"L-Lord Divine Blacksmith?" The golden guard's voice trembled, his eyes widening as the heavy steel gate creaked open before him.
The sound of ancient metal echoed through the dungeon. On the other side of the opening stood the Divine Blacksmith himself, a faint smile resting on his weathered lips.
His hands, once covered in soot and sweat from the forge, were now clean.
The hammer that had always accompanied him had been left behind, and he stood beside Long Qingyi with a serene expression on his face.
"Y-you… are you leaving?" The golden guard stammered, barely managing to form the question.
"Yes. As far as I know, I'm not a prisoner." The Divine Blacksmith replied casually, striding past the guard with steady steps.
The old man didn't bother to explain his reasons, simply continuing silently down the hallway.
"What would you like to drink, old man?" Qingyi asked, the casualness in his voice making the golden guard swallow hard.
