The Blacksmith district was located to the west of Twin Bridges Town, and the dormitory area for the blacksmiths was in the farthest western corner.

    This cluster of buildings had the typical characteristics of a Dwarf architecture, with half of the houses on the surface and the other half underground, each bedroom connected by a common living room. Barrend and three other companions, who had initially ’rebelled’ together, shared a dormitory.

    The Dwarves did not find this arrangement to be objectionable; in fact, they were quite adapted to this collective style of living.

    At the moment, Lancelot and his companions were sitting on the sofas in a public lounge of the dormitory area, holding a mug of beer in their hands, watching a group of Dwarves gather around Bruto, listening to him recount the adventures they had just experienced.

    Lancelot had never been exposed to this type of drink before, with alcohol content not very high and giving off white bubbles, but he found that he preferred this lively atmosphere of drinking and chatting, compared to the polite ritual of sipping red wine from a glass at a dining table.

    "... the gorilla’s fist was as big as Aunt Berya’s cooking pot. With a whoosh, it came smashing down from above, but it was too tall, and with a roll to the side, I easily dodged it..."

    Bruto, standing on a table, was telling his story with such animation that his saliva flew in all directions, captivating the audience around him, including Lancelot, who found him to be truly entertaining.

    Little Issa was also attracted by this story, her pale blue eyes wide open, as if she were watching Bruto’s heroic battle with her own eyes.

    Lancelot clinked glasses with Kalalin and said with a smile,

    "If only we poor souls cast down into the Abyss could have half his optimistic attitude."

    "Dwarves are just such a resilient and optimistic race." Kalalin drained his glass in one gulp. "I also want to thank you, Sir Lancelot, for if one can be assured of their personal safety, the Abyss is simply paradise for us scholars who study Demons."

    Lancelot took the bottle and refilled his own and Kalalin’s glasses, "Regarding safety, it’s best not to be too optimistic. The Abyss always has unexpected ways to take your life."

    "Indeed. The more you study the Abyss, the more you realize that chaos is its essence. Moreover, according to Am’s theory, the gods have extracted most of the good from this chaos, so the chaos we see here is often filled with malice."

    At this point, Barrend left the crowd around his son and came over to Lancelot. He raised his glass formally and said,

    "I’d like to toast to you, Sir Lancelot, in gratitude for taking care of Bruto."

    This little girl’s sorrow was probably no less than theirs.

    As the singing faded, the dwarves one by one went to rest. With no outsiders present, Lancelot nudged Bruto—it was time to talk business.

    "Er, Dad, where do we find Cold Iron?"

    "Weren’t you always impatient with learning these sorts of things? Why the sudden question now?"

    Bruto could only cast a pleading look towards Kalalin, "You explain."

    "Many know that Holy Weapons are the best choice against Fiends, but few realize that Cold Iron is also highly effective, and this type of weapon doesn’t have user restrictions; even Fiends can use it," Kalalin explained. "Bruto mentioned that your Frostforge Clan are experts in processing Cold Iron. He believes this could make the Succubus Lord view you differently."

    "I see," Barrend nodded and glanced sideways at Bruto, "Let me guess, this impatient young man has already spoken to Lady Tijana, and because he couldn’t produce any actual goods, he got a bloody nose?"

    "Dad, you know me so well, heh heh."

    "What’s more important is, we want to hear your thoughts on this matter," Lancelot’s expression became serious, "Would it be a good idea to give this weapon to Tijana? What do those dwarves who have stayed here for a long time think about Tijana?"

    "I’ve been carefully considering this as well," Barrend said, frowning, "The feelings of the dwarves here towards Tijana are quite complex. On one hand, they detest Tijana’s endless orders and exploitation, and on the other hand, they are very aware of how precious the shelter she provides is."

    "Tijana is indeed an anomaly," Kalalin agreed, "Among all known towns in the Abyss, Twin Bridges Town is one of the few that has always maintained a stable relationship with its mortal residents."

    "And to some extent, she has also granted us a degree of autonomy. The affairs of the blacksmith district are mostly handled by the Craftsmen Committee, and the chairman is a dwarf over 200 years old. These early settlers of Twin Bridges Town seem to be loyal to Tijana, and a dwarf’s trust is not easily won, let alone maintained for such a length of time."

    "So your opinion is?"

    "The expertise in processing Cold Iron is not a closely guarded secret. Although Tijana is a demon, she is our protector now, and she has a good reputation in this aspect," Barrend nodded, "It is beneficial for us to provide her with something valuable."

    "That’s great, but where do we go to find Cold Iron Ore?"