Aaron, who had successfully started a fire, lay beneath the stove, blowing air with effort, without worrying about getting a face full of ash.
Father may not be reliable elsewhere, but he has the unique ability to make clay, which cannot be criticized by anyone.
He even designed a technology called windway in making this mud kiln, which Marum called, to ensure that the burning smoke will not be discharged.
It sounds like the duty of the god of craftsmanship, Hephaestus.
Aaron looked at his father with envy: "Father, can these things also be taught to me? Although I also believe myself to be very skillful, many things need to be learned and understood before they can be done."
Anda patted his hand full of mud and casually said:
"You've seen your brothers in your dreams, haven't you? I remember that there are a few master craftsmen among them. You can just follow and learn from them when the time comes."
He looked at his son, with a serious expression on his face:
"And even if you learn these skills, it won't be useful. The current social civilization of humans doesn't support you in making such exquisite objects, and it won't improve your standard of living either."
Upon hearing this, Aaron began to complain:
"I can teach my younger brothers instead!"
"Kiriman and Lojah have already grown up, but they are both busy. One supports your mess, the other has not yet pacified his own world, and both must deal with those demons."
"Chaka is still young, though he's taller than me, he's only four years old."
"Who knows, maybe in dreams, my brothers will become smaller and smaller, even babies. I'll have to learn more things to teach them."
Anda rarely began to think, of course, this was not a good thing. For Aaron, when his father began to think, it usually meant that his mother was frowning and lamenting, indicating that his father had some bad ideas in mind, especially the stubborn kind.
"Stop! Don't talk, don't open your mouth. Let's finish dinner tonight and then go in the evening to see what this Dionysian festival here is all about."
Aaron decided on the spot, stopping his father's thoughts from extending.
Anda washed his hands, rubbed his beard, walked to the door of the yard, leaned against the wall and muttered:
"If the elder brother can help with watching over the children in dreams, then I'll have more reasons to persuade Erda to help me have children."
"Erda thinks I'm unreliable, and her son can't be that unreliable. And I'm not that unreliable, am I? Why do those little bastards always have something against me?"
Aaron didn't hear his father's "reflection". He hurriedly called Marum to bring over the prepared ingredients.
The normal cooking will be done in the kitchen pot, and any extra food can be brought out to experience your father's newly made kiln.
Marum calmly brought out an entire table, looking at the king's "invention".
This seems to be a new type of roasting furnace, which avoids the smoke and scattered debris from polluting the food, while maintaining sufficient temperature to roast, can maintain the food taste to the greatest extent -
He couldn't come up with any more praise, for the fact is that the Limit Warriors are not good at flattery.
In the eyes of the efficiency-seeking Limit Warriors, cooking a flat pan with oil, seasoned well, and then frying or roasting it, would produce the same results.
Unfortunately, his father would never be able to have such a family joy with the king.
Anda walked back, pushing Aaron to the side: "Go put in the food, I'll watch over the kiln."
Aaron muttered in his mouth: "The fire is already out, just add wood later. Why do you have to make me do something, just say it directly, no need to find a reason for yourself."
Anda's face didn't change color: "Mastering the fire is the essence. If you burn it, we will have to drink the north-west wind tonight. By the way, what is this slang of this era and region? The future memory is too complicated and occasionally refreshes my brain."
On the other side of the table, Marum gazed at Aaron, who was carefully arranging the food, with an envious look. Originals must all envy this elder brother.
Although he has no right to comment on the parent-child relationship of the king, at least both father and son are together, without the constraints of royal duties and large-scale campaigns, Marum's reaction is like Kiriman's, feeling that it's not that bad.
As the sun gradually set, giant torches were lit in various parts of Yonu City, along with bonfires in each neighborhood. The hustle and bustle on the streets outside, the firecracker scents in the air among the people, life's fireworks, so comfortable.
The three of them sat down at the table. On the other side, there was no chair, but a huge trough for Old Five, the donkey.
Marum was very concerned about Old Five's cleanliness, which should be spending the time of daily prayer on maintaining his hygiene.
As a result, this aging and dirty donkey has become much cleaner and more tidy, its feeding also has no smell, all of them are fresh grass.
Perhaps in tens of thousands of years, that will be a sacred Terra native crop, and the nobles won't get to eat much of it.
"It's been a long time since I dreamt of Chaka. I only saw him tame the white scar, a huge Chaogeki wild horse." If he could teach me some riding techniques, it would be great."
Anda grabbed half a piece of fish with his hand, chewing while saying:
"What's the point of learning to ride a horse? We only have one donkey, either riding on Marum's back. Shouldn't I say something that rhymes?"
Aaron wondered: "Mm?"
Anda waved his hand, indicating nothing: "Nothing, some strange thoughts are floating around."
"You don't need to learn to ride a horse, and you don't have the skill to drive either. You only go to watch the races to see girls of your age wearing sleeveless robes, which they only wear for the festival."
Aaron was embarrassed and angry: "Enough! Just eat your food!"
Anda looked at Marum with a smile: "As you can see, the psychological tolerance of young people is not good. Oh, your father Kiriman is the same."
It seems that only Old Five, the donkey, at the other end of the table was unaffected by the sarcasm, as it couldn't understand human language and was just a stubborn donkey.
"Right," Anda's anthropomorphism is a regression curve. After a chaotic speech, it has returned to a more appropriate level: "There will be a market around the Dionysian festival, and some so-called inventors will be peddling their gadgets nearby."
"Anda, Marum and I will go to reconnaissance, you just wander around. But remember!"
Anda's eyes grew serious, and Aaron automatically straightened up. Was his father finally going to say something important!
He began: "Don't waste money investing in those self-proclaimed inventors and con men. All the money at home is earned by me. Save some spending." I would rather you go after girls, with light skin color—" He pointed to his own skin, "health."
Aaron didn't know how long he had held back from flipping the table.
After tidying up the dishes with Marum, he went back to his room and went to bed angry.
Meanwhile, three kilometers away, in the center of Yonu, at the side of the Temple of the Sun.
Here, people have already drawn the market area layout. An old man named Anlim is sleeping in front of his tent, which is filled with strange wooden structures. He's doing this to claim a good location for the market.
Praying that during these days of the festival, there will be wealthy merchants and nobles' sons who are attracted by his skills and can get some support.
Anlim slept soundly, embracing his creations and sinking into the eternal void.
A magnificent voice called to him: "Anlim, I will bestow upon you the most exalted craftsmanship, and in return, you must give me a life."
In the treacherous labyrinth, several demons responsible for quality control were confirming the quality of these sets of war machines, flying around and knocking them.
Wastortel, who usually needs to seek him out for trade, is enough to make most demon traders go into debt.
Now he had personally dispatched envoys to seek the help of the Master of All Transformations.
"The Black King is stuck in that position, and you must, no no no, you need to find a way to kill him. Otherwise, you'll never become one of us."
The voice of the Master of All Transformations always makes Wastortel feel worried, but he cannot question the correctness of the evil plan!
This is indeed what he needs most.
After all, the icy sun was too much to handle, and he was in a hurry to achieve transcendence with a big boost.
But the Black King sat on the toilet and wouldn't get up.
