Academic gathering with Lich colleagues

Immelt stood up, a smile blooming on the red dragon's face, and the most beautiful flame of faith rekindled in his eyes.

"I believe you, Lyle."

"Believe in yourself, Immelt. I will provide you with the best stage, but you are still the performer."

Chapter 625 Furnace Fire and Slag

“I need someone, someone who is familiar with the Craftsmen's Council's assessment and has a certain influence. Tell me, Freheimer, do you, as a highly respected dragon priest, have such connections…” Lyle was excited, like an encouraged older brother preparing the best costume for his sister. His feet splashed lava on the floating stones, easily dodging the encirclement of fire elementals. His fingers tapped on the Fire Avoider's helmet, the sound of the collision drowning out the churning and bubbling lava.

Freheimer followed closely behind Lyle, for this energetic young man was like a ignited flame, burning brightly but very unstable. “That’s difficult, Lyle. The Craftsmen’s Council and MacKembert were established at the same time, and all the kingdom’s constitutions were promulgated from that bronze hall. That’s where MacKembert is most stubborn and persistent; you simply cannot amend the Craftsmen’s Council’s assessment regulations.”

Lyle strode among the pumice stones in the lava pool, turning back to speak to the red dragon priest. “I am very clear-headed, Red Dragon Priest. It’s rare for Ominous and I to be on the same page. I have a clear idea in my mind, but I need some clues, some exploitable conditions. I also need some help to let the droplets of thought flow through the channels and converge into an ocean. Perhaps I can change the dwarves’ current situation. You are also dissatisfied with the dwarves’ closed-off state, aren’t you?”

“An interesting topic. I wonder if I could participate, confident guest.” A strange voice rang out in front of Lyle. When Lyle turned around, a dwarf with long, dark, curly hair and imposing clothes stood on the molten steps, extending his right hand to Lyle. After a brief pause, Lyle grasped the dwarf's hand and was lifted ashore.

"Thank you for your help, Your Majesty." Lyle had already seen the well-equipped guards behind the man, so it wasn't hard to guess the identity of the person in front of him, who was wearing a crown on his head.

"Veselg?" The red dragon priest's call caused the dwarf king to loosen his grip on Lyle's hand, and his powerful, iron-like hand pulled the red dragon priest over.

“Veselg Firehammer, honored guest. I am deeply sorry that my uncle has so abruptly invited you to my country without hosting a banquet. I hope to have a chance to make amends, and I can offer you my assistance.”

“It is my honor, Your Majesty Viseilgar. I am Lyle, the Dragon King Priest, and I am here on behalf of the newborn Dragon Father to visit his child.”

“Perhaps we can find a place that’s more comfortable for both of us. The Great Forge is clearly not a suitable place for a long talk.” The bright-eyed dwarf king led Lyle and the red dragon priest up the steps, returning to Mackenbert. Along the way, this gentle king did not display his majesty too much, and his complaints about the red dragon priest were from a familial perspective.

“Uncle, I thought that my assistance last time would make you see me as your helper. I felt guilty for the unfair treatment the Red Dragon received, but you didn’t even inform me of Mr. Lyle’s arrival. If it weren’t for the rumors in the city that the aliens were following the Dragon Priest, I would have continued to be excluded by you. Do you really think I’m untrustworthy?”

The red dragon priest scratched his head sheepishly. "Veselger, I did this to maintain the dignity of the royal family. The last time you shook the heart of the mountain, you already suffered a lot of criticism in the Craftsmen's Council. I can't let bad rumors hurt you any further."

"My family's concealment hurt me even more; a light breeze won't leave a scratch on steel."

The group soon arrived on the street, where the dwarves bowed to the king. After all, Visselg was not wearing the hood that covered his crown. Although the process was not formal, it was an official meeting.

"Come out from among the fire-seekers, Mr. Lyle, and let my people see the guests who have come from afar." The dwarf king's voice was incredibly loud, and his invitation sounded more like a command, reaching the ears of every dwarf.

A crack appeared on the back of the armor, and a tall human stood before a group of dwarves. He stood beside his king, looking down at the noble monarch.

However, the King of Firehammer let out a hearty laugh, opened his arms, and casually embraced Lyle around the waist, patting his back like a friend as Lyle crouched down. The surrounding dwarves fell silent, maintaining their decorum, watching as the dwarf king led the foreign guest away.

“I’ve heard that humans are all tall and thin. It seems there’s some truth to the rumors. Mr. Lyle, you’re very tall and thin. You should definitely eat well later. Roasted lamb and fine wine should make you stronger, at least to make you look more like a Fire Avoider. When I was young, I always thought Fire Avoiders were foreigners.”

Lyle thought of the Fireseekers' problem. Although there were magical devices to adjust the armor's shape, the towering armor was clearly not designed for dwarves, which conflicted with the dwarves' closed and exclusive ideology. That suit of armor...

"The Fire-Avoid Armor is a magical armor forged from dragonfire, created by the red dragon Freyheimer. He prepared it for the first outsider who might ever set foot in Mackenbert. The Fire-Avoid is a symbol, representing the dwarves' hospitality to their guests. Although now it can only gather dust in my workshop..."

Visselg picked up where the red dragon priest left off, smiling apologetically at Lyle. “When I was young, I often came into contact with the red dragon Freheimer because of my family. He was a gentle sage, and his presence was like a warm fire, even though we extinguished that fire ourselves. I still remember the desolate look in my father’s eyes when he passed away, and I admit that my subjects, as my uncle said, have become somewhat rusty. I wanted to change this situation; Immelt would be a new turning point, I once hoped so. But what has happened these days has made me realize that the dwarves can no longer wait for salvation.”

"At least I can't just sit here and wait."

“Mr. Lyle, I want to show you that dwarves are more than what you see. In a glorious past, a flame has been passed down. Come, let’s savor together the flame that inspired my growth.”

"I would like to recommend the best restaurants in MacKenzie to you."

"Melting slag in a furnace."

It was a large tavern with a cobblestone base and pine beams, situated in a passageway between the forging district and the residential area. The incongruous inn stood out even more starkly against the backdrop of steel structures surrounding it. The doors were tightly shut, sheepskin curtains blocked all the windows, and only smoke drifted from the chimneys, merging into Mackenbert's cloud of dust; it was as if the city had abandoned it.

This restaurant, praised by the Dwarf King, was clearly not very popular with the other dwarves.

“I…I won’t go in, Lyle. I don’t need to eat.” The red dragon priest waved his hand with a smile, remaining where he was, his smile somewhat forced.

“Uncle… alright, guards, you all stay outside and wait, that’s an order. Don’t worry, the furnace slag won’t harm anyone.”

Finally, the Dwarf King and Lyle entered the furnace and slag together.

Chapter 626 The Madman's Advice

Lyle's eyes lit up as he lifted the double-layered leather curtain blocking the shop's entrance. Mackenbert had few streetlights, and the glow of the Great Forge cast a dim red glow over the entire city. Combined with the distinctive metal roofs, time seemed to stand still in the dwarf kingdom at dusk.

One by one, magical hanging lamps were suspended from the supporting pillars of the furnace molten slag, their clear light like wiping away the dust from everyone's souls.

The furnace slag wasn't exactly clean; scrubbing marks were still visible on the floor. There was no ventilation, and a warm, pungent spice smell filled Lyle's nostrils. This might not have bothered the hairy dwarf, but it made Lyle's nose itch.

Lyle quickly realized what made this restaurant special: its staff and customers.

They were dwarves with disabilities, and judging from the length of their beards, most of them had passed their prime and were in the transitional stage of old age. Dwarves of similar age were rarely seen on Mackenport Street, just as aging heroes always step down from the stage, leaving the spotlight to the vibrant newcomers. But these dwarves looked worse; missing limbs were almost commonplace, and some couldn't even manage to use their metal support legs, having to climb onto the long table with the help of their companions.

Life's hardships seem to have plunged them into a quagmire of despair, but even so, they will turn over and smile at the sky.

They were dressed in their finest clothes, helping each other fasten the locks. Wine glasses were held in their hands, on hooks, and on tongs, then poured into their laughing mouths. They huddled together, crowding the long table like hamsters, passing food from the kitchen behind them.

Each dwarf had a booming voice, and the closed leather seemed to be there to block out their voices.

The noise rose and fell, then was drowned out by a loud shout.

“Look! Brothers! A human! In MacKenzie!!!” Those glowing eyes were hidden in his beard and hair, like shining gems in a bird’s nest.

Soon, the surprise turned into cheers, as if celebrating a grand celebration.

"Come to me, children!"

Two more seats were squeezed out of the crowded long table, and Wieselger invited Lyle to join the banquet with a smile.

Sitting next to Lyle was a guy with a sunken left side of his head. He wore an eyepatch over his left eye and forced a hideous yet honest smile with his grotesque face. He hugged Lyle, touched him lightly, and then turned to his companions to cheer him on.

“Human spellcasters are fragile, so you have to be gentler with them than with dwarf babies, that’s experience! I broke the poor boy’s bones before.”

The one-eyed dwarf turned back to look at Lyle, his eyes seemingly filled with tears.

"Humans are fragile, but their magic is far greater. I will never forget the way Lord Morokui lifted up the earth."

"You dim-witted Philiber, you speak one way to one person and another way to another! You didn't say that the day before yesterday!" The dwarves, who were always trying to undermine each other, started making a ruckus again.

Lyle looked at Wieselger, who was still laughing. He had just heard a joke about a wine glass and a ram.

“They are different from other dwarves, I mean psychologically, they are closer to the dwarves I know.”

"The members of the Furnace Slag are veterans, survivors of the war against the gods, pioneers who have truly touched the world and have a broad vision. As you can see, they are covered in scars. They are the spark of Mackenbert, participants in our glorious era. Although their bodies can no longer perform any normal dwarf work, I still love them. Here, I will never be a leader. I am just a young man who freeloads."

"Firehammer troops, molten slag from the furnace."

Lyle took the glass of wine offered to him, using the spicy and sweet aftertaste to calm his mind.

“The Red Dragon Priest Freiheimer was their leader…”

"That's why my uncle couldn't face them. No one expected the cost of that war, even though we were mentally prepared. When I was young, I wanted to join the battlefield with them, but my father detained me."

We are kings, and we must protect their home.

“But I failed. They have no home. Wounded and out of place with Mackenbert, their attacks on the Red Dragon have stripped them of their glory. I am so heartbroken, Lyle. Why have my people become like this? Their glorious past is forgotten. Can’t the spine broken by the evil god be repaired? We still have hope.”

As the effects of the alcohol began to take hold, Lyle noticed the dozen or so empty wine glasses beside the Dwarf King.

"It's alright, dwarves always discuss business over drinks, but let's have a big meal first."

A commotion arose in the kitchen, and a dwarf cook, missing both legs, wheeled himself over to the side of the long table, untied his apron, glanced at Lyle and Wieselger a few times, and then picked up a wine glass.

"Let's get started, brothers!"

"The fiery hammer will burn forever!"

"A toast to our new guests!"

……

After a hearty meal, the alcohol and fats underwent a wondrous chemical reaction in his stomach, leaving Lyle slightly dizzy and lightheaded in the warm waves of flavor. He forced himself to resist the urge to let this ominous sign rob him of this enjoyment. Lyle's expression returned to calm as he looked at his king amidst a group of drunken dwarves.

“Weapons are for killing, and the best test of a weapon is destruction. I admire the abilities of the Red Dragon Immelt, but the works of the Craftsmen’s Council will ultimately be used in the army, and I cannot allow soldiers to go into battle with weapons that have no lethality. The Craftsmen’s Council will not change its own rules either. We are realistic, Lyle.”

Who are your enemies?

“Those evil gods’ servants, those worms lurking deep in the earth, they will always return. To prevent the tragedies of the past from happening again, we must always be prepared, and the soldiers’ training must continue at all times.”

"Therefore, the weapons are also frequently upgraded. All the weapons used in the assessments are new, in order to test the new works in the best possible condition?"

"Mr. Lyle is joking. Although we are skilled in forging, we are not so extravagant as to use new weapons to set off the Craftsmen's Council. Those battle swords used in the assessment have all been used a few times and are defective products that the soldiers do not feel comfortable with, but they are absolutely genuine as a touchstone."

Lyle smiled.

The Dwarf King looked at the young man whose demeanor had suddenly changed. His dark eyes seemed to have a magical power, drawing all his attention to the boy who had become somewhat dangerous. The snoring of the sleeping dwarves was becoming increasingly faint.

Lyle's lips moved.

"Is destruction really the best standard for testing weapons? I don't think so."

“Weapons are for killing. So why not change the assessment to killing? Let the dwarves wear armor and test the weapons’ lethality. Only weapons that drink blood are the best weapons.”

"Veselger, use the weapons forged by the red dragon Immelt to kill."

The dwarf king's eyes shone with divine light, and the flush of drunkenness still lingered on his face.

Looking at that smiling human was like peering into an unspeakable abyss.

“Absurd.” That was Wieselger’s only response.

“Absurd, nonsensical…” Lyle smiled and nodded, agreeing with his assessment.

"I have another word to explain these things. It's something that theory and reality cannot achieve, something that truth cannot control..."

"Miracle."

Chapter 627 The Power of the Red Dragon

It was unrealistic to try and persuade the Dwarf King with a whim or wild remark, and neither of their minds were swayed until they parted ways. Perhaps ending it with a joke, like friends parting amicably, was the best outcome.

Standing there watching Veselg's retreating figure, the Dwarf King turned back with a stiff smile before returning to his palace. With her back to the shop's molten lava, Nia's tentacles climbed onto Lyle's shoulder, watching the Dwarf King's silhouette merge with Mackenbert's radiance.

"What did Lyle discover?"

At Lyle's request, Freheimer led the two to the Dragonfire Forge, a place where red dragons rested and forged, located on the edge of Mackenbert's forging area, next to a natural lava waterfall.

"The red dragon Immelt was bestowed by her dragon father with the powers of life and fire. The way to fuse these two into one is through forging, giving new life to matter through the hammering of fire. The weapons used in the craftsman's test were never newly made; they were training tools for dwarven soldiers, so they couldn't possibly remain brand new. The weapon Immelt forged inherited her power. She failed the test because she 'strengthened' her 'test paper.' She made broken objects hard and flawed existence beautiful."

“But that’s not enough. A normal blacksmith can also repair and reinforce weapons and armor, so Immelt isn’t even a complete blacksmith.”

The truth seemed to have been revealed, but the reality before them was less than ideal. Although the red dragon Immelt could be a good repairman, even the best repairman wouldn't be a master blacksmith. She still couldn't pass the test.