Ar'Kendrithyst

Chapter 165, 1/2

The Smithy, the noble district, and the administrative district, each had their own floating platforms that held in the air above the main landmass of Enduring Forge, with each location about equidistant from each other. The three platforms were essentially the points of a triangle above the main city.

Looking up at those three platforms from the streets of the main city was not nearly as claustrophobic as Erick had expected, even if the roads here were sometimes thin. Being underground wasn’t that bad, either. Having a full squad of five guards in thick black armor escorting him, though? That was claustrophobic.

The second Erick had stepped out of his appointed rooms there was a guide waiting for him. Erick had made no effort to hide his plans to start his visit at the visitor’s center, but still, it was a bit odd to have his needs so perfectly met, and with a private guide, to boot. The guide was disarmingly cheerful and acquiescent, too, which made it a pain to tell the mousy man that his services as a guide were not exactly what Erick wanted; he just wanted some direction. The five guards were… also a lot, but they were not superfluous.

Those soldiers mostly kept the locals from coming right up to Erick and lavishing him with praise, but that didn’t stop the people from trying. Some of them yelled out thanks and tried to get closer, only to have a blackguard gently push them out of the way with their shield. The citizens didn’t seem to mind this, though. They accepted the pushes. Most stepped away before they required a push, though.

And all the while, flowers fell down from second and third floor windows, along with thanks and cheers.

More than one young lady even flashed her boobs at Erick, calling out how much they’d like to personally thank him for his service to the world.

The guide, Jalrock, was extremely embarrassed about it all, and more than once he called out people by their names, to tell them to put their shirts back on.

It’s not like Erick was on any major streets, either.

In some ways the attention was nice, but mostly… It was claustrophobic.

Erick tried to laugh it all off anyway, saying, “Very relaxed atmosphere here.”

And yet…

Too many people looking his way. A bit too bright. A bit too loud.

Jalrock whispered to Erick, “I am so sorry, Savior. This is not normal—” He stared at a woman who threw some panties out of her window, saying, “Tulai! I’ll tell your mother on you!”

The mother in question came out to stand beside her daughter, asking, “Waking me up from my nap. What fool thing is going on— Oh my Bright Gods. Is that the Savior!”

“Yes, mom!” Tulai said, “And those are my panties on the ground beside him.” She waved at Erick. “Yoo hoo!”

The mother’s eyes went wide, but not at her daughter’s actions. The mother leaned out from their shared window, waving as she shouted, “My sister is alive because of you! Thank you!” Then she slapped her daughter on the arm, saying, “Have some respect! He’s got a mana sense so he can see what you’re offering already!”

Erick’s cheeks flushed because, yes, he did have a mana sense. Oh, boy, did he have a mana sense. He almost wanted to shut it off as he walked down this road, to their lunch destination, but he did not.

They seemed to pass a bottleneck not too much further, leaving the crowded street behind, though a few people still trailed after Erick and his entourage. The guards stopped a lot of that following, though.

Soon, they arrived at their target.

Walking into ‘Hothalls Chamber of Spice’ was an unfun experience.

There was some sort of [Airy Spice Ward] in the entrance hall, alongside a sign that said, ‘If you can’t handle the heat, don’t enter the Hothall!’. Erick could practically feel his taste buds bursting into flame with every breath he took. The scent in the air had Nirzir holding back tears, while Poi and Teressa both just held their breath. Jane relished the scent, though. She breathed deep and smiled wide.

Erick was very tempted to [Dispel] the offending magic.

He did not, though.

Erick ordered a normal meal of rice and steak, with a half-star heat rating, AKA baby slime rating. ‘For the infirm, elderly, and babies of all kinds’. Erick was certainly a baby, yes; this was fine.

Jane enjoyed self-harm in the form of a 12 star entree.

That dish would come out with its own personal spherical [Air Ward] that ensured the poison inside didn’t spread to others, for it certainly would have spread; the rice and sauce and fried chicken swirled some sort of orange and red glow into the protected space. According to the menu, the red glow was a form of poison. [Cleanse] would have knocked the meal down from a 12 star rating (‘for demigods and the dumb’) to a 10 star rating (‘for army generals and archmages’).

No; Erick did not want to try it. He was perfectly happy with his meal for babies.

Jane’s was so strong, a fully-armored waiter had to bring it to the table. That waiter was even dressed up in reflective silver [Conjured Armor], which Erick suspected was exactly the same sort of armor that would prove useful when dealing with steel smelting, or heavy duty Smithing. The restaurant was hamming it up, of course.

But the dish did contain poison.

Jane’s eyes watered as the waiter brought the dish next to her, allowing her to experience the red glow before he set it down in front of her. When Jane just smiled wide, the waiter set down the food like it was a bomb waiting to go off. Jane laughed. Her nose ran. Her face tinted a bit red, but she just smiled, and said, “It’s beautiful.”

Everyone else, by this point, had scooted their chairs away from her. The waiter watched to see if Jane would cower, or persevere. Every nearby person watched. A few new people even showed up to try to get a glimpse of the new challenger of ‘Red Wall’, the name of the dish that now sat in front of Jane.

Even Erick watched, enraptured, as Jane stuck her fork into a bit of red chicken, and pulled it out of the red morass of liquid pain. The rice and the air sparkled as she lifted the bite up, closer to her mouth. Tears already flowed down her face.

Erick broke the silence all around, saying, “Maybe you shouldn’t—”

Jane took the bite.

Silence descended.

Tears flowed. Her face reddened. Her eyes took on a red tint. Even the roots of her hair turned from brown to the barest reddish. That was apparently normal, though. If she ate the whole thing, her whole countenance would turn bright, neon red until the next time she [Cleanse]ed herself. Apparently, the spice that produced this effect was a happy accident from the attempted invention of a beauty product.

Jane swallowed. The roots of her hair turned bright red. Her irises took on a definite red tint.

The watching crowd erupted in cheers. ‘Eat eat eat!’

But then Jalrock started telling people to, “Disperse! Disperse! Even Saviors of Light gotta eat and you all saw your show! Disperse!”

Teressa, meanwhile, lifted up her veil and gave a gleeful grin at Jane, saying, “I bet you can’t finish the whole thing.”

Jane scowled, though the effect was much diminished by her tears and snot. She took a second bite. After a while, she swallowed.

“Are you taking Health damage?” Erick asked, trying not to be too concerned.

Both he and Nirzir were too entranced to eat. Teressa had no such problems. She smiled as she ate. Later, Erick would notice that Poi seemed to specifically eat between Jane’s bites. Perhaps he was second-hand tasting everything that Jane tasted, and it was not a fun experience?

Jane finished off her third bite, then squeaked, “Nothing I can’t handle.”

At the end of lunch, Jane had finished her whole meal, and as people cheered and she shook the hand of the Cook, she got her image captured in a lightpainting by one of the waiters who was good with that. Jane’s hair and eyes were shockingly bright red. Her image joined the rest of the images hanging on the ‘Winner’s Wall’.

As they left the restaurant, having not paid for anything because the owner would not accept payment from the Savior of Light, Erick decided that he could probably try a 1 star meal, the next time.

Jane had joked about trying a 13 star meal from their ‘secret menu’ when she was near the Cook of Hothalls, whereupon the man smiled and said she was now qualified to try that, if she wanted.

They would be going back at least once more.

- - - -

The Black Blade was both the name of the high-class front offices of the Adamantine Smiths, and of an ancient weapon held under heavily enchanted glass in the middle of their main showroom.

Getting to that main showroom usually required going through a few checkpoints, all of them crawling with guards and requiring people to submit to a lot of checks, but Jalrock made those checkpoints trivial.

And now, Erick and his people were here, in the main showroom, looking at blocky black armor and blocky black swords and shields and everything in between. Adamantium armor was not fancy; it was utility made manifest. Form matched function, and nothing else.

Other people spoke with Smiths here and there, while a few more scattered people looked at weapons and otherwise like they were buying expensive cars. It was a pretty apt metaphor, Erick decided, for even the smallest of daggers, weighing in at half a kilogram, cost 25,000 gold. A Poi-sized set of full plate armor looked to cost 1,500,000 gold, and weigh about 30 kilos. A Teressa-sized set of armor would set Erick back nearly 8 million gold, and weigh in at 160 kilos.

Erick realized that he could not buy this entire place all by himself.

For the first time, he had met his financial match.

While that particular revelation was kinda funny, what was not funny was the namesake of this place.

The Black Blade, the sword, was a hunk of dark metal with the blade two meters long, and a handle that was easily large enough for two hands. It would be the perfect sword for an orcol to use in a single hand, but on anyone else, it resembled more a plank of iron, than like a real, usable weapon. And it floated inside a glass cage, just like how a certain person’s weapon also floated when not in use.

Erick recognized the weapon, because he had seen it multiple times by now.

Erick said, “That’s the weapon Goldie uses.”

There were differences, though; subtle, but still there. This was not the exact same weapon the Shade of Assassination used, but it was close.

While Nirzir, Jane, and Teressa, all realized what Erick was saying at about the same time, Poi already knew the deal. He was already worried, though he was doing a great job of hiding it.

There were at least two reasons for this similarity. Either this place had ties to the Shades, or else they were forced to capitulate to Ar’Kendrithyst’s demands like all the other nations of the world. Probably the latter, now that Erick turned the thought over inside his head, inspecting it for paranoia and finding lots.

Now that Erick was here, and having these sorts of thoughts, he wondered, exactly, how much Ar’Kendrithyst had affected Enduring Forge. Probably lots.

Adamantium was black, after all. The Shades loved black. But they also liked opulence. And everything Erick saw before him was blocky and utilitarian, with zero adornment at all save for discreet runes inscribed on the insides of armors, on the backs of shields, and on other hidden locations.

There was a history there, and it was probably much more complicated than Erick could put together in a few seconds of seeing Goldie’s weapon on display in the middle of the main showroom.

Jalrock brought Erick back to the moment, saying, “The Black Blade hasn’t left that case in hundreds of years. We have made copies of the weapon based on that design, though. Perhaps you have seen one of those?”

“… You’re obviously right.” Erick nodded.

Jalrock nodded, then moved right along, saying, “If you have any questions I can start you off on some answers, but they will be surface answers until we can get a— Ah! There they come now.”

A woman and a man rapidly came out of a side hallway and fixed their eyes upon Erick. Recognition. The man held back, but the woman began a much more sedate, professional walk toward Erick now that her prey was in her sight.

Upon reaching Erick the woman introduced herself as Verizag, one of the senior sellers of the Black Blade. She led him to a desk, with her sitting on one side and Erick on the other.

Verizag asked, “Where would you like to begin your order? Anything specific you’re looking for?”

Erick explained, “Two ritual carving weapons for runework, one for me, another for Nirzir Void Song here. A flying sword for my daughter, Jane. A suit of armor to replace my guard, Poi’s, armor. And a flying shield for my other guard, Teressa; one in her size. If you have any suggestions though, then I am open to them. I haven’t gotten a chance to look over your whole showroom, nor do I know what I am buying, exactly. I only know that you’re the best, and your stuff doesn’t break. That is why I am here.” Erick didn’t want to seem too eager, though, so he digressed, “But honestly, I am not sure why people use metal armor and weapons. It seems like investing in a weapon is asking to get it stolen, or broken. That is what Shades loved to do to all the adventurers who brought that sort of stuff into Ar’Kendrithyst. This was one of the main warnings we gave to people, actually. ‘Don’t trust that anything you take in there will remain under your power’.”

Verizag had looked delighted to be near Erick, and to take his order, but she almost shut down at the mention of Shades. Professionalism quickly followed, though; she was both determined to prove the power of the Adamantine Smiths, and to make a sale. She said, “When dealing with out-sized powers, as per your example, then we can give you no guarantees on the security of the weapons we create. But for everything else, from bandits to Decaying hydras, and especially against telekinetic rippers, our weapons and armor —properly used— have proven themselves thousands upon thousands of times over against those sorts of threats. I challenge any mage of the sixth tier or lower to rip away an invested adamantium weapon, or to latch onto the armor made of the same; they will fail, as they have failed many times before. Even [Metalshape] doesn’t work against adamantium, unless the user is an Adamantine Smith.” She said, “And even in such a case, once adamantium sets, even an Adamantine Smith would have trouble reshaping it. If we could do that, then the very adamantium that holds together Enduring Forge would have been snatched away by bandits and rogue Smiths long, long ago.”

Erick gave no indication that he was impressed, but he was. He said, “You’re going to need to go over the properties of adamantium for me. I haven’t had much experience with that, at all. Where does the process of adamantium creation start? Is it an alloy, or a metal unto itself?”

Verizag nodded. “In its untempered form, adamantium is most often found with copper and nickel, but once it is refined, we end up with a solid silver metal with a faint blue tint that is heavier than gold but in this form it is unusable. It is too hard, too brittle, and breaks too easily. It’s also highly toxic—”

Was it Osmium? It sounded like osmium.

“— but through refining, the addition of mana, and many other metals, the main one which is starsteel, untempered adamantium transitions from silver to something darker. Once the adamantium reaches the point of blackness, like a starless, moonless night, then comes pouring and forging. While the untempered metal can wait around for as long as needed, once the process of final smithing begins, it cannot be stopped, or else the adamantium is ruined.”

Not fully osmium, then. Actually a bunch of different metals. Erick had heard of starsteel spoken right alongside celesteel and hellite, but he didn’t know what starsteel actually was. He didn’t know what the other ones were, either. There were a ton of magical metals and Erick didn’t know about any of them, except for maybe Deep Sky Silver. He was pretty sure that one was (somehow) magical silver.

Verizag continued, her eyes seeming to get brighter as she got more animated, “But with an adamantium weapon in hand, or armor on your body, and with the casting of magic into that item, you will begin the attunement process. For adamantium items, properly runed, can take in spellwork and you can use your [Force Weapon] through a sword, or your [Conjure Armor] as your adamantium armor, allowing them both the power of the adamantium, and the security of a Force spell in their control!” She realized she was speaking too loudly, and calmed. “It is this capability —and the accompanying runework— that makes adamantium so much better than every other metal out there, for adamantium takes in the spellwork it is provided, and multiplies that spellwork through the capability of unbreakable adamantium.

“Instead of a generalized enchantment that you can keep powered with crushed core dust, or by storing your flying sword near a grand core, you can use your own mana and your own spells to keep our adamantium items empowered.

“We can even work with you if you have specific, standard spells you wish imbued into your weapons or armor. [Flying Sword] is a popular choice and we already have many of those swords available.” The woman said, “In short, adamantium allows anyone to wield what is basically an artifact of their own making, under their own, personal control.”

Verizag smiled brightly, knowing she had nailed her speech.

Erick was suitably impressed. He glanced around the room, looking at the weapons and armor in a new light. Then he turned back to the woman. “What about imbuing truly odd spells?”

With full confidence, Verizag said, “Adamantium can handle almost any spell that you know of, as long as you have the Ancient Script with you. We can even work with you in the creation process if you wish to enchant a spell of your own into the metal, but this will create an item that only you, or someone with your same spells, could ever use.”

“Ah…” Erick said, “Well that’s slightly disappointing. I do not have the Ancient Script.”

Verizag confidence did not falter; it grew. She strongly said, “You would need to speak to one of our Rune Smiths about uncovering the Ancient Script of your odd spells, but they can uncover the meanings behind most magic under tier three! If I may ask: What spell were you thinking of?”

“[Gate] is only tier 1, but that’s a ridiculous request. All of my spellwork is nonstandard, actually, so I’ll have to bring this up with Grosgrena or your Rune Smiths later.”

“Ah. Well.” The woman said, “We, for sure, have at least one Smith that knows of whatever standard third tier or lower spells you might wish enchanted into an item; I can promise you that. The entire Lower Catalogue of the Mage’s Guild is known to us, and even some of the higher standardized spells, too. [Weaken Monster]s is known to us, and we create many Standing Stones for the Greensoil Republic with that particular spell. We also know many different reflective spells, as those are an often-requested working.”

Erick almost showed her [Animadversion], but he decided against that.

Erick moved right along, “So what’s the deal with the formation-carving daggers?”

Verizag kept right up with him. “An adamantium formation dagger provides excellent mana conductivity for formation-carving rituals and enchantment. Most formation carving tools require elementally or structurally aligned tools to do the job properly; for instance, hellite daggers are best for [Angel Banishing] weapon enchantments, providing a 125% efficiency for mana spent to rune crafted, passing off that strength to the rune itself, enabling the [Angel Banishing] even more power. The same metal would prove very poor at creating protective [Ward]s, though, and likely have an efficiency of less than 40%; you’d spend 100 mana for a basic anti-damage [Ward] but only get 40 points of defense.

“But adamantium is different. One adamantium dagger, properly attuned and aged, will conduct mana into a formation with an 80% to 115% ratio of use-to-loss, allowing you to imbue any spell that you know how to imbue without a strain on your resources. Obviously, adamantium is not the best tool for every job, but if you only have one tool, it is the best tool to have. The strength of variety cannot be underestimated.” She added, “Even so, we have no guarantee on the quality of the runework produced; just on the quality of the tool used to produce the runework.”

Erick understood a lot of that from context clues, but he had no experience with rune crafting.

Erick said, “I’ve used an erasing pen for enchanting, but never a dagger. Is it more or less the same?”

“Slightly different. A pen creates cavities which you then fill with dust and spellwork, but while a dagger does the same, it requires a lot more precision, for there is no easy undoing of the carving you have done. You’re carving magic directly into the history of the target item to be enchanted, after all.”

“Hmm. How does that work? The rune carving process itself.” Erick lifted his eyes toward a side of the room that held a few ritual daggers. They looked more or less like normal daggers, if a bit more blocky than usual. “I don’t see any reservoirs for rads— for cores on those daggers.”

Verizag sat a bit straighter, and said, “You generally hold a grand core in one hand and the formation dagger in the other —usually your dominant hand— and thread the power of the core across your Shroud, flavoring mana as it passes through, then you imbue that power into the dagger, as you carve your spellwork into the target. Some people have success channeling their own mana, but this is an abnormal way to enchant, and The Black Blade holds no responsibility for the quality of enchantments produced with our daggers. The only reasons to buy an adamantium dagger as opposed to more specialized, single spellcarving daggers, is that an adamantium dagger will work for practically all carving purposes, and it will carve into almost any surface. Formation daggers made out of deep sky silver are at the other end of the spectrum, being rather terrible for this sort of work.” She added, “But carving into pre-worked adamantium with an adamantium tool is not possible. It takes an Adamantine Smith to be able to reclaim worked adamantium, and even that rarely ever works.”

This woman was incredibly knowledgeable. Not many people spoke so openly about the soul’s use in enchanting. Most books Erick had read on the subject seemed to specifically step around that part of the enchanting process. Erick reevaluated his opinion of the woman; she wasn’t just a vendor, she had to be a highly placed Smith herself. Or maybe she was an enchanter of some skill.

Erick said, “That’s all very informative. Thank you.”

“Have you decided on which weapons and armor you’d like?”

“Now that I know what I’m looking at, no.”

Verizag’s face did not betray the sudden worry in her heart. Had she fucked up? No. She hadn’t. She correctly deduced that the problem was with Erick.

Erick said, “You’ve been most helpful, but I had no idea that adamantium weapons and armor were capable of such magical feats. Or that ritual daggers were a way of enchanting that I hadn’t tried yet. All of this throws a few easy plans into chaos. For instance—” He turned back to Teressa. “Do you still want a flying shield? Or do you want something else?”

Teressa reported, “I want a [Flying Spell Reflection Shield]. A good one.”

“That’s one change from the plan.” Huh. Teressa must have made a good reflective magic spell when he wasn’t looking. Erick asked the rest of them, “How about everyone else?”

Nirzir said, “I still want a formation dagger.”

“I changed my mind, too.” Jane said, “I want the most personally secured sword possible. It doesn’t have to fly. Something that could never be taken or broken, if possible. I’m not sure what is necessary to accomplish that, though.”

Teressa added, “I want that, too. In addition.”

Poi said, “[Weightless Armor of Silent Reflections]. Full plate.”

And that was another spell made while Erick wasn’t looking. Good for him, too.

Erick turned back to Verizag, saying, “I don’t want anything right now, but they all know what they want, so let’s work on that. It’s my understanding that the creation of these items will be free, but I’ll be paying for the material and the Smiths’ work. I am not quite sure what that means, exactly. Which part is free?”

Verizag smiled professionally, as she avoided directly answering the question, saying, “A 25,000 gold formation dagger will be priced at 13,500 gold. Mayor Arakag’s deal with you cuts the price of all of these items roughly in half.” Then she reached behind her desk and pulled out a catalogue of spellwork. “Shall we begin with your man’s armor?” She flipped through the alphabetically organized book, landing expertly on a page that was already marked with a tab. “Silent Reflections is a rather standard spell, but…”

Soon, an armorer came out and took Poi’s measurements, while other people worked with Jane and Teressa to finalize their desires into a plan of action. That took them a while. They’d get their personalized items in five days.

Nirzir’s dagger was perhaps the easiest purchase. She walked over to section of the showroom wall that held the five formation daggers currently on offer, and she picked one out. All five of them were of roughly the same blocky shape, but their size varied from between 15 centimeters, to 30. Nirzir picked out the second smallest one at 20 centimeters long. It was a bit large for her hands, but she’d grow into it.

As she held the dagger in her hands like it was an unexpected treasure, Nirzir said, “There’s a 5 year waiting list for this. And yet, here we are.”

Verizag said, “There’s a 5 year waiting list for custom products. The waiting list to get into the showroom to see the wares we have currently available is only one year.” She smiled brightly, adding, “But that’s only for people who aren’t Erick Flatt.” She said to him, “If you want a dagger too, in addition to whatever other item you desire, we can certainly accommodate that want.”

Nirzir raised her head to look at Erick.

Erick said, “I might still want a dagger after I talk to Grosgrena and figure out all of my options, but until then, I won’t take more than I need.”

Verizag looked to Erick with a bit more appreciation in her eyes. She gave a small bow.

Of the five of them, only Nirzir and Teressa got what they wanted that day.

Apparently, the Black Blade had an old orcol-sized shield in storage, fit for a Juggernaut, and enchanted exactly how Teressa wanted; [Flying Spell Reflection Shield] was apparently a standard-ish spell. The shield was nearly two meters tall and a meter wide, and pitch black with zero adornments, save for the runework on the protected backside of the shield. It weighed 65 kilos, but Teressa lifted it as though it weighed a small fraction of that. And then she cast into the shield, as Verizag instructed. Teressa's magic soaked into the dark metal like she had actually enchanted it herself, the entire thing taking on a grey cast that lingered in the runework grooves and glinted along the edges. The whole thing seemed to shimmer with a mirror finish when the light hit it right.

Teressa grinned, showing off her lower fangs as she whispered, “It’s beautiful.” She let the shield go, and it hovered there in front of her. At her mental command, the shield moved to her back and held there, waiting for further instructions. Teressa laughed. “It’s great!”

“Yes.” Verizag said, “Adamantium armaments take in spellwork and make it their own, giving the strength of physicality to the ethereal and intangible. Aside from the adamantium shield itself, which is rated to stop a wyrm charge, your [Flying Spell Reflection Shield] should experience a marked increase in stability, magnifying the amount and quality of spellwork you can reflect by a large amount. The baseline increase for your particular shielding spell is anywhere between 2 to 4 tiers, depending on any number of factors. Would you like to test it out before you leave with it? We want you to be satisfied with your purchase.”

“Yes.” Teressa said, “I do want to test it out.”

Erick said, “We’ll be testing them out in private.”

Teressa stood straighter. “Uh. Yes. What he said.”

Verizag smirked, then nodded. “If you’re unhappy with the runework or what it does, bring it back and we can work on a custom shield. We can’t change that one, for it was made how it was made. We can’t even resize it, like how we resize the armors you see on the Elite Guard.” She added, “Almost all of those black armors out there are decades old.”

“Thank you, Verizag.” Erick said, “You’ve been very helpful.”

Verizag bowed deeper, then rose, and said, “Thank you for your patronage, Archmage Flatt. We hope our armaments serve you and your people well. If you ask the Old Smith about your orders for your daughter and your man, I am sure you will be allowed to see them actually get made in the coming days.”

“I might do that.”

- - - -

On the road back toward the nearest Teleport Square, which would get them back to city hall and their rooms in the tower, Jalrock paused in the middle of the street and turned to Erick.

Jalrock said, “Old Smith Grosgrena wishes to know if you’re ‘ready for some learning’, in her words.” He glanced to the people with Erick, adding, “But only you and your man, Poi.”

“Exactly as we already agreed, then.” This place wasn’t nearly as worrying as Songli had been, but Erick still wasn’t willing to go anywhere on his own unless he had to. He turned to his people, saying, “Jane, Nirzir, Teressa. I’ll meet you back at the room later. If this lasts into the night I might switch you, Teressa, out with Poi.”

Teressa said, “Understood.”

The party split.

- - - -

The Smithy was possibly the most protected space in all of Enduring Forge.

City hall was open to anyone who wanted to be there. You could walk down any street of the main city without facing too much scrutiny from the guards, and you could even sneak into the protected and empty evacuation shelter in the middle, though you’d get kicked out pretty damned fast, and you might get a black eye for your trouble. You could even venture down to the bottom level, to see some of the defensive structures and the constant war going on at the cavern’s surface. Erick wasn’t the only tourist visiting Enduring Forge that day, and he saw a lot with his scattered Ophiel.

According to Jalrock, the actual population of Enduring Forge was 110,000 people, while thirty thousand people were visitors, like Erick. Spur had similar ratios, but with at least twice as many people. Erick wasn’t sure how many people had moved to Spur since he had left, but there were certainly more there now than had been there before Last Shadow’s Feast.

But the Smithy was the one fully protected part of Enduring Forge. None of the visitors were allowed past the Teleport Square that sat outside the massive metal edifice that surrounded the Smithy, like it was its own private city. In a lot of ways, it was exactly that. They had their own water systems, their own gardens, and full-scale anti-magic runework that encapsulated the whole place in an ovoid shield; except for the spit of land where Erick now stood, atop the only public Teleport Square on the island.

Erick suspected the protective sphere was actually a Domain of some sort.

According to Jalrock, the Smiths brought metals and otherwise into the Smithy through a [Gate], provided to them by some contractor they didn’t talk about. For visitors (which were very rare) and for students and faculty (which usually stayed at the Smithy full time), the only way into the island was the giant door in front of Erick. That door was ten meters tall, and three meters wide. No one stood at that door, protecting it from the outside; that would have been a liability. There were people standing on the other side, though, and they began moving to open the massive thing as Erick stepped closer.

Like a ponderous beast, the gates opened with nary a sound save for the clacking of ratchet mechanisms inside the walls.

Jalrock continued to speak, saying, “[Scry]s from an outside source will not pierce the barrier, so Yggdrasil’s eye will go out, but since you are going inside yourself, your Ophiel shouldn’t experience any such problems—”

Ophiel trilled in recognition of his name.

“—and. Uh! There’s Old Smith Grosgrena.” Jalrock bowed as he stepped away from Erick, saying, “It has been a pleasure. Thank you for your fight against the Dark. I don’t think you understand the boon your actions have brought us, but know that the people of the Underworld know you as our Savior of Lig—”

Grosgrena moved like an ancient shrunken spectre, as she stepped forward. She came to within five meters of her side of the wall, moving a lot faster than Jalrock would have liked, for sure, because Grosgrena called out, “Jalrock! Quit altering his friction!”

“I will leave you now,” Jalrock said, stepping backward, going demure and submissive.

Grosgrena called out to Erick, “Come on, now. I ain’t as young as I used to be, and even if you are super smart this learning is gonna take you a while.”

Erick said, “Thank you for the opportunity to learn, Grosgrena.” As he stepped forward, to cross the barrier that surrounded the Smithy, he sent a ‘Farewell, for now,’ to Yggdrasil, right before the [Scry] eye vanished from his shoulder. Ophiel went temporarily blind, all of his eyes turning milky white before his sight came back, as Erick stepped through the doors, into the Smithy proper.

And the world changed.

From outside, this place looked like a collection of rough buildings and smokestacks and carts of metal.

But from the inside...

A bunch of buildings sat all over the place, while green grass grew in the spaces between those buildings, and nice shade trees provided nice sitting spots on rolling hills here and there. The whole place reminded Erick of college. Sure, there was magic in the air, and heavy duty spellwork locked this place off from the rest of the world, but students of the Smithing arts studied books under those trees, and more than one gaggle of girls way over yonder talked about whatever, like the world outside wasn’t a hellish danger to them all.

Grosgrena let Erick appreciate the view for a moment, before saying, “Not what you expected?”

“It makes sense that you show illusions to the rest of the world.” Erick said, “I did not expect to see what looked like a university.”

“Got to teach the next generation, and not everyone is an Adamantine Smith. A lot of our youngsters prefer the Adamantine Rune Carver path.” The Old Smith started walking forward, and Erick walked beside her. “We even have a few more esoteric Classes in the mix. Adamantine Tailors do a damned fine job of making robes for the magey types out there, while Adamantine Artillerists are what you’d see Down Below ensuring that the bigger monsters never stick their heads into the Cavern. Those explosion junkies shoot [Fireball]s from their adamantine cannons that are large enough that you might call them Super Large Area spells.” She added, “Not technically, though; that’s just the power of adamantium for you.”

The doors to the compound closed behind them with a loud ka-shunk and a rtch-tch-tch-tch.

“The actual smithing of adamantium is done by Adamantium Smiths.” Grosgrena said, “The rest of them can move it around a bit, but it takes a Smith to actually work the metal like it deserves to be worked.”

“Verizag at the Black Blade spoke up the stuff quite well.” Erick said, “We still have to test the veracity of some of her claims, but from what I heard, adamantium is truly a miracle metal.”

“It’s alright.” Grosgrena smirked. “It’s what we built our power on, for sure. There might be other metals better suited for specific needs, but adamantium can do everything pretty damn well.” She stopped at a crossroads between two different buildings, while the way ahead passed through an opening in a meter high wall, before continuing on to even more buildings. Down that way, Erick saw smoke billowing up from more than a few structures, while here, there was no smoke anywhere; just office-like spaces. Grosgrena said, “Before we begin, I need to tell you a few things. Mainly: Whatever adamantium work you do here likely won’t be repeatable anywhere else; not without either [Duplicate] or an Adamantium Class. It’s like with your Particle Mage Only spells. I heard [Call Lightning] was one of em? Yeah. You understand. Only an Adamantium Class can truly work with adamantium after it’s alloyed and tempered. This is one of the main reasons we’re even agreeing to teach you at all, for even if you got the learning, without the Class, it’s useless.

“But! You’re you, so if you do figure out how to circumvent this reality as we know it, I’d warn you not to go spreading around this knowledge. Make no mistake, for we would never do anything against you. We honor what you did inside Ar’Kendrithyst.” She stared up at Erick, the wrinkles around her eyes deepening as she squinted at him. “It’s the wrought. Adamantium is their Royal Caste, and they tolerate Enduring Forge since we got deals and history with them, but they ruthlessly go after anyone else usurping their strength. Know that the wrought basically allow us to live and sell our weapons because we’re allied against the Dark, and that’s about it.” She stared for a bit longer, gauging whether or not Erick understood.

And he did. Maybe more than Grosgrena did—

Maybe just as much, actually. He shouldn’t go assuming Grosgrena’s history, for she had probably seen a lot in her long life down here in the dark.

But how Erick understood it: The wrought were one of the main forces that marched on the world when a Forgotten Campaign was called by the gods to erase some catastrophic new knowledge from civilization. So far, the only Forgotten Campaign that Erick was absolutely sure about was when the gods erased Atomic Magic from the world. But now, hearing what he was hearing, he thought there might have been a Forgotten Campaign against the easy knowledge of adamantium, too. If adamantium actually gave physical weight to the ethereal, and if it was usable by everyone, and if it was a simple alloy instead of its own metal, and if it required a specific Class to fully use (that part was the biggest giveaway), then yes; there had to have been a Forgotten Campaign against adamantium, too.

Erick’s own experience with Particle Magic checked a lot of those same boxes.

He hoped Particle Magic wouldn’t suffer the same fate.

Erick said, “I understand.”

“I knew you would, soon as I laid it out there. And now that the warning is out of the way:” Grosgrena gestured left, forward, then to the right, asking, “How do you want to start. Academically? Practically? Or do you want to pull apart some metals for me, and for yourself? I got some untempered adamantium if you want to take it apart; see what’s inside.”

Erick instantly said, “Let’s pull apart some metals.”

The wrought probably should scare him more than they did, but whatever! Erick was going to get his knowledge, and he was going to use that knowledge to make the world a nicer place.

And adamantium Gates sounded just about perfect; practically immutable and highly magical, the best combination. He knew there was a Worldly Path reason to come here, and this was that reason.

Grosgrena smiled wide. “Hot damn! Let’s go fuck up some alloys!” With an excited step, the ancient woman practically hopped down the right path, toward a large building without any windows, and without much foot traffic.