The blacksmith's roar exploded across the scene like thunder.
His sturdy, muscle-packed body trembled with emotions too violent to contain, and the hatred and resistance in his eyes almost seemed to solidify.
It was as if the round-faced, prosperous-looking man before him was not a stranger with whom he had clashed over gathering information, but a long-standing enemy.
And what felt even stranger was this:
Even though matters had developed to this point, the onlookers on both sides, who had remained silent since just now, still showed no obvious reaction.
No acquaintances of the blacksmith stepped forward to dissuade him and prevent the situation from escalating beyond control; nor did any mere passersby, worried about being dragged into it, turn and leave.
The atmosphere quietly changed.
If these bystanders could still have been described as "indifferent spectators" before, the cold atmosphere now gradually spreading through the crowd had already gone beyond the scope of "spectators."
Their gazes sharpened soundlessly, their bodies leaned slightly forward, taking on aggressive postures, as if some invisible resonance were spreading among them.
There was no cursing, nor any shouting.
Yet precisely this cold, deathly silence was more suffocating than any clamor.
It was as if the one Horako was arguing with at this moment was not the blacksmith alone, but every resident of Ram Horn Town present.
Xia Nan did not know the full story behind this matter, and it was also difficult for him to judge the true reason the onlookers' attitude had changed so drastically in such a short time.
But when he saw the blacksmith's arm trembling as he slowly raised the Forging Hammer in his hand...
He knew they could not allow the situation to keep developing like this.
As the Guards hired by the caravan, the three Adventurers merely exchanged