not seeming surprised or embarrassed at all.Heisuo moved in front of the young man to see his face clearly. "You know how to read." For a split second Joram stopped working, but resumed his work almost immediately, the muscles in his back and arms pumping and heaving as he steered the machine, blowing the wind into the coal in the furnace.

"I heard you've been reading." Perhaps Joram was deaf, and his arms continued to move rhythmically without stopping.Dark hair fell forward, covering his face. "An ignorant person who has learned a little bit of knowledge is like a child holding a dagger in his hand. Joran, he may be seriously injured." Hei Suo continued. "I thought you learned your lesson when you committed murder." Looking at the black locks through gaps in the tangle of long hair, Joram smiled as only those dark, fire-burning eyes could see. "I thought you could learn a lesson from that," he said.

"Do you know? You are threatening me." From his calm and steady voice, Heisuo might be talking about the weather. "A boy who wields a dagger. Its sharp edge will cut you, Joram," murmured the wizard. "You really would, if it weren't for you—" Heisuo raised his shoulders. "—that must be someone else. Your friend... what's his name... Mosiah? Does he know how to read?" Joram's face was gloomy, and the regular bellows beat a little slower. "No," he replied. "It's none of his business." "I don't think so." Heisuo said kindly. "You and I are the only two people in the village who can read, Joram, and I think one is too much for us. But there's nothing I can do about it, except melt the eyeballs in your head out."

The wizard's hands finally moved, he opened them, raised them, and stroked the tiny golden mustache on his upper lip.Joram stopped working, his hands still on the handle of the bellows, and stared intently at the flames. Hei Suo approached. "It would really make me sad to destroy those books." Joram was excited. "The old man will never tell you where they are." "He will." Heisuo said with a smile. "In the near future, he will find something to report to me. The reason why I didn't force him before was because it wasn't worth annoying a bunch of people to revolt. If I have to change my approach, That would be a pity, especially now that I have magic." Joram's cheeks flushed, and looked as if they were burning in the light of the searing coals. "You don't have to do that," he murmured. "Very good." Heisuo clasped his hands together again. "You know, we, Duke Xis, know a little bit about these books. For the whole world, it is better for some things written in the books to disappear forever." The wizard stared at Joran intently, and Joran still Stand where you are and stare into the flames. "You remind me of myself, young man," Heisuo said. "And it makes me nervous, I hate those in power as much as you do, believe I'm above them—" There's a hint of sarcasm in his dark voice. "—although I am not of noble blood, I, like you, committed murder without guilt or remorse in order to get rid of those I thought were persecuting me. You like the feeling of power, don't you?" And now you want more power. Yes, I can see it, I feel your burning desire, and I've watched you learn over the past year how to manipulate other people, how to use them, make them go Do what you want. That's how you let the old man show you the book, isn't it?" Joram didn't answer, didn't look away from the flames, but he clenched his left hand tightly. Heisuo smiled, his smile darkened by the firelight. "I've seen the world before you, Joram, and it won't be long before you learn how to deal with the urge that obsesses you. But you're still a boy, and I committed the crime when I was as young as you. The first act of recklessness, and that's what brought it here. Still, there's a little difference between you and me, Joram. The man I wanted to replace didn't sense my ambition, and he relaxed on me Be on guard." The wizard opened his palms and placed one on Joram's arm.Even in the warmth of the furnace, Joram shivered at the bone-chilling touch. "I will be on my guard, Joram, and I will never let my guard down on you." "Why don't you just kill me." Joran said with a sneer. "It's better to be neat with your hands and feet." "Why not." Heisuo repeated. "Now you are of no use to me, although you may be more useful when you are older. As for whether you can live until then, it depends entirely on yourself and those who are interested in you." "What do you mean, 'those who are interested in me'?" Joram looked at him. "The Catalyst Saint." Joram shrugged. "He came here because of you, why?" "Because I'm a murderer—" "No." Heisuo said softly. "It's the law enforcement officers who are after the murderers, not the catalyst saints. Why? What the hell is he here for?" "I don't know," Joram replied impatiently. "Ask him...or Simkin." Heisuo's eyes looked into Joran's inquiringly.The wizard began to say the incantation, his eyes glazed over, his eyelids slowly closed, and he raised his hand to stroke Joram's face.The wizard raised an eyebrow. "You're telling the truth, you don't know anything about the matter, do you? You don't believe Simkin at all besides that, young man, and I'm not quite sure I do, but I can risk this Is it dangerous? What kind of medicine is sold in the Xinjin gourd?" The sorcerer dropped his hands petulantly. Joram felt as if he had just been awakened from a disturbed and fitful sleep, and he blinked, turning quickly around to look around the furnace.Apart from him, there was no one else nearby.