Over the next five days, theypleted the remaining swords.n/?/vel/b//in dot c//om


    Lancelot''s work was now done. Polishing, sharpening, and wrapping the hilt could be done by Bruto, and Lancelot wasn''t able to assist with those tasks.


    However, new work quickly came knocking at their door. This time, Barrend had invited Lancelot to assist him, which left Lancelot puzzled. The old Dwarf soon answered his question.


    "Don''t think that I''ll be satisfied with making these disposable pieces of junk," Barrend openly expressed his disdain for the products made under his supervision. "I want to create a genuine masterpiece to prove my skills!"


    "But what can I possibly help with?" Lancelot asked, puzzled, "Is it because of my strength?"


    "Exactly!" Barrend nodded in confirmation. "I n to make a whip suitable for a Subus. The braid will be made from the finest Cold Iron Fment. Producing metal fment is a very time-consuming and strenuous process, and braiding them is even more so, hence I need to draw on your strength."


    Lancelot thought for a moment and agreed. He had originally nned to take advantage of the days Bruto was upied to go find trouble with the sand worms in the Shattered Mountain Range, but his cultivation had seen impressive progress over these days, clearly rting to his True Qi being depleted from forging during the day.


    He was still a distance away from theter stage Great Perfection of the Qi Refinement Realm, so it was more important to focus on improving his cultivation level first, and there was no urgency to gather materials for Foundation Establishment.


    Moreover, since it was a gift for Tijana, he was naturally willing to be involved.


    Lancelot once again swung his hammer, and as he repeatedly struck the Cold Iron raw material, impurities were continuously expelled. But Barrend was not so easily satisfied; he repeatedly carried out the process of heating, hammering, and folding until the third day when he finally allowed Lancelot to stop.


    The humans'' next task was to push a stone mill-like disc, stretching the white-hot Cold Iron raw material into fments as fine as hairs.


    Every time he pulled out a length of nine feet, the disc would automatically cut the thread, and Barrend woulde over to collect the Cold Iron Fments. The old Dwarf wore thick gloves, but his arm was still identally cut open by the fment. The skin of a Dwarf is as tough as callus, highlighting the sharpness of these metal strands.


    Each metal fment was specially heat-treated; after quenching, they were tempered at rtively high temperatures. This process made them less hard than swords, but significantly increased their flexibility, which is the characteristic needed for making a whip.


    After that, Barrend used a device simr to a loom to wrap seven Cold Iron Fments into a single metal thread, then wrapped seven such threads into a slightly thicker metal rope.


    Finally, he twisted seven such metal ropes into a whip cord, one in the middle with the rest wrapped around it. Toplete this final step, Lancelot used all his True Qi to tightly twist the seven thin cords into one, which, unless closely inspected, did not show that it was actually made of countless finer strands.


    The final product was about eight feet long, the whip cord was only slightly stiffer than an ordinary leather rope, the end was tied with a de made of Cold Iron; the handle was wrapped with a strip of leather cut from the backside of a shark-lizard beast, providing a grip that was bothfortable and slip-resistant; at the top of the handle was set a beautiful mountain crystal, serving as a counterweight and decoration.


    "It''s truly beautiful," Lancelot remarked, unable to help but admire the item he had helped create. The entire whip seemed to glow, but that was actually the reflection of the more than three hundred Cold Iron Fments that made up the whip cord.


    Although he had never been trained to use a whip, he was certain that with this whip in hand, he could make half the Demons in the city cry for their mothers and fathers.


    "This is definitely the highlight of my career," Barrend proudly looked at the whip, "There''s just one more step to finish."


    "What''s missing?" Lancelot asked, puzzled, as surely the Dwarf couldn''t engrave Enchantment Runes on the soft whip cord, and by now this weapon should be beyond further work.


    "To the Father God, ancestor of dwarven craftsmanship, soul forger Muradin, I present this item," Barrend said solemnly, "Every meticulously crafted piece is a tribute to the Father of Dwarves, proof that we have followed His teachings. Sometimes the Father God even bestows blessings if the work is exquisite enough."


    "But..." Lancelot couldn''t help but notice the irony, "have you thought of a prayer? ''Oh great Father God, look upon this whip made for a Subus! Are you sure the God of Dwarves will bless this weapon instead of bing so angry that He physically descends upon us?''"


    Barrend obviously hadn''t considered this. His face slowly turned red and finally, he could only say with difficulty, "She''s been rather good to the dwarves, maybe the Father of Dwarves would like to hear that."


    Lancelot shrugged. He did not worship any deities; in his world, gods were ethereal beings, never revealing themselves.


    But things were different here. He hadn''t even heard of most of the gods in this ce, except for Sulun, the Goddess of the Moon, whom the elves of his world worshipped.


    Each god had their own domain to rule over, clear likes and dislikes, and they would bestow rewards or punishments on their followers, fighting against each other and even walking the earth in person.


    The power of the gods derived from their mastery over rules, which is the divine office they held. As the races, behaviors, ideologies, or any other aspects associated with their divine office became more prevalent in the world, their divine power would grow.


    That''s why the God of Justice couldn''t tolerate any evil or injustice, why the God of War fervently promoted warfare, and why the Goddess of Love would smile upon all loving couples.


    The power of Spiritual Cultivators, however, operated on an entirely different system. In the early stages, Spiritual Cultivators turned themselves into vessels, amassing the power of heaven and earth to enhance their strength; in the middle stage, they would expand their own universe, gaining power as this universe expanded.


    When a Spiritual Cultivator''s universe reached a certain extent, they would be rejected by the universe they were in and undergo the so-called ''Ascension'' to leave this universe.


    Han Tianzun had only existed for a very short time before being rejected and leaving this universe, and having his legacy was an extreme stroke of luck.


    Over here, Barrend was ready to pray to the Dwarven God, Moradin. The ritual was very simple; he just had to ce the offering on an iron anvil next to a lit forge.


    Kneeling on one knee, Barrend chanted:


    "Great Father of Dwarves, protector of kindness and order, guardian of the hills and treasure hoards, patron of craftsmen, soul forger Moradin, your child, Barrend of the Frostforge n, son of ''Dragon yer'' Bruno, I present to you my work, a whip. It isposed of three hundred and forty-three strands of Cold Iron Fment,pleted with the help of a human endowed with Divine Power.


    It will be given to Tijana, the lord of Twin Bridges Town, uh, a demon who has sheltered many dwarves, saving us from a fate of envement."


    The old dwarf''s voice grew quieter, clearly burdened by his own guilt.


    When he finished chanting and nothing happened, he sighed, unsure whether it was regret or relief he felt.


    "Well, at least we are still alive and well," Lancelot sighed in relief and helped Barrend to his feet.


    Just then, Lancelot''s Spirit Perception rmingly signaled an extremely powerful, utterly terrifying, andpletely immeasurable force rushing towards him.


    In that instant, he understood this was what people meant by Divine Power. Barrend truly was the son of his father, a sess in courting death.


    "We''re done for."


    That was the only thought on his mind at the moment.