Without waiting for her answer, Logan vanished—teleporting with Silvia's skill. He hadn't fully mastered the spell yet, so his first warp only brought him to the manor gates. He clicked his tongue in annoyance before warping again, this time arriving just outside the barracks.
The forge was alive with motion.
Mole beasts dug precise trenches and molds into the earth, while raptor-like creatures assisted by heating up metal while large snakes dragged materials between stations. Flames roared from the oversized smithy—built specifically to withstand the insane heat required to forge weapons for heroes, monsters, and everything in between.
Logan stepped through the iron gate, eyes already scanning for one person: Ruben.
He briefly considered asking what the molten molds were for, but figured it was better to wait. He'd let the craftsmen explain once they were ready. This wasn't just a forge—it was an orchestra of hammers, sparks, and molten magic.
