After digesting all the information.
Shinichiro Nakamura gave a bitter laugh.
He bowed respectfully to the blurry figure on the sofa.
"Thank you for your kindness, my lord."
"But... I still have my master and family here, and I don't want to leave like this."
His voice carried a hint of determination.
"I hope that the Lord will grant my request."
Zhou Huai nodded.
He always thought that Shinichiro Nakamura was just /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ a cowardly coward, otherwise he wouldn't have beco his demon slave so readily.
Since he insisted on staying, he didn't force him to.
"Take care of yourself."
Zhou Huai said sothing softly, then picked up the sleeping Natsu Rinko from the sofa and silently left the villa.
Watching Caesar's departing figure, this new generation of blacksmithing master from the Sakura Kingdom bowed deeply once more, his forehead slamming heavily onto the cold floor.
...
After leaving the villa area, Zhou Huai quickly contacted Bai Hudie Tang Qi.
Tang Qi was extrely efficient and quickly prepared a completely safe house for him in an inconspicuous corner of Takamagahara.
After hiding Caesar and Natsu Rinko inside, Zhou Huai finally couldn't hold on any longer, and his consciousness returned to his body.
The prolonged, high-intensity battle had overdrawn his soul power.
At this mont, an indescribable sense of exhaustion had spread throughout my body.
He just wanted to get a good night's sleep and then think about the pendulum of life after he woke up.
At the sa ti, the heart of a master craftsman.
Shinichiro Nakamura walked through the long corridor.
Along both sides of the corridor, in each independent forging room, the furnace fire roared and the sound of hamrs echoed incessantly.
Upon seeing him, the blacksmiths around him stopped what they were doing and greeted him politely.
"Mr. Shinichiro."
"You're back."
He nodded politely in response to each one, his face devoid of any extra expression, and without stopping, he walked straight to the deepest part of the Divine Craftsman's Heart.
Heart of Fire.
This is the only master craftsman in the Sakura Kingdom, the exclusive forging place of Omiya Yoto.
Normally, apart from Omiya Yoto himself and his most outstanding disciple Nakamura Shinichiro, no one has the right to set foot inside.
Standing in front of the heavy tal door, the clanging and banging of forging could be heard from inside.
The sound was deep and resonant, each strike seemingly hitting the heart, filled with a strange rhythm and power.
Shinichiro Nakamura stopped, took a deep breath, and then pushed open the door to enter.
A wave of heat hits you from inside the forging chamber.
In the very center, an old man, shirtless, was wielding a huge iron hamr, repeatedly smashing it against the red-hot tal on the forging table.
The old man was exceptionally robust, with well-defined muscles that contrasted sharply with his long, snow-white hair.
With each swing of his hamr, the veins on his arm bulged like writhing dragons, brimming with explosive power.
Sweat soaked his white hair, trickled down his deeply lined cheeks, dripped onto the scorching ground, and instantly evaporated into a wisp of white smoke.
Shinichiro Nakamura approached his teacher, his lips twitched a few tis, but he remained silent and did not interrupt.
After an unknown amount of ti, the steady hamring finally stopped.
Shinichiro Nakamura then mustered his courage and spoke in a hoarse voice.
"Teacher, Mr. Kosuke is dead."
"The plan to assassinate Kujo Hiroharu... has failed."
Omiya Yoto's hand holding the hamr handle paused slightly, and the hamrhead hovered in the air for a mont.
"when!"
With a deafening crash, the hamr slamd down again, sending countless sparks flying.
The old man's face showed no emotion, as if he had only heard about a trivial matter.
He remained silent, simply tapping away.
The hamr's sound remained steady, yet it seed to carry an indescribable heaviness compared to before.
Ti passed in the flickering light of Mars.
After a long while, the old man finally put down the hamr in his hand and let it crash to the ground with a "clang".
He picked up the towel next to him, wiped the sweat from his face, and sighed softly.
"Sotis, I get really angry."
His tone carried a deep sense of powerlessness.
"I'm angry at myself for being just a professional in the business of making a living."
"What use is a weapon, no matter how good it is? In the end, it cannot change the course of the battle."
Shinichiro Nakamura felt as if a wad of cotton was stuck in his throat, and after holding it in for a long ti, he finally managed to speak.
"Teacher, let take you away."
"The Kujo family...they won't let you get away with this."
Upon hearing this, Omiya Yoto smiled, a smile filled with vicissitudes and loneliness.
"escape?"
Where can I run to?
"From now on, the entire Sakura Country will be under the control of the Kujo family."
Just then, a cell phone rang urgently.
Yoto Omiya picked up the phone, and the screen displayed the na "Hideki Omiya".
As soon as the call connected, the anxious voice of the clan leader, Eiki Omiya, ca through.
"Uncle Yaodou! I've already sent soone to pick you up! Please pack your things imdiately, and I'll take you away from Takamagahara!"
Clearly, the current head of the Ōmiya family has learned that Kujō Hiroharu is not dead and has begun arranging for the ergency evacuation of the family's core mbers.
However, Omiya Yoto simply shook his head.
"No need."
"Uncle, I've been forging all my life, and I'm getting a little tired."
"I won't be a burden to you."
After saying that, without waiting for Hideki Omiya to dissuade him further, he silently hung up the phone.
Inside the forging room, deathly silence fell once again.
“Teacher...” Shinichiro Nakamura’s eyes reddened.
Omiya Yoto didn't look at him, but turned around and looked again at the nascent sword blank on the forging table.
"Shinichiro, look at this piece of iron."
"It is originally an ordinary thing, which must be tempered and refined a thousand tis to beco a sharp weapon. Aren't people the sa?"
"But...we lost." Shinichiro Nakamura's voice was choked with sobs.
“It is the struggle that is lost, not the iron.” Omiya Yoto shook his head, his cloudy eyes revealing a craftsman’s unique persistence. “Iron only knows how to be tempered by fire and hamred.”
He turned around and patted his disciple on the shoulder.
"You should leave. The fla of the Ōmiya family cannot be extinguished completely."
"You're still young, and you can still swing your hamr for many more years to co."
"I'm not leaving!" Shinichiro Nakamura shook his head violently, tears welling up in his eyes. "If we're going, we'll go together!"
Omiya Yoto calmly shook his head.
"You know the teacher well. When have I ever wavered in my decision?"
"Since you don't want to leave, then stay and be the teacher's second."
Shinichiro Nakamura's eyes widened in surprise, thinking he had misheard.
"Teacher... what did you say?"
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