When the plot-skips players into the game world

Lily instinctively looked towards Hayna, sizing her up.

...She's not short at all?

Could it be that being a mixed dwarf doesn't affect one's height?

Noticing the surprised look in Edward's group, Hayna's father was amused and burst into a hearty laugh.

The dwarf gulped down a big mouthful of beer, moistening his throat.

Without any hesitation or evasion, the dwarf uncle straightforwardly addressed what Edward and his companions were most interested in, "Don't look at her like that—neither of these kids are my own. But I've taken care of them since they were little, so I'm like half a dad to them.

"Their irresponsible bastard of a real dad ran off—before Jack was even born, he ran away from Eagle Cape Village."

The dwarf uncle said bluntly: "I think that kid must have fallen under some spell, or got too carried away with playing around with his master—that's also why I don't want this girl to go study on Glass Island. After all, her stupid real dad is on Glass Island."

Upon hearing this, Aiwass silently looked towards Sherlock.

Sherlock paused for a moment before understanding what Aiwass wanted him to do.

—It was obviously a signal for him to speak his mind unrestricted by adult convention.

After all, he currently looked like a child, which gave him enough flexibility. Even if he said something inappropriate or his inquiries were impolite, Aiwass could just interject with, "He's just a kid asking out of ignorance," to keep the atmosphere from getting too tense.

So, Sherlock spoke with a naive voice, "That man sounds really bad... But what did he do? Why did he have a master who took him out to play?"

"That kid's master was the former blacksmith of this village, but he is far inferior to me in skill."

The dwarf said disdainfully, "That old geezer also claimed what… that he had learned in the Royal Capital? What did he learn – a hammer? The veteran blacksmiths from the Royal Capital are all those long-eared Elves. If he really learned from them, would he still be human?"

"That old geezer was just good at bragging—Hayna used to like listening to his tales when she was a child. Now you know, don't you? Back then, you were stubborn and wouldn't believe me! Now you believe me, right!"

After saying this, the dwarf laughed heartily.

His mug emptied, he then filled it up to the brim again.

"...Indeed."

Hayna nodded slightly awkwardly, "I understood once I got to Glass Island."

"Right, right! Hahaha!"

The dwarf laughed heartily, his voice loud enough to carry from the inner room to the outside of the blacksmith shop.

And Sherlock continued to inquire, "Then, uncle... How did you get to know Hayna's mom?"

"Ah, about that..."

Hayna immediately felt a bit embarrassed.

She instinctively wanted to stop Sherlock from speaking, but knowing his status, she dared not, and at the same time, she was curious herself—

"Don't call me uncle, call me Grandpa Magnet Hammer!"

With a jovial laugh, the Dwarf Magnet Hammer said, "We're not of the long-eared Longevity Species; we just don't seem to age—that being said, I'm almost sixty years old, hahaha!"

No, rather than saying dwarves don't look old, it's more accurate to say they look too old, Aiwass thought to himself.

After all, dwarves between twenty and fifty years of age all look similar. If you age early on, one cannot tell whether I have aged or not.

"You want to know too, don't you?"

Magnet Hammer took another sip of his drink, looking at Hayna.

"I want to know too, Dad."

Hayna's younger brother Jack also chimed in from the side.

He was eight years younger than Hayna and had been taken care of by Magnet Hammer since he opened his eyes.

Unlike Hayna, who saw Magnet Hammer as a stepfather, to him, Magnet Hammer was his real father—not by birth but by nurturing, which in some ways made him even closer than a biological father.

"It was me who picked up your dad."

Hayna's mother came over with a tray of tea, saying, "That madman left, and within a couple of days, he appeared unconscious in the swamp. I was the one who picked him up…"

"Didn't Grandpa William also appear from the swamp?"

Hayna suddenly asked.

Aiwass's ears twitched slightly, realizing this was the name of the old Inspector.

"Yes, all these outsiders came from the swamp. That's why I asked you to go fetch them... It's not easy to enter our village through the main gate."

She said with some resignation, "By the way, aren't you going to invite your guests to sit down and chat?"

"That's right, why be so formal? We're all family here, everyone take a seat!"

Magnet Hammer declared indisputably as he hopped down from the old sofa and found another oak beer mug, pouring himself another drink.

He scanned the crowd with two mugs in hand.

Um, Hayna. Um, this girl... and the kids. And the bird.

So, he naturally approached Aiwass, "Young man, care for a swig?"

"Sure."

Aiwass smiled, accepting the mug.

Looking down, he realized there was some kind of black beer in the mug, imbued with a charred taste and a malty aroma.

"Beer?"

Aiwass expressed his surprise, "I thought you'd prefer spirits."

"Just woke up, better start with some beer to rinse the mouth! Besides, spirits are too expensive, beer is better! A good bottle of brandy costs at least three or four White Crowns, and even the inferior ones cost twelve Red Coins. But beer—ha-ha, you can get a full mug for just half a Copper!"

Magnet Hammer laughed heartily, "This is the dwarven flavor, you can't find it on the Glass Island. Want to try?"

Hayna watched uneasily from the side, "Dad, if you're going to drink, at least avoid the bad stuff..."

After all, this was Avalon's minister—

But before she could say anything, Aiwass reassuringly patted her arm to indicate it was fine, and took a big gulp.

It was indeed a flavor Aiwass couldn't find on Glass Island.

Compared to regular beer, it was a bit stronger, a little more bracing. It contained some unclear fine impurities and was a little uneven. What left the deepest impression on Aiwass was a strong charred bitterness... like the taste of burnt milk tea.

"Charcoal?"

Aiwass asked, inadvertently blurting out.

—What kind of trick is this, charcoal-infused beer?

The Dwarf Magnet Hammer's eyes widened slightly.

He was taken aback for a moment, then patted Aiwass's shoulder firmly, "Not bad, lad! You could tell from just one sip!

"But actually, if you go to Eternal Frost, you can taste the more authentic stuff. Our genuine dwarven beer is brewed with roasted malt. But sometimes when you're out and about and can't get a taste of home, there's a simple method."

"You soak it with red-hot charcoal, right?"

Aiwass guessed immediately.

What an odd recipe...

"It's not that simple, you know, and you couldn't do it yourself."

Magnet Hammer emphasized, "Soak it too much and it dissolves, not enough and you only get a scorched taste. How to soak and for how long is an art, learned through experience. Only an old blacksmith gets it."

The more he talked about it, the happier he became.

He directly pulled Aiwass to sit on the sofa and poured him another mug of beer.

And by then, Aiwass had also figured out what that murky stuff in the beer was—tiny particles of charcoal.

Hayna's mother, seeing this, shook her head in resignation.

She took Hayna and her siblings, along with Sherlock, upstairs to the bedroom.

The greatest advantage of this kind of village was probably the low cost of building houses. The land was virtually free, and with a reliable labor force in the family, one could afford materials to build a spacious multi-story house.

Sherlock also came to understand the family situation of Hayna's household a bit better.

—She was a little wealthier than she appeared to be.

After all, her father was the best blacksmith in the village... Despite there being more than one blacksmith in the village, and though he had only arrived about a decade or so ago. But that was, after all, Transcendent craftsmanship capable of forging equipment.

However, he did not support the idea of Hayna going to study in a place teeming with elves, so he likely hadn't given her much money.

And ultimately, as an unregistered craftsman, he couldn't possibly sell his work at the standard prices.

...But if Hayna's father's skills were high enough... maybe I could order some equipment from here?

Sherlock felt tempted.

True, he probably couldn't craft equipment for Legal Mages and Mages.

But Sherlock had previously learned some staff techniques from Edward—

How about asking Uncle Magnet Hammer to craft a staff?

And I could bring back a gift for Edward... as an apology for sneaking away with his gear.