"Long-legged," the dwarves call the humans they meet. It does sound a little uncomfortable, but to be fair, it has no derogatory meaning. It simply describes the first impression of a foreign race. The strong underground dwellers speak from

Without beating around the bush, do you know how they describe elves? "Nervous sissies", "girls who urinate standing up", "hairless monkeys that eat vegetable leaves with two sticks", the list goes on and on.

Comparing the two, dwarves are very polite to humans.

Flint Furnace from Bronzebeard Castle never thought that he would get along with an elf and an elf woman for so long. The elf led the dwarf to the castle where she stayed as promised and introduced him to the priest. But after hearing

The pastor shook his head at Lin Te's request. It is the shepherd's duty to spread the faith, let alone go deep into the mountains. Even if he imitates St. Peter and sets foot on thousands of miles of ice, it is his duty.

The problem is, regardless of whether the goddess will care about the small matter of asking for a child, the person concerned must pray to Terra. If you want a dwarf to convert, it is better to ask him to shave off his beard, and both of these things are not good for dwarves.

A great humiliation. The pastor looked at the dwarf standing like a rock in the center of the church with embarrassment. After hesitating for a while, he still expressed his thoughts.

Sure enough, the dwarf jumped up and grabbed the priest by the collar, dragging him nose-to-nose, roaring that it would be better to die than to convert. Flint ordered the priest to think of other ways, and at the same time, he did not forget to speak in panic.

The priest shook his heavy money bag in front of his eyes.

Suffering a double blow from force and money, the priest shook his head with difficulty and insisted on his principles. His performance was impressive. At this time, the advantages of the long-lived race were revealed. The dwarf laughed and let go. He had time to wait for the other party.

Change your mind, or find other smarter humans. Flint stayed in the empire for five years. He looked for priests who were willing to help, and at the same time worked as Sir Taylor's personal blacksmith. His fame grew, and he followed

The relationship between the elves is also getting better and better.

Everything went well, and finally a nun relaxed. The dwarf was overjoyed and was about to go on the road, but received the bad news of his wife's death from a fellow man passing by the castle. A plague broke out in Bronzebeard Castle, and Model's priests were helpless. There was no other option but to isolate the patients.

Tarfa Lynn volunteered to take care of the sick and unfortunately died with them.

Dwarves never shed tears. What an honor it was for their dead relatives to get their own place beside Model's forge. That night, he took the brandy specially presented by the knight and walked up to the arrow tower of the castle. Flint

His eyes widened, trying to find the constellation representing Model. His wife was waiting for him there. One day, the dwarf would be able to see his Lynn again.

A tall and thin figure blocked the starlight, and his long platinum hair was dazzling, interfering with his inspection of his wife's new home.

"If you have time to hang out here, why not write two poems? Look at how you still look like an elf, you are almost human." The dwarf unscrewed the cork and took a sip of wine.

Christina was wearing tight pants, a white shirt, a green cloak to protect against the night wind, and a long sword hanging on her waist. She was dressed like a standard knight's attendant. The dwarves had never seen any elves other than her, but they had heard that elves liked it.

Dressed in a wide robe and long sleeves, he staggered when he walked, and he pulled his hair out every day in order to compose some strange rhyming poem.

"...I, I can't write poetry." The elf girl honestly admitted her shortcomings, sat on a wooden box, and straightened her blond hair that was messed up by the wind.

"Hmph." The dwarves knew the elf's life experience, and everyone in the castle knew it. Those humans were fascinated by the elf. If they weren't intimidated by the majesty of the old knight, people who wanted to clean her boots would line up all the way from the castle gate.

Tavern in town.

Yep, human beings have bad taste. The dwarf squinted at the elf's tight pants, looking at the little butt and slender legs. He looked up again. The dwarf couldn't help but sigh, her children will starve in the future. He restrained himself.

I can't help but think of my wife. What a good woman, Lynne.

He raised the bottle and drank hard, and the liquid flowed everywhere along his beard. The elf snatched the bottle, and she jumped up and rushed to the wall. Before the dwarf could stop her, half a bottle of brandy was thrown out of the wall.

.

"Drinking yourself to death is not a good way to mourn. You have to pray." The elf's tone became more and more like that of the priest.

"Bah! Silly girl, who said I was sad?" He smiled evilly and took out another bottle of wine from his back. The way humans express sympathy seems to be to give things to others, and the old Sir is very generous.

The elf sat with the old dwarf until dawn. Sir Taylor glared at the elf who smelled of alcohol, and then turned to the dwarf, who was just as tall as Christina's waist. The old Sir's eyes glanced back and forth between the two of them, ordering them to go back to sleep, and spit out the wine.

Don't appear in front of him until you are clean.

Before meeting Leon, the relationship between dwarves and elves was very simple. The red-haired boy was like a pig that broke into the vegetable field, greedily knocking over the planted cabbages. Apart from being a miserable farmer, Flint didn't do much.

Many ways.

Leon is alive, the elf is sad, Leon is dead, the elf is sad, Leon is resurrected, and the elf is still sad.

Christina's bitter teasing made the dwarf dizzy. Flint just wanted to go home and buy a rocking chair from the dwarf. Without the long-legged eyes, he might live for a few more decades.

But that silly girl hasn't come back yet, so he has to stay here. When he sees someone, he has to have a good talk with her and instill some truth into those pointed ears. There are too many men, and it's really not possible. Waiting for someone

Fifty years, anyway, humans die quickly and live quickly, right?

He spent a hundred years looking for the right person, and he was right. The dwarf raised the hammer and tapped the sword until he saw it. He clamped it with pliers and put it in the bucket next to the bellows. Wait until it is white-hot.

After the steam dissipated, he combined the sword grid and the sword body that he had carved a few days ago. According to the customer's requirements, the sword grid was engraved with his family crest and a famous quote from the holy book.

Someone tapped the left side of his face, and the dwarf turned to the left reflexively, and then realized that he had been fooled.

"Damn it, girl, how many times have you told me not to bother me while I'm working? Can women enter the forge? It will bring bad luck!" The dwarf kept talking, but did not take any actual action to stop the little girl.

Wandering around. He bent down and rummaged through the tool box. The carpenter's apprentice had obviously delivered the mahogany sword hilt yesterday, so why couldn't he find it now?

The dwarf stared at Rebecca's hand hidden behind her back. The little red-haired girl wanted to play a trick, but she couldn't hold back her laughter.

"Hold it, I don't care if it hits your hand." The little girl grabbed the sword grid, while the dwarf nailed the mahogany hilt to the sword. Then wrapped it in a coarse cloth strip, and the one-and-a-half-handed sword was completed.

He tried swinging it twice, but the sword was a bit too long for him, and he could only barely complete a few chopping movements. Rebecca's eyes shone, and the dwarf understood that she had not passed the age of fun.

, then handed over the sword. The little girl lost her center of gravity with her first movement. If Flint had not dodged in time, his nose would have been damaged.

"Hey, hey, put down the sword! Is this something you can touch?" The boss Raven stood at the door of the forge at some point. He stepped forward and snatched the sword from the little girl's hand.

"Well, well..." The dwarf didn't say anything, but just cleared his throat. The boss's movements immediately became much gentler. He smiled dryly and touched the little girl's head, and took out the sword like a treasure.

Raven is a good man. He took in the little girl brought by the dwarf without saying a word and provided her with free food and shelter. He claimed that he just needed a helper. Only an idiot would use a woman to look after the blacksmith shop. He was just pitying Rebecca.

, Flint knew this very well.

Who told him not to get rid of this little tail, who told him he was soft-hearted.

The little girl followed the dwarf for another hour. The patrolling guards, the night watchman, the prostitutes standing on the street, and even a group of drunkards, everyone looked at this strange pair. Flint's face was hot, and he couldn't bear it anymore

Push the little girl into a corner and ask her what she wants to do?

The red-haired girl who called herself Rebecca led him to a hut by the dock. After observing the shape of the house, Flint thought it was more appropriate to call it a shack. The girl opened the door, and the strong stench was no longer blocked.

The dwarf was so smoked that he could not stand steadily. The little girl walked into the room and waved to him.

The dwarf's night vision caught a red silhouette. He covered his nostrils with his sleeves and followed the little girl. It turned out that Rebecca was so afraid of being sold to the south because of the woman on the bed. The little girl grabbed the dwarf with hope.

hands, as if he could bring the dead back to life.

The woman on the bed was skinny and skinny, but her belly was as bulging as a ball, which explained the stench. The dwarf thought that anyone could see that she was breathing her last breath. The dying woman trembled

She raised her right hand majestically, wanting to touch her daughter. Rebecca obediently moved her face towards her, but even so, she did not forget to look back at the dwarf.

This caused her to miss one last look at her mother.

The dwarf was penniless, so he could only shamelessly knock on the door of his former employer, borrow money from him to buy a coffin, and find a home for the little girl behind him who cried until her voice became hoarse.

The sleepy-eyed Raven donated the money generously without asking a single question. Afterwards, some jealous colleagues teased him that if the old dwarf had wanted to sleep with his wife, Raven would have agreed without blinking an eye and even helped make the bed.

In fact, this is correct.
Chapter completed!