Chapter 30: Ironblood Dwarves

The furnaces did not sleep anymore.

Day and night, flames roared through the western industrial district of Elarion while workers moved constantly between ore storage yards, charcoal depots, and refining stations beneath clouds of black smoke rising endlessly into the frozen northern sky.

The valley no longer resembled abandoned ruins.

It looked alive.

Harsh.

Industrial.

The sound of hammering echoed across the mountains from dawn until midnight while glowing forge light illuminated the upper floors of the ancient city every evening like artificial stars burning within stone.

Lucien stood inside the primary refining hall watching molten metal pour slowly from one of the newly modified furnaces while heat waves distorted the air around the platform strongly enough to make several workers sweat despite the freezing temperatures outside.

Nearby, blacksmiths carefully guided the molten iron into prepared channels beneath nervous supervision.

Nobody here had ever worked with temperatures this high before.

And honestly—

That terrified them.

One mistake meant death.

Still—

Excitement spread faster than fear.

Because the results spoke for themselves.

The newly refined iron produced through coke-fueled furnaces looked different.

Cleaner.

Stronger.

Denser.

Even unfinished ingots already showed fewer impurities than traditional frontier steel.

The older blacksmith lifted one partially cooled ingot carefully using thick metal tongs before striking it experimentally against a worktable edge.

The sound rang sharply through the hall.

Clear.

Solid.

His eyes widened immediately.

"This..."

Another strike.

"...this shouldn’t be possible."

Several nearby workers gathered around quickly.

The blacksmith stared at the ingot like a starving man discovering treasure.

"There’s almost no brittleness."

Another stunned pause.

"And the density..."

He looked toward Lucien almost disbelievingly.

"My Lord, even royal forge steel would struggle to match this quality."

Silence spread briefly afterward.

Because everyone understood what that meant.

Superior steel changed warfare itself.

Weapons lasted longer.

Armor became harder.

Tools improved.

Construction accelerated.

And most importantly—

The north stopped depending on central kingdom suppliers.

Lucien observed the glowing furnaces quietly.

This was only the beginning.

Primitive refining.

Primitive production.

Yet already the difference was enormous.

What would happen once assembly methods improved further?

Once precision manufacturing started?

Once firearms entered large-scale production?

The balance of power would collapse completely.

Aurethar rested lazily across the upper section of the industrial hall watching the refining process with visible amusement while his massive golden tail occasionally shifted behind him causing workers to panic every few minutes.

The Dragon Lord sniffed once.

"Hm."

Lucien already knew that tone.

"What now?"

Aurethar tilted his gigantic head slightly toward the refining pit.

"You’re still doing it inefficiently."

Malen sighed immediately from nearby.

"Of course he says that."

The dragon ignored him.

"My flames could refine this entire batch instantly."

"Yes," Lucien answered calmly. "And vaporize half the workers."

Aurethar looked thoughtful.

"...Acceptable losses."

The workers immediately became horrified.

The Dragon Lord blinked.

"What?"

Gandalf glared upward from beside the furnace controls.

"That is not how management works!"

"It worked perfectly for dragons."

"Dragons also slept on mountains of gold instead of building economies."

Aurethar looked offended.

"And we were magnificent while doing it."

Malen snorted loudly.

Lucien rubbed his forehead slightly.

The three of them arguing had somehow become normal now.

Which was deeply concerning.

Suddenly—

A loud horn echoed from outside the valley entrance.

Several knights immediately stiffened.

Lucien turned toward the entrance sharply.

Another horn followed.

Friendly pattern.

A returning patrol.

One of the guards hurried inside moments later.

"My Lord!"

Lucien looked toward him.

"Sir Cedric has returned from Blackstone City."

Good.

Finally.

The slave purchase mission had taken longer than expected.

Lucien immediately moved toward the outer courtyard while snow swirled heavily through the valley entrance beneath dark afternoon clouds.

Workers paused briefly watching the approaching convoy.

Several sled wagons entered first followed by mounted knights escorting heavily bundled figures walking behind reinforced transport chains.

Cedric rode at the front looking exhausted beneath layers of snow-covered armor.

The loyal knight dismounted immediately upon reaching the courtyard.

"My Lord."

Lucien nodded once.

"You’re late."

Cedric grimaced slightly.

"The journey became complicated."

That caught Lucien’s attention instantly.

Then—

The transported figures removed their heavy cloaks.

And the entire courtyard froze.

Not humans.

Dwarves.

Fifteen of them.

Shorter than humans but massively built beneath thick layers of muscle and rough winter clothing while heavy beards framed hardened faces marked by exhaustion, anger, and distrust.

Several workers stared openly in shock.

Even Malen blinked once.

Aurethar immediately leaned downward curiously from above.

"Oh."

His golden eyes narrowed.

"Mountain dwarves."

One of the dwarves instantly looked upward furiously.

"And what in the burning hells is THAT?!"

The entire courtyard became silent.

Cedric looked tired beyond reason.

Lucien slowly turned toward him.

"You bought dwarves."

Cedric coughed awkwardly.

"In my defense..."

Another pause.

"...the humans were useless."

Several dwarves immediately nodded proudly despite being chained.

One even spat sideways.

"Damn right."

Cedric continued quickly before things escalated further.

"The slave market in Blackstone had recently acquired prisoners from collapsed western mining clans."

Lucien narrowed his eyes slightly.

Mining clans.

Interesting.

Very interesting.

Because dwarves—

Especially mountain dwarves—

Possessed metallurgy knowledge far beyond ordinary human blacksmiths.

One older dwarf with braided iron-gray beard stared around the industrial district afterward.

His sharp eyes immediately locked onto the furnace smoke rising above the valley.

Then the dwarf’s expression changed slightly.

"...You’re refining with processed fuel."

Lucien’s eyes sharpened.

The dwarf noticed.

"Hah."

The old dwarf straightened despite the chains around his wrists.

"So the human lord isn’t entirely stupid."

Several knights immediately looked offended.

Aurethar burst into delighted laughter overhead.

"Oh I like this one already."

The older dwarf finally looked upward again.

Then froze completely seeing the full size of the Dragon Lord resting above the courtyard.

Silence.

Long silence.

Then—

"...Why does the sky lizard look smug?"

Malen nearly choked trying not to laugh.

Aurethar’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Sky... lizard?"

The dwarf crossed his arms stubbornly.

"You heard me."

Every knight nearby slowly backed away expecting death.

Instead—

The Dragon Lord grinned.

A huge dangerous grin.

"Excellent."

Golden smoke drifted from his nostrils.

"At last, someone with acceptable arrogance."

The older dwarf squinted upward.

"You’re too shiny."

"I am a Golden Dragon Lord."

"Still shiny."

Even Gandalf started laughing quietly now.

Cedric sighed heavily.

"My Lord... the journey was painful."

Lucien understood why immediately.

These dwarves clearly possessed absolutely no survival instinct.

The older dwarf finally looked toward Lucien properly.

"You the lord?"

"Yes."

The dwarf studied him silently.

Then glanced toward the industrial smoke again.

"You building forges?"

"Yes."

Another pause.

"Proper forges?"

Lucien nodded once.

The dwarf’s expression shifted subtly afterward.

Interest.

Real interest.

Not fear.

Not submission.

Craftsman’s curiosity.

"What’s your name?" Lucien asked calmly.

The dwarf straightened proudly.

"Bromgar Ironheart."

The name fit perfectly.

Lucien gestured toward the furnaces behind him.

"Then perhaps we can help each other, Bromgar Ironheart."

The dwarf stared toward the industrial district silently while black smoke rose endlessly into the snowy sky beyond the ancient ruins of Elarion.

Then slowly—

Very slowly—

A grin spread beneath his massive beard.

"...Maybe this frozen hellhole won’t be boring after all."

And deep within the growing industrial city hidden beneath the mountains, the fires of steel refinement burned hotter than ever.

End of Chapter 30