The sound of hammers continued echoing throughout the square.
'Clang!'
'Clang!'
'Clang!'
Hundreds of sparks flew with every strike, illuminating the faces of the curious onlookers gathered around the makeshift forges.
The heat was intense. Even from several meters away from the furnaces, Kyrian could feel the hot air constantly rising, mixed with the metallic scent of glowing iron and the distinctive aroma of burning spirit coal.
Sweat streamed down the blacksmiths' faces, yet none of them slowed their pace. Every strike was delivered with the same strength and precision as the first.
His eyes followed every movement. Some blacksmiths forged long, curved swords, others worked on spears with gleaming tips, battle axes whose blades seemed capable of cutting through the air itself, full-body armor, and shields that could withstand spiritual attacks.
