Chapter 80: Upgrading the Furnace

The cellar was a cool, dark room built from thick stone blocks. In the back corner stood a heavy brick furnace connected to a long iron chimney that ran up through the roof.

It was an old blacksmith forge, but the iron grates were rusty and the bellows were dry and cracked.

“Why are we down here?” Tibbar asked, rubbing his arms as he looked around the dusty room. “We should be upstairs drinking hot tea and celebrating the fact that we were not turned into roasted rabbit stew.”

“We are down here to upgrade our equipment,” I said.

Sitting in my hands was a glowing sphere of raw thermal power, roughly the size of a heavy cannonball. The outer surface of the core looked like dark ruby glass, and inside its core, swirling currents of intense crimson fire moved around like trapped lightning.

The heat radiating from it was so intense that the damp stone floor around my boots began to dry out in seconds.

“Is that…” Tibbar stammered, pointing a shaking paw at my hands. “Is that what I think it is?”

“It is a high level black dragon mana core,” I stated calmly.

“Are you insane?! You stole a dragon core!” Tibbar screamed, his voice hitting a high squeak that echoed off the stone walls. “From a monster that fell in the middle of the main avenue! While fifty imperial guards and three high mages were standing right there!”

“I did not steal it,” I corrected him. “I collected it. The dragon was not using it anymore, and the imperial mages would have just turned it into weapons for the military. It is much more useful in my furnace.”

“You are really insane!” Tibbar yelled, pacing back and forth across the stone floor while pulling on his ears. “If the crocodile guards find out you have a dragon core in your basement, they will hang us both from the high metal walls of Phoya! They will use our bones as toothpicks!”

“They will not find out,” I said, stepping toward the old brick furnace. “Because by the time I am done, this core will be locked inside three layers of reinforced granite and dark iron. To anyone else, it will just look like a very hot brick.”

I placed the glowing ruby core onto the central stone pedestal inside the furnace. The intense heat immediately turned the cold brick floor a bright orange color.

I pulled out my precision locksmith tools, laying my iron hammers, brass chisels, and spatial keys on a nearby wooden workbench. I pulled down my magnifying loupe over my right eye, activating my Locksmith’s Eye skill.

Bright blue structural lines filled my vision, mapping out the heat flow, the stone density of the furnace, and the internal mana channels of the dragon core.

“Watch the stairs, Tibbar,” I ordered. “Make sure nobody comes down.”

Tibbar grumbled under his breath, but he quickly scampered over to the wooden staircase, sitting on the bottom step with a heavy wrench in his paws, watching the closed trapdoor above.

I focused my mind, tapping into the pool of golden mana inside my core. I did not want to extinguish the dragon core. I wanted to build a precise mechanical throttle around it, allowing me to control its heat output with absolute accuracy.

I picked up three heavy plates of dark steel and four slabs of heat-resistant granite. Using my chisel and hammer, I shaped the granite into a tight circular dome around the glowing ruby core.

Then, I wrapped the dark steel plates around the granite dome, securing them with heavy iron bolts.

Open.

I commanded, tapping the central iron bolt with my golden mana.

The internal structure of the dark steel plates shifted, aligning their molecular layout to form an airtight seal around the fiery sphere.

Next, I installed a brass control dial on the outside of the furnace wall. The dial was connected to a series of internal copper gears that opened and closed tiny heat vents inside the steel dome.

When the dial was turned to the left, the vents closed, sealing the heat inside. When turned to the right, the vents opened, releasing a concentrated beam of scorching crimson flame straight onto the heavy iron anvil above.

Click.

The final gear snapped into place.

The intense, room-baking heat instantly vanished. The glowing crimson light faded away as the steel dome closed tight, leaving only the quiet, efficient hum of contained energy inside the brick furnace.

I turned the brass control dial on the outer wall just one notch to the right.

A tiny vent opened inside the furnace. A soft, hiss echoed through the cellar, and a steady stream of brilliant white heat blossomed beneath the heavy iron crucible.

In less than five seconds, the solid iron plates sitting inside the crucible melted into a glowing, liquid red pool.

I smiled with deep satisfaction.

“It works,” I murmured. “With this furnace, I can melt high grade fantasy metals in seconds. I do not need to waste hours burning expensive coal or charcoal.”

Tibbar slowly walked over from the stairs, staring at the brick furnace with absolute astonishment. He reached out a hesitant paw, feeling the outer brick surface. It was barely warm to the touch, despite holding enough thermal power to melt a building.

“Unbelievable,” Tibbar whispered, looking at me with a mixture of fear and deep admiration. “You turned a legendary monster’s heart into a kitchen stove.”

“It is not a stove, it is a precision forge,” I corrected him with a grin. “Now, help me carry these steel ingots over. We have work to do.”

For the next four days, the city of Phoya slowly recovered from the chaos of the dragon attack.

The imperial guards cleared the massive dragon carcass from the central avenue, taking three whole days to haul the bones away in heavy iron wagons.

The imperial mages spent hours searching the road for the dragon’s missing mana core, eventually concluding in their official report that the core had destabilized and disintegrated into useless dust upon impact with the ground.

While the city officials were busy rebuilding stone walls and repairing broken steam pipes, business at The Earthen Vault began to grow rapidly.

News of our shop surviving the dragon’s crimson fire breath spread through the commercial district like wildfire.

People talked about how the stone building on the corner stood firm while the tea house across the street suffered scorched walls.

Merchants and lower nobles began to believe that our shop was built with special defensive magic.

On the fifth morning after the attack, the sun was shining brightly, and our showroom was packed with curious customers.

“I tell you, gentlemen!” Tibbar’s loud, cheerful voice echoed through the shop.

He was standing on a small wooden crate behind the mahogany counter, gesturing wildly with his paws while three wealthy dogfolk traders listened intently.

“Our Earthen Vaults are indestructible! When that black beast rained fire down from the sky, did our walls crumble? No! Did our mahogany door scorch? Absolutely not! Master Silvester’s craft is backed by ancient techniques that protect your gold from fire, thieves, and natural disasters!”

“Is it true that this safe can withstand dragon flame?” one of the dogfolk traders asked, pointing at a medium-sized granite chest sitting on the display table.

“Test it yourself, my good sir!” Tibbar declared proudly, passing a heavy brass key to the trader. “Place your gold inside, turn the double-dial lock, and see if any pickpocket in this city can scratch the surface!”

The trader tried turning the key, but without knowing the precise combination alignment on the brass dials, the heavy granite deadbolt refused to budge even a millimeter.

“Remarkable!” the trader exclaimed, his tail wagging with excitement. “I will take two of these portable iron lockboxes for my spice merchant ship! Name your price!”

“That will be sixteen gold coins for the pair,” Tibbar replied with a sleek, professional smile. “And we include two custom brass keys with individual serial numbers, free of charge!”

The trader dropped a heavy pouch of gold onto the counter without hesitating.

I sat at my work table in the corner of the showroom, using a small iron magnifying lens and a fine silver file to cut the final notches into a set of custom vault keys.

I listened to Tibbar smoothly close three more sales in less than an hour, collecting gold and silver coins with incredible speed.

The old rabbit man was an absolute master of negotiation. He knew exactly when to push a customer, when to offer a small discount, and how to make every single person feel like they were getting a royal bargain.

By noon, the showroom had finally cleared out as people headed to the local taverns for lunch.

Tibbar hopped down off his wooden crate, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead with a silk handkerchief.

He opened the cash drawer under the counter, staring at the pile of bright gold and silver coins sitting inside with a dreamy, blissful expression.

Enjoying the journey? Don’t let the adventure stop here!