The mountain did not welcome them.
It loomed—vast, ancient, carved not by nature alone but by will. Stone had been shaped, forced, commanded into form. Massive gates stood embedded within its face, etched with glowing runes that pulsed like a slow heartbeat beneath the surface.
The air grew heavier as they approached.
Even the horses slowed.
Solarynth's gaze lifted, studying the structure. The stone… it felt alive. Not in the way forests breathed or oceans moved—but something deeper. Something forged with intent.
"State your purpose."
The voice came like grinding stone.
Two dwarves stepped forward from the gate, each barely reaching Solarynth's chest—but their presence was immense. Their bodies were thick with muscle, armor layered in heavy plates, eyes sharp and unwelcoming.
Their gaze landed on Louis.
Then shifted.
To Solarynth they did not hide their reaction.
"…That one."
One guard narrowed his eyes.
"He's wrong."
Silence fell.
Grace's grip tightened slightly.
Omen shifted, ready—but Louis raised a hand subtly.
"We're here on royal business," Louis said calmly. "We seek the smith known as Steel Beard."
The guards didn't respond immediately.
Their eyes lingered on Solarynth.
Judging, Measuring.
Then one of them spat to the side.
"Tch. Surface people always bring trouble."
A pause.
Then the gates began to move.
Stone groaned as the massive doors split open, revealing darkness beyond lit only by a faint orange glow.
"Don't cause problems," one guard muttered.
His eyes flicked to Solarynth one last time.
"Or you won't leave."
The world beneath the mountain was alive heat struck them first.
Then sound.
Metal clashing. Hammers striking. Fire roaring.
The city stretched endlessly beneath the mountain's hollowed core—bridges of iron crossing rivers of molten lava, glowing crystals hanging like stars from the cavern ceiling, entire districts carved into layered stone.
Everywhere Creation.
Dwarves moved with purpose, carrying metal, forging weapons, shaping armor. Sparks filled the air like fireflies born from violence.
Solarynth slowed his horse slightly.
Watching, Learning.
"This place…" he murmured. "…it breathes."
Grace smiled faintly.
"Dwarves don't just build," she said. "They create."
Omen cracked his neck.
"Yeah. Loudly."
Rook said nothing—but his eyes moved constantly, scanning.
Louis led them deeper.
Past markets of weapons and armor.
Past smiths shaping steel with bare hands and flame.
Until They heard it.
"HEY!, WHAT KIND OF USELESS IDIOT BURNS PERFECT MEAT?!"
The voice echoed above everything else.
Loud, Aggressive, Hungry.
They turned a corner—
And there he was.
A massive dwarf stood behind a forge-grill hybrid, flames roaring beneath slabs of meat. His beard was thick, wild—streaked with iron dust and ash. His left arm was mechanical, tubes running along it, small canisters attached to his back.
He held a chunk of meat in one hand and Bit into it.
Then turned.
"Oh."
He chewed.
"…Customers."
Silence.
Omen blinked.
"…That's him?"
Grace whispered, "…I think so."
The dwarf squinted at them then his gaze landed on Solarynth.
He stopped chewing.
"…The hell are you supposed to be?"
Solarynth met his gaze calmly.
"Solarynth… Caelaris."
The dwarf snorted.
"Sounds expensive."
He pointed the half-eaten meat at him.
"You look like you've never eaten real food in your life."
Solarynth paused.
"…I have not."
The dwarf barked a laugh.
"Ha! Knew it."
He turned back to the grill.
"Name's Steel Beard. Some idiots call me Tank. Don't care which—long as you don't waste my time."
Louis stepped forward.
"We came—"
"I heard you the first time, armor boy," Steel Beard cut him off. "You all look like trouble. Especially tall and shiny over there."
He jerked his thumb at Solarynth.
Then Without warning—
His mechanical arm shifted.
Click.
Whirr.
A syringe extended from his palm, stabbing into the meat. Thick red liquid injected deep into it.
He lifted it, Bit down.
And the air changed His muscles tightened.
Expanded,
Veins surfaced slightly beneath his skin.
A faint red aura flickered around him.
He exhaled.
"…That's better."
Omen leaned forward.
"…What the hell was that?"
Steel Beard smirked.
"Ketchup."
Silence.
"…What?"
"Speed boost," he said, casually lifting a massive anvil beside him with one hand.
"Cuts the useless weight off your body. Makes you move right."
He dropped it with a heavy THUD.
"Mustard's for stamina. Mix both right…"
He grinned.
"…you get something worth fighting."
Solarynth watched closely, Analyzing,
Understanding.
Then—
Steel Beard's eyes shifted back to him and something changed.
He stepped closer
Slow and Careful.
"…Hold still."
Before anyone could react—he grabbed Solarynth's chin.
Turned his face slightly.
Stared directly into his eyes.
Silence.
Then—
"…Yeah."
His tone dropped.
No humor, No insult.
"…That's bad."
Grace stepped forward.
"You noticed?"
Steel Beard didn't look away.
"Noticed? I can see it."
He released him, took a step back.
"You're not just looking at the world."
A pause.
"You're tearing through it."
Solarynth remained silent.
Listening.
"Your optic nerves aren't built for that," Grace added. "They're strained."
Steel Beard scoffed.
"Strained? No."
He crossed his arms.
"They're burning."
Silence fell.
"You keep forcing that power…"
His gaze sharpened.
"…and you won't just go blind."
A beat.
"You'll lose what makes you, you."
The words lingered.
Heavy, Real.
Solarynth said nothing but he understood.
Louis stepped forward again.
"We didn't come for that."
Steel Beard glanced at him.
"Then stop wasting time and talk."
"We need armor," Louis said. "For a royal knight."
Steel Beard snorted.
"Let me guess—big ego, shiny armor, thinks he's untouchable?"
Omen grinned.
"…You've met him?"
"Unfortunately."
Steel Beard turned away, grabbing another slab of meat.
"Yeah, I know the type."
He paused.
Then spoke without turning.
"I'll make your armor."
Relief flickered—briefly.
Then—
"But not for free."
Of course, Louis nodded.
"What do you want?"
Steel Beard glanced back at Solarynth.
Long, thoughtful.
Then—
A grin spread across his face.
Crude, Sharp, Interested.
"…I've got something in mind."
The fire behind him roared louder the forge sparked violently.
And for a brief moment—
Something deeper moved beneath his gaze.
Not just a craftsman, Not just a fool.
But someone who understood far more than he let on.
"…Yeah," he muttered.
"This might actually be fun."