"You have a plan?" Merlin raised an eyebrow. "How does it work?"
Gorim smiled, then leaned back against the sofa as he explained, "First of all, I want to train his focus. Look at him—do you think cleaning this place is just an ordinary job? You're wrong. He's training his focus."
Merlin: "…"
Nysera: "…"
Gorim took a gulp of his beer, then let out a burp that sounded unpleasant.
"I'm not joking, man," he said with a grin, revealing a row of yellowish, slightly blackened teeth.
Nysera grimaced in disgust and turned her face away.
Merlin only smiled. Still, he didn't doubt Gorim's words.
After all, the man was the most legendary blacksmith on the continent.
"I understand. I trust you," Merlin said casually. Then he changed the subject. "By the way, I'd like to ask for your help. Don't worry, I won't ask for it for free."
Gorim nodded. "Just say it."
