The Mahal Tribe’s blacksmiths were more than craftsmen who forged iron and weapons. They embodied the tribe’s devotion and beliefs, a crucial aspect of their way of life. In a tribe that held martial prowess in the highest regard, blacksmiths were invaluable, highly respected companions. 0

And among them, the head blacksmith was deeply respected, as they were the most skilled and experienced artisan of the tribe. 0

"Is this person really that incredible?" Kim Do-Joon asked.0

Shura, bouncing with excitement, replied, “That’s what I’m telling you! He’s practically the second most important person in the tribe!”0

Although, from the way she acted, it seemed like she feared the blacksmith more than the priest. Kim Do-Joon recalled Shura casually chatting with the priest like an old neighbor just the day before.0

"Ahem!" Jamel, the blacksmith, cleared his throat loudly, interrupting their conversation. “Shura, I need to have a word with our guest. Can you give us some privacy?”0

"But—" Shura muttered.0

“If you don’t listen, I won’t check your weapon anymore.”0

“What? No! Okay, I’m going!” Shura went pale as she darted out of the tent. 0

Watching this exchange, Kim Do-Joon finally understood why Shura held Jamel in such high regard. Jamel was someone they all respected, perhaps even more than the Priest.0

Jamel turned to Kim Do-Joon with a smile. “I apologize for not introducing myself properly yesterday. Normally, I would have greeted you then, but with the festival and all, things were a bit hectic.”0

“No need to apologiz...0