The land changed as they traveled northeast.

What began as Emberleaf's warm trails and sun-dappled hills slowly gave way to rough stone veins, ancient slagfields, and molten channels carved through the mountains by generations of dwarven mining. Here, the soil was thin and blackened, and the air shimmered from underground heat vents that hissed softly like the land was breathing.

Kael stepped lightly over a deep crack in the path, watching the faint red glow pulse far beneath. He didn't flinch—just adjusted his footing and moved on.

Behind him, Nana walked with her usual quiet awareness, her glaive strapped across her back and her eyes scanning the jagged horizon. Rimuru floated just ahead of Kael in a wide, lazy figure-eight. She had dressed herself for diplomacy: a single tiny satchel draped across her gooey form, a monocle for style, and a comically oversized pen stuck behind her… was that a slime ear?

She sparkled faintly in the rising heat.

"Are you sure we're not melting?" she muttered. "Because I feel like if I squint hard enough, the rocks are starting to sweat."

"They're not," Nana said without looking.

Kael smiled faintly. "We're close."

The cliffs ahead began to narrow into a wide cut canyon—walls sheer and black, runes glowing faintly along the seams of the rock. Cranes and gear lifts churned overhead, some powered by mana cores, others by ancient waterwheels fed through geothermal veins. It was a fusion of old dwarven engineering and new desperation—functional, worn, but humming with life.

Great Sage:

"Approaching Runebrick perimeter. Fortified trade city. Population: 3,240. Diplomatic history: fractured post-collapse of Emberhollow–Greed Accord. Primary cultural values: proof of work, flame integrity, physical demonstration over spoken contract. Recommended strategy: lead with innovation, not negotiation."

Kael tapped the satchel on his hip. Inside, nestled in a foam-mana wrap, was the first fully functional Mana Repeater—Emberleaf's most advanced project yet. A fire-synced weapon capable of channeling stabilized mana bursts through a focus rune array, optimized for use by magically inclined soldiers with basic training.

He hadn't brought it to threaten.

He'd brought it to prove Emberleaf could build.

"Dwarves trust tools," Kael said quietly. "We didn't come to flatter them. We came to give them something they can hold."

"And if that doesn't work?" Rimuru asked.

"Then I let you eat the contracts."

Rimuru perked up. "Really?"

"Not the first one."

They crossed the final ridge—and there it was:

Runebrick.

A mountain fortress built inward, not outward. Its outer wall looked more like a dam than a defense—sloped, hexagonal stone reinforced with ancient earthrunes and glowing furnace seals. Tower balconies jutted from within the cliff like stone ribs, each one pouring black smoke and orange heat into the air above. The gate wasn't a drawbridge or portcullis, but a rotating hex-lock, each ring turning independently before releasing a blast of steam and groaning open.

A checkpoint waited.

Four dwarves stood at attention in stone-and-iron uniforms, each bearing curved fire picks and rune-scribed vambraces. Their leader was taller than the others, with broad shoulders, ember-gold eyes, and a tight braid laced with an iron spike.

She looked Kael over with the full weight of someone who had zero time for pomp.

"Envoy from Emberleaf?" she asked.

Kael stepped forward. "Kael Drayke. We're here to open trade—if your forge still remembers trust."

The dwarf eyed him… then the satchel.

"What's in the bag?"

Kael opened it and withdrew the Mana Repeater, setting it gently on the blackstone table between them. The weapon was sleek—bronze-plated, rune-channel etched, the barrel heat-vented and hand-carved at the grip.

"Something we built," Kael said. "No threats. No gifts. Just proof."

The dwarf leaned in.

"Looks like a torch with ambition."

Rimuru hovered next to it. "It hums if you pet it right."

Kael gestured calmly. "Test it. You'll see what we're really offering."

The dwarf studied him a moment longer.

Then she turned sharply and nodded toward the forgeway beyond the gate.

"Let's see if your toy sings in stone. Welcome to Runebrick."

The forge-floor of Runebrick was not built for ceremony.

There were no silk banners, no marble columns. Just heat, motion, and the scent of molten steel.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Kael stood on the raised overlook, watching the heart of the dwarven stronghold pulse below. Dozens of forges lined a vast circular chamber carved straight from the mountain's belly. Steam hissed through overhead vents. Hammerfall rang out like thunder. Glowing orange runes webbed across the stone floor in precise, symmetrical arrays, feeding mana from deep core reserves into every forge station.

At least half the smiths were already watching him.

Some openly. Some through narrowed eyes and tightened grips on their tools.

Their guide—Magrun Bronzeweld, Runebrick's trade minister and a master smith in her own right—walked with purposeful steps ahead of them, heavy boots striking against iron-paneled walkways. Her voice echoed as she spoke without turning:

"Before you sit at our table, you show us what you've built. That's the way of Runebrick. Words fade. Steel remembers."

Kael nodded. "That's fair."

They descended a spiral ramp to the forge floor proper. At the center stood a large demonstration dais—a testing platform surrounded by a curved blast wall and three hardened mana-target columns.

Kael recognized the setup immediately. It wasn't ceremonial. It was industrial. Made for evaluating magical weapons at full power.

Rimuru floated beside him, eyes brightening. "Ooooh. They built you a trial arena. You think they'll let me fire it?"

"Let me survive this one first," Kael said under his breath.

Magrun turned, crossed her arms, and raised one bushy brow. "So? This Emberleaf invention you carried like it might bite—show us."

Kael stepped up and placed the Mana Repeater on the stone stand. The forge glow caught the bronze casing just right, and the etched flame crest of Emberleaf shimmered faintly across the barrel.

He spoke as he activated the safety glyph. "Compressed flame cores. Stabilized by a triple-inscribed fire weave. Cast spells through the channel—not thrown, fired. Controlled bursts, minimal overspill."

One of the dwarves on the sidelines muttered, "Sounds like a flamethrower with manners."

Kael grinned. "Try it."

Magrun approached, clearly skeptical. She lifted the weapon with both hands—carefully, like she'd handled hundreds of tools and knew exactly how many pretenders had passed through her forge.

She pointed it toward the first mana pillar.

The glyph at the base glowed orange.

Magrun tapped the focus rune.

Boom.

A tight burst of compressed flame spiraled through the air, fast and clean. It struck the mana pillar dead center, burning away the outer coating in a tight ring of molten stone.

The forge floor went quiet.

The second shot—fired without comment—pierced the next target with barely a flash. Precision, not destruction.

The third she angled downward, toward a fire-hardened plate near her feet. It vibrated, but held.

Magrun lowered the Repeater slowly.

"Well," she said. "You made a dragon's whisper into a hammerstroke."

She looked up at Kael with new eyes—not impressed, but interested.

"What do you want in return?"

Kael stepped forward, voice steady. "We need building materials. High-tolerance metals, construction teams, and mineral shares. In return, Emberleaf offers three things: mana tech, trade exclusivity for the repeaters… and political honesty."

"Honesty?" Magrun snorted. "Don't waste the forge's heat."

"I won't," Kael said. "We've had our cities burned by politics. I'm not here to light more fires—I'm here to rebuild from the embers."

Magrun stared at him for a long time.

Then she handed Rimuru the Repeater.

"Good weapon," she said. "Now let's see if your paperwork's just as sharp."

Rimuru saluted with her whole body. "Diplomatic blob reporting for duty!"

Kael winced. Magrun only smirked.

Magrun's forge-office was built into a hollow alcove overlooking the molten stream that powered Runebrick's lower furnaces. The walls were carved from blackstone laced with fireglass veins, and the floor hummed faintly from redirected heat. Stacks of runescript ledgers towered in neat columns beside drafting tables, blueprints, and thick slabs of mana-inscribed ore.

No chairs. No throne. Just a wide stone bench and a slab table scattered with tea, hardened scones, and a sealed contract scroll the size of Rimuru.

Kael stood on one side, arms loosely folded. Rimuru floated just above the edge, sniffing the ink.

"You've forged something impressive," Magrun said, pouring tea into a pair of steam-proof mugs. "But Runebrick doesn't shake hands—we hammer terms."

Kael inclined his head. "That's what we came to do."

Magrun unrolled a thick parchment that glittered faintly with binding glyphs. The text adjusted as it unfurled, rewriting itself based on ambient mana levels and the identities in the room.

Rimuru's eyes lit up. "Ooooh. Reactive paper! Wait—wait, are those edible fibers?"

Magrun smirked. "Old Greed-border trick. Contracts made from grain-pulp and bitterroot ink. Easy to destroy when someone starts getting clever."

Rimuru poked a corner with a pseudopod. "Tastes like overregulation."

Kael suppressed a smile.

The terms were surprisingly clear:

Emberleaf would provide:

Three prototypes of the Mana Repeater

A rotating envoy slot for tech demonstrations

Shared schematics on non-combat mana tools (e.g., stabilized forgelights)

Runebrick would provide:

Access to two of their mineral quarries

30 skilled dwarven builders on rotating deployment

Rights to install a mana-forge capsule beneath Emberleaf, monitored by both sides

Magrun watched Kael read.

"You build strange," she said. "Open. Wide. You let goblins wear tabards and slimes make legal jokes. Makes the world nervous."

Kael met her gaze without blinking. "The world should be nervous."

He pressed a thumb to the mana-seal. It pulsed.

"I'm not building something for the old kingdoms. I'm building something after them."

Great Sage:

"Pact registered. Title updated: Emberleaf recognized as a cross-border trading faction. Regional reputation (Greed border): Rising."

Magrun nodded once.

Then she rolled up the backup copy of the contract and handed it—intentionally—to Rimuru.

The slime stared at it like it might attack her.

"Go ahead," Magrun said with a grin. "You earned a bite."

Rimuru slowly devoured the lower edge, chewed thoughtfully, and said, "Tastes like diplomacy. And chalk."

Magrun barked a laugh. "Better than blood and lies."

The sky outside Runebrick was turning amber when Kael and his party departed through the outer ring gate.

The heat faded with every step away from the mountain. Steam no longer hissed from underfoot. The clang of hammers receded into memory. What lingered now was the scent of stone, ink, and something far rarer:

Trust.

Rimuru bounced beside him, her outline glowing with a soft orange hue. She held a shiny casing in her gooey grip—a newly forged dwarven core-shell designed to stabilize unstable magic flows.

"A gift," Magrun had said. "For the next time your blob decides to throw fire at a roof."

Rimuru was already fantasizing about putting "glitter runes" on it.

Nyaro walked behind them, quiet but watchful, eyes scanning the ridgelines without tension.

Kael said nothing for a while.

Not until the spires of Emberleaf were barely visible in the far distance did he finally speak.

"That's one."

"One what?" Rimuru asked.

He paused, then said:

"One stone. One builder. One new name written down without a sword."

Great Sage:

"Current alliances: — Emberleaf (founding capital) — Raveni Forest Kin (limited cultural alliance) — Runebrick Forgecity (provisional trade agreement) Territory recognition outside Ira: initiated. Diplomatic network: forming."

Rimuru tilted her head. "You sound tired. But your heart feels... tall. Like you're standing on something."

"I am," Kael said softly. "The first brick."

As they crested the final ridge before home, Rimuru pulled a scroll from her satchel—one she had been secretly doodling during the forge talks.

It was a rough schematic labeled in bubbly ink: Boomforge v1.0 – Powered by Hope, Goblin Grit, and Kael's Sleepless Nights

Kael looked at it.

Smiled.

And walked forward into the dusk.

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