After a turn down a narrow path, they arrived at the only other fenced structure in town. Unlike the Lord’s residence, this one was surrounded by a crude plank wall. Inside the yard, a stocky man with a thick red beard and a round belly chopped firewood with practiced swings.
Kaelor’s brows lifted slightly at the sight of the red hair, such hues were uncommon, even rarer this far from noble bloodlines.
He studied the weapons and tools scattered around the yard. They were functional. But nothing more. Their flaws were glaring, even to Kaelor, who had never once lifted a hammer. It was odd, Vulcanus looked the part of a master blacksmith in exile... but his craft told a different story.
"Good morning, Mr. Vulcanus," Mildred said sweetly. "His Lordship wishes to speak with you."
Vulcanus didn’t stop chopping. "If this is about that silver coin nonsense, forget it. I wouldn’t forge a chamber pot for you to shit in."
Kaelor’s eyes darkened. "I didn’t come for buckets. I want you to forge weapons for my new guard."
"I don’t have the ores," Vulcanus replied bluntly, barely sparing them a glance.
Kaelor expected that. The town had no mine and was leagues from any proper trade route. Imports from the Baron’s estate were probably rare and expensive. Vulcanus must have been surviving through barter, but that couldn’t last. Not with wolves breathing down their necks.
Still, something didn’t sit right. The man didn’t seem like someone barely getting by. His forge was clean. His muscles hardened. There was more to him.
Kaelor turned, ready to leave, he wouldn’t waste time arguing.
Then Vulcanus’s voice rang out behind him.
"I might not forge for silver coins, but..." The blacksmith paused, lowering his axe. "If you can work on my forge using that Arcane spell of yours, I won’t just make your weapons. I’ll swear fealty."
It sounded like an empty offer. Swearing loyalty from a common blacksmith? What value was that?
But something in Vulcanus’s tone, measured, testing, almost inviting made Kaelor stop.
This man wasn’t what he seemed.
’System,’ Kaelor asked silently, ’is it possible?’
[Affirmative. The forge can be upgraded via fusion. However, this template requires more Fusion Points (FP) than you currently possess. You also lack appropriate fusion material.]
Kaelor turned his head slightly, eyes narrowed in thought.
He needed more FP. And he needed to find something that could be fused with a forge, stone, heat, fuel, maybe even magical ore. But most of all, he needed to figure out what Vulcanus was hiding.
Because a blacksmith offering loyalty for a spell wasn’t just desperate...it was a man who knew exactly what power looked like.
Kaelor turned sharply. "You understand a bit of how this works. What materials do you have?"
Vulcanus dropped his axe. For a moment, the scowl on his face melted away, replaced by a strange gleam in his eyes, like something long dormant had just stirred awake.
"It’s inside," the blacksmith said, voice low but eager.
Kaelor followed him into the forge, Mildred trailing cautiously behind.
The moment they stepped into the dim room, Kaelor’s eyes were drawn to a large object resting on an iron pedestal. Nearly three feet tall, it looked like an uneven egg, its oval form riddled with deep craters. Its color was a deep, smoldering crimson, and it gave off a soft but unmistakable heat.
"That’s a lava stone," Vulcanus said, his voice reverent. "Found only where dragons build their nests. Can you do anything with it?"
Kaelor’s breath caught.
A treasure once sold in the capital for hundreds of thousands of gold coins was sitting in this backwater town like a forgotten relic.
He didn’t ask how it got here. Not yet. ’This man is more than he appears.’
Mildred’s mouth fell open at the mention of dragons, but she clearly didn’t grasp the true worth of what she was seeing.
Kaelor didn’t waste time. "System, fuse it, just to his hammer."
[Cost: 30 FP. Proceed?]
[You have 10 FP remaining.]
"Yes," Kaelor said aloud.
Blue flames erupted, swirling around the hammer resting on the cold forge. The lava stone trembled, lifted into the air, and then the two were slammed together by a surge of arcane force.
A flash of blue light burst from the fusion, momentarily blinding everyone in the room.
When the glow faded, Kaelor stepped forward, and stopped.
The hammer now lay headfirst in the floor, embedded like a divine relic. Its handle was burnished steel, wrapped in strips of jagged stone. One end tapered smoothly, while the hammerhead, now forged with the lava stone, glowed faintly, exuding dragon-heat that blistered the very air around it.
Kaelor and Mildred had to take a step back, shielding their faces from the sheer heat.
[Item Created: Forge Master’s Hammer (Silver-tier) Infused with the purifying essence of dragon fire. Doubles the durability of forged items and emits heat that only harms foes. The wielder remains untouched.]
Vulcanus stepped forward and seized the hammer’s grip. Lifting it with practiced ease, he stared at it like a man witnessing a miracle.
"You’re a wonder," he rumbled, his voice thick with awe.
Then he looked at Kaelor and for the first time, not with suspicion, but with something bordering on respect. He clapped Kaelor on the shoulder with a heavy hand that nearly knocked the young lord forward.
"You have me at your service... at least until I get bored," Vulcanus said with a half-smile. "I’ve got plenty of scrap crafts lying around. I’ll melt them down and forge weapons worthy of your beast-like warriors."
Kaelor opened his mouth to respond, but then a notification pinged in the corner of his vision.
[Vulcanus the Great has taken an interest in you. He sees great potential.]
[Loyalty threshold increased. He is now one step closer to swearing fealty.]
[300 Fusion Points gained!]
Kaelor’s lips twitched in a faint smile.
Ned sat in his home, the light from the sun flooding in through the window, but his eyes were fixed on the bare wooden table before him, lost in heavy thought. The silence was thick, until the door creaked open.
He looked up sharply.
His son stepped inside, breathless. "The Duke’s cursed son... he’s at the rice fields!"
Ned’s eyes widened. "What?!"
He surged to his feet, the chair scraping harshly against the floor.
"That whore’s brat dares wander wherever he pleases?" he snarled. "If he doesn’t learn his place, I’ll have him killed."