Tianshan

It was an ordinary day at Blacksmith Village, although it was shrouded in an unfortunate atmosphere. The temperature had plummeted and business was poor. A seventeen-year-old apprentice had been killed last night. A Black Blood Flag was placed at the doorstep of a shop and the blood on the flag was frozen.

More than sixty blacksmiths came together in a small house that afternoon to discuss countermeasures. However, no one had any ideas and they were only here to chat. Most didn't even have a seat and they had to squeeze in and squat around.

"Seven blacksmiths had died."

"Twelve apprentices had died too. I don't have enough people, but no one in South City dares to take up this job."

"Why does the Dragon King hate blacksmiths? We didn't offend him."

"Mr. Hong. Please say something."