Blackhand

Ever since that incident, Blackhand had looked at Solam with a sour expression, though Solam didn't mind it at all. After all, anyone who lost so miserably wouldn't give Solam a pleasant look. Besides, the old man Blackhand was just nursing his wounded pride; he didn't truly hate Solam. A real man knows how to accept a loss when he bets, and in Solam's eyes, this old guy was actually quite endearing.

"Tsk... this craftsmanship, only you, Master Blackhand, could pull this off. If it were me, even with all these rare metals, I couldn't make it this good."

Old man Blackhand's temperament was actually quite interesting; the moment he heard Solam's praise, his mood shifted from overcast to sunny, and he beamed with joy.

"That's right, don't you forget who I am. I am the famous Master Blackhand! With so many rare metals, it's not easy to distinguish the right fluxes, let alone master the technique of smelting them into an alloy. Only I, Master Blackhand, understand that. You've still got a lot to learn, kid." These rare metals wouldn't even melt in lava, which showed just how high their melting points were. To melt them, one needed special fluxes, and each metal required a different one; some even required the assistance of spells to liquefy.

Ever since Solam arrived at the Forge Clan two years ago, besides learning elemental shamanism from Blackhand, his most important task had been learning smithing. And it had to be said, Solam had quite a high talent for it. He even used knowledge from his past life to invent some new forging methods, though he still couldn't compare to Blackhand when it came to the knowledge of rare metals.

"Hmm... this axe you're forging is not bad. Your technique is really starting to show some polish. But you even added Fire-Pattern Steel? You're certainly generous. Though, if you're giving this to a child, isn't it a bit too dangerous?" The old man looked at the nearly finished battle-axe on the anvil. Fire-Pattern Steel was a rare metal, and naturally, it was one of the old man's collectibles. Its yield was extremely scarce, and adding even a little to a weapon would cause it to ignite when swung with force. It was indeed a bit dangerous for a child.

"It's fine. His parents can keep it for him until he grows up. His birthday is coming up soon, and I haven't seen him in two years. If I don't bring him something good, he probably won't want to talk to me anymore."

"You're so good to your brother, so why are you so ruthless to your teacher?" The old man sounded a bit annoyed. "You can give gifts, but what's the deal with using my stuff to do it?"

"Heh, that's a bit unfair. I told you I didn't want to bet, but you insisted on pestering me into it. Now, you're blaming me?"

"You... fine, fine. Master Blackhand knows when he's lost. You've won the items, so do whatever you want with them."

"Old man, don't say I'm not loyal. If you give me that piece of Adamantine you have, we'll call it even. How about that?"

"Bullshit!!! I've only collected that much over all these years. You already used a good chunk of it to reforge that Bloodfire, and now you're not even letting go of the rest? Ancestors! Spirits! Strike this unfilial brat down with a bolt of lightning!" Upon hearing this, the old man jumped up like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, cursing loudly.

"Hmph, don't put on an act, old man. I was the one who taught you the word 'unfilial.' I've already been more than generous. Taking just one piece of Adamantine is fair enough. Don't think I don't know you still have plenty of other good stuff. I'm taking one piece to settle the debt; you're getting the better end of the deal. If you don't agree to this, I'll tell everyone that our esteemed Master Blackhand has learned how to welsh on his debts. Truly, the world is going to the dogs." Solam looked at the old man with a cold sneer.

"Damn, you really don't know how to respect your elders. Can't I even feel a little heartache?" The old man had learned quite a few new words from Solam lately.

"Alright, alright, take it. I must have owed you in a past life. One wrong step and a thousand regrets—I shouldn't have bet in the first place." The old man looked as if he couldn't bear to look back on the past.

"Heh, that's our Master Blackhand—straightforward and a real man who honors his bets." Having gained the upper hand, Solam quickly laid on the flattery.

"Hmph, that's right. Who do you think I am? My word is my bond." The old man immediately took the bait. It had to be said, his personality was truly endearing. "What do you need Adamantine for? Are you planning to forge another weapon?" Adamantine was not only incredibly hard but could also elevate a weapon's sharpness by several grades; it was a rare, top-tier material.

"No, I've already brought a gift for Little Iluter, but Krum's gift is still up in the air. So, I thought I'd upgrade his weapon so he doesn't say I'm playing favorites."

"Hey, you brat, you really are a family man. You know how to think of your brother, why don't you think of your poor teacher..."

"Damn, old man, that's a bit heartless of you. If I hadn't gone easy on you, you'd be down to your underwear right now. If you keep saying that, I'm going to collect on the debt according to the rules." Solam threatened him the moment the old man started up again.

"Don't, don't, my dearest student. I was just complaining, I didn't mean it against you." The old man cowered immediately.

This exchange made the other orcs nearby burst into laughter.

"Hahaha, Master Blackhand, you're folding already? A real man shouldn't be a coward—just go for it! How can you admit defeat to your own apprentice?"

"Exactly, Master Blackhand, didn't you always say you were a tough-as-nails man?"

"Hahahaha!"

The surrounding crowd was jeering, but our Master Blackhand wasn't one to be intimidated. You had to realize he was a businessman; if his skin wasn't thick, he wouldn't be called Blackhand by everyone.

"What are you laughing at? I'm not a coward. Are you going to help me pay my gambling debts? If you're such real men, come on, let's play a few rounds and see how I teach you a lesson."

As soon as he said this, the others immediately pretended not to hear and scattered like birds and beasts. There was no helping it; this old man was known as the Gambling King of Lava Mountain and wasn't someone to be trifled with. Although he had taken a massive fall against Solam, bullying these weaklings was still easy for him. The orcs might not have been the brightest, but they weren't stupid—who would bet against him? That would be asking for death. If it weren't for the fact that no one would bet with him, Blackhand wouldn't have been foolish enough to challenge Solam. Being invincible was truly lonely.

"Pah, a bunch of cowards." Seeing everyone back down, the old man felt quite vindicated.

Seeing the old man showing off, Solam decided to ignore him and prepared to finish the axe on the anvil.

However, the old man wasn't planning on leaving after his display.

"Leave that thing for now, I have something else to discuss with you."

"What is it? Can't it wait? I'm busy right now."

"Busy with what? The axe is almost done, just a few more hammer strikes. Do it later, I've got something good for you."

With no choice, Solam followed the old man. Along the way, people kept greeting Solam, and it seemed he was quite popular in the Forge Clan.

In truth, it hadn't been like this when Solam first arrived. When he first came, others looked at him as a half-breed, and a skinny one at that. Although the Avalon orcs were generally good-natured, they were also quite xenophobic. He hadn't felt it back in his own clan, but after arriving at the Forge Clan, he realized not every Avalon orc could accept a half-breed like him, so naturally, he faced plenty of trouble.

But our Solam wasn't the type to be afraid of that, so he ended up in fights every few days. He won some and lost some. For the first two months, he was bruised and battered every day. When old man Blackhand asked what happened, Solam just said he tripped.

Don't let the orcs' xenophobia fool you; they were very straightforward. They saw that even when Solam lost a fight, he didn't complain or beg for mercy, and he never hesitated when he was targeted again. Moreover, he never used spells during fights—it was always fist-to-fist. (In the eyes of an orc, using spells in a fight was cheating.)

This demeanor suited the orcs' nature perfectly; he wasn't a coward at all. On top of that, Solam was an expert hunter. Every time he went out, he not only brought back a haul but also helped the hunting party avoid danger, ensuring they hadn't suffered any real losses in the last two years (Solam could use his "Communication" ability to sense danger). Just like that, everyone eventually accepted Solam, considering him a true orc man, and no one cared anymore whether he was a half-breed.

Watching Solam greet everyone, Blackhand felt very happy. In fact, Blackhand had known about Solam being bullied when he first arrived for a long time. He wasn't stupid; how could someone be bruised and battered every day from "tripping"? But he pretended not to know. If Solam had come to him to complain, his first reaction would have been to send him back. A disciple of Blackhand could be slow or cunning, but he could never be a coward. Running to a guardian to complain after being bullied was, in the eyes of an orc, the behavior of a coward. The Avalon orcs could never acknowledge a coward, and naturally, such a person could never become a noble shaman.

However, Solam had done well. He let everyone know of his toughness; he would never yield when bullied, and he would immediately use his fists to show others that he wasn't someone to be trifled with.

The Avalon orcs loved this attitude. Whether you won or lost wasn't important; being weak wasn't shameful, but having a soft spine was something to be despised.

That was why Blackhand loved this disciple of his so much. He not only taught him shamanic knowledge with great care but also passed on his own forging skills without holding anything back.