Chapter 31: Beards and Steel

The arrival of the dwarves changed the atmosphere of the industrial district almost immediately.

Not peacefully.

Not quietly.

But violently.

Verbally violently.

By sunrise the next morning, three separate arguments had already broken out between the dwarves and human blacksmiths regarding furnace temperatures, hammer weight distribution, ore impurity handling, ventilation placement, and what apparently qualified as "acceptable craftsmanship."

According to the dwarves—

Almost nothing did.

Lucien stood near the main refining hall early in the morning while watching one particularly heated discussion escalate beside the western furnace lines.

"No, no, no!"

Bromgar Ironheart looked personally offended by existence itself while glaring at one of the human workers.

"You stacked the fuel layer unevenly!"

The younger blacksmith looked defensive.

"It still burns!"

"That’s not the point!"

Bromgar grabbed his own beard dramatically.

"You’re wounding the spirit of metallurgy!"

Several nearby dwarves nodded seriously.

One muttered darkly.

"Disgraceful airflow discipline."

The human workers looked deeply confused.

Lucien watched silently for several moments.

Then—

Aurethar landed nearby.

Which somehow made everything worse.

The Dragon Lord stretched lazily before observing the ongoing argument with visible delight.

"Ah."

Golden smoke drifted from his nostrils.

"The tiny angry miners are fighting again."

Every dwarf immediately stopped.

Then all fifteen slowly turned toward him simultaneously.

Malen, standing nearby, instantly stepped farther away.

Wise choice.

Bromgar crossed his thick arms.

"We’re smiths."

Aurethar blinked once.

"You’re short."

The courtyard became silent.

Then one younger dwarf pointed upward furiously.

"And you’re an oversized lizard!"

Several knights visibly panicked.

Lucien sighed internally.

Another normal day.

Aurethar slowly lowered his gigantic head toward the dwarf.

"You possess remarkable confidence for something I could accidentally step on."

The younger dwarf refused to back down.

"Big talk from a flying furnace."

Malen immediately lost the battle against laughter.

Even Gandalf coughed suspiciously into his beard trying to hide amusement.

Aurethar narrowed his golden eyes dramatically.

"I am Aurethar, Dragon Lord of the Solar Bloodline."

The younger dwarf shrugged.

"Still shiny."

The Dragon Lord looked genuinely wounded.

Lucien almost felt bad for him.

Almost.

Meanwhile Bromgar had already moved past the dragon entirely and begun inspecting the steel refinement stations with terrifying intensity while several dwarves followed behind him muttering constant criticism under their breath.

"This support beam angle is wrong."

"That hammer rack placement is stupid."

"Who designed this furnace exhaust?"

"The humans probably."

"Ah. That explains it."

The nearby workers looked offended again.

Lucien watched Bromgar closely though.

Because beneath the complaining—

The dwarves were impressed.

Trying very hard not to show it.

But impressed.

The old dwarf eventually stopped beside one of the refined steel ingots produced yesterday.

He picked it up carefully.

Turned it over.

Examined the grain pattern.

Then struck it twice using a small forge hammer hanging nearby.

CLANG.

The sound echoed sharply.

Bromgar’s thick eyebrows immediately rose.

"Hm."

Another strike.

The surrounding dwarves gathered closer.

One whistled softly afterward.

"That’s clean steel."

Another dwarf looked toward the furnace suspiciously.

"You humans actually made this?"

The human blacksmiths looked deeply insulted.

Lucien stepped forward calmly.

"The refining method is mine."

Bromgar looked toward him again.

Then slowly nodded once.

"Good method."

High praise.

Probably the highest possible from dwarves.

Cedric approached shortly afterward carrying updated supply manifests beneath one arm.

The knight still looked exhausted from travel.

Reasonable.

Transporting fifteen dwarves across snowy mountain routes sounded like punishment designed by angry gods.

Lucien looked toward him.

"How many dwarves remained in Blackstone?"

Cedric blinked once.

"...Remaining?"

"The slave market."

Lucien crossed his arms slightly.

"How many?"

Cedric hesitated.

"Roughly forty more from the mining clans."

Bromgar’s expression darkened immediately hearing that.

Several nearby dwarves lowered their gazes silently.

Lucien noticed.

Interesting.

The older dwarf spoke carefully afterward.

"The western mining holds collapsed after miasma outbreaks spread through the deep tunnels."

Another pause.

"Survivors were sold afterward."

No anger in his voice.

Just bitterness.

Lucien understood enough already.

Kingdoms treated slaves as resources.

Frontier chaos only worsened things.

Lucien looked toward Cedric calmly.

"Return to Blackstone."

Cedric immediately straightened.

"My Lord?"

"Purchase the remaining dwarves."

Silence.

Even the workers stopped moving briefly.

Bromgar stared directly at Lucien.

"You serious?"

"Yes."

Cedric frowned slightly.

"My Lord, transporting that many additional dwarves—"

"We need skilled workers."

Lucien looked toward the refining halls.

"And they need purpose."

Bromgar studied him silently for several seconds afterward.

Suspicion.

Confusion.

Curiosity.

Then one younger dwarf muttered quietly beside him.

"...This human lord might be insane."

Another nodded seriously.

"Definitely insane."

Aurethar snorted loudly from above.

"At last, intelligent observations."

Lucien ignored the dragon completely.

Cedric finally nodded once.

"It will be done."

Good.

Because Lucien already understood something important.

The dwarves were more valuable than human laborers.

Not physically.

Mentally.

Their instincts toward metallurgy bordered on obsessive.

Several had already identified inefficiencies in the refining halls within a single morning.

And more importantly—

They cared.

Deeply.

Pride mattered enormously in industrial development.

Bromgar suddenly pointed accusingly toward one furnace.

"That vent angle loses heat."

Then another.

"That ore mixture ratio is uneven."

Then toward an entire structure.

"And that building looks ugly."

Lucas Marcus, who had arrived midway through the criticism, looked personally attacked.

"I designed that workshop."

The dwarf squinted at him.

"My condolences."

Malen burst into open laughter again.

Even Gandalf smiled into his beard this time.

Lucas looked betrayed.

Lucien almost laughed himself.

Almost.

Aurethar meanwhile looked delighted beyond reason.

"I approve of the angry beard people."

"We have names," Bromgar grunted.

"Yes," the dragon replied thoughtfully. "But angry beard people is funnier."

One dwarf pointed upward angrily.

"You overgrown fire chicken."

The entire courtyard froze.

Then—

Aurethar threw back his enormous head and roared with laughter so loudly that nearby snow slid from rooftops across the valley.

"Oh, magnificent."

Golden smoke poured from his nostrils.

"You may live."

The dwarf looked smug instantly.

Malen leaned toward Lucien quietly.

"I genuinely can’t tell whether this place is becoming stronger or simply crazier."

Lucien looked around the industrial district.

Workers moving between furnaces.

Dwarves arguing over steel quality.

A dragon verbally bullying everyone.

Smoke rising endlessly into the frozen sky.

And beneath it all—

Industry growing stronger every day.

Then he answered calmly.

"Both."

Nearby, Bromgar had already started yelling at human blacksmiths again.

"This hammer balance is criminal!"

The blacksmith looked tired.

"It’s a hammer!"

"Exactly! Respect it!"

Aurethar watched proudly from above.

"Yes."

The Dragon Lord nodded sagely.

"They truly belong here."

And across the snowy valley of Elarion, beneath smoke and steel and endless arguments, the foundations of a new industrial power slowly continued rising from the ruins of the dead city.

End of Chapter 31