The shuttle hummed softly as it hovered down, the glowing runes on its sides dimming as it touched the ground just outside the Ironheart Clan estate.
Zayden stepped off and immediately noticed the massive gates towering over him.
They weren't just gates — they were works of art.
Black metal reinforced with silver veins formed two titanic doors, each one carved with intricate symbols of hammers, anvils, and molten rivers. On either side of the gate stood two colossal hammers, as if guarding the entrance.
But the most impressive sight was the two soldiers standing in front of the gates.
They weren't like the regular soldiers Zayden had seen at the Central Hub. These men were clad in futuristic armour that shimmered faintly with cosmic energy. The rifles in their hands were marked with glowing stigmas that pulsed like a heartbeat.
Zayden narrowed his eyes.
He could feel the energy radiating off them; both of them were strong. Seventh-rank Starborns, just like him. Except, they were in their forties, their eyes sharp and experienced.
When Zayden approached, both men stiffened.
"Halt," one of them said, his voice deep and resonant through the helmet's speaker. "State your business. Trespassing on Ironheart grounds is punishable by execution."
Zayden didn't even flinch.
Wordlessly, he reached into his space ring and brought out the silver token Cole had given him.
The soldier looked at it, then at Zayden, then back at the token. After a moment, he nodded and stepped aside.
"You may pass. Welcome to the Ironheart estate."
The gates opened with a heavy groan, revealing what lay beyond.
And what Zayden saw made him stop in his tracks.
The estate was enormous.
If someone told him that it was as large as half a town back on Earth, he would have believed them without hesitation. Wide streets paved with smooth black stone stretched out before him, lined on either side by identical towers.
And when Zayden thought identical, he meant identical.
Each building was a tall, five-meter tower with the same design, same height, same colour, dark grey, with glowing stigmas running vertically along the walls like veins of light.
It was eerie.
"Everything looks… the same," Zayden muttered under his breath.
He turned back to the guards.
"I'm looking for Cole's tower," he said.
The soldier pointed straight down the street. "Walk straight for fifteen towers. Fourth tower to the right on the left side of the road."
Zayden blinked. "...That's oddly specific."
"It's Ironheart," the soldier said simply, as if that explained everything.
With a sigh, Zayden adjusted the strap of his weapon and started walking.
The estate was quiet, but it wasn't lifeless. He could hear the faint hum of stigmas powering the towers, the rhythmic hiss of ventilation systems, and the distant sound of metal striking metal.
After a few minutes of walking, he noticed a building that stood out.
It was the same shape as the others, but it was made of a darker, denser material. The surface looked reinforced, almost blast-proof, as though the building had been designed to survive an explosion.
Curiosity got the better of him.
He stepped through the entrance.
The first thing that hit him was the heat.
It was a dry, scorching heat that made the air shimmer — the kind of heat that could melt bronze — yet to Zayden, it felt no worse than a hot summer day.
The second thing that hit him was the sound.
Clang. Clang. Clang.
The sound of hammers striking metal echoed through the building like a steady heartbeat.
He moved deeper inside, passing one sealed door after another. Each door was reinforced with layers of metal and had stigmas glowing faintly across its surface, likely to keep whatever was inside from escaping… or intruders from entering.
Finally, Zayden came to a door that was slightly ajar.
The sound of hammering was louder here, each strike carrying a weight that almost shook the floor beneath his feet.
Zayden hesitated only a moment before slipping inside.
The room he entered felt like stepping into another world.
The heat here was three times stronger, rolling off the massive furnace that burned with eerie green flames in the corner. The light from the flames bathed the entire room in an otherworldly glow.
And at the centre of it all stood an old man.
His hair was white, his beard long and unkempt, but his body… his body was a work of art. Muscles rippled beneath his sleeveless shirt, his arms like iron as he brought the hammer down again and again on the glowing metal.
Every strike sent a shockwave through the air, making Zayden's hair shift slightly.
The man was forging.
And he was doing it with such focus, such grace, that Zayden felt his breath catch.
There was a rhythm to the hammering, a flow that seemed almost… alive.
Zayden took another step forward, his eyes locked on the man's movements.
Each strike was perfect. Each swing is precise.
The man worked like he had been doing this for a thousand years, as though forging wasn't just his craft, it was his entire life.
Zayden didn't even realise when he stopped breathing, his mind slipping into a strange trance.
He watched as the man finished hammering and placed the piece of metal into the green furnace. Then, with a practised motion, the man reached into his space ring and pulled out what looked like a delicate quilt, embroidered with glowing runes.
At the top was an empty slot, as though waiting for something.
From the space ring, the man pulled out a complete power crystal and set it into the slot.
The runes on the quilt lit up instantly.
Zayden felt the hairs on his arms rise.
The air itself seemed to hum with power as the old man placed the heated metal onto the quilt and began carving stigmas into it with a glowing tool.
Each line he drew shone like molten gold, fusing with the metal, as if branding it with power.
Zayden was entranced.
The sound of hammering, the smell of hot iron, the glow of the stigmas — it all blended into something hypnotic.
And then...
DING!
The sound of the system ping echoed in Zayden's ears.
[You have witnessed a Master Forging Process.]
[Your forging proficiency has reached the Master level.]
[New title acquired: Master Forger.]
Zayden froze, blinking in surprise.
"...What?"
The glowing system panel hovered in front of him, its light reflecting off his widened eyes.
He hadn't even touched anything.
And yet...
He was now a master forger.
"Crack!!"
Zayden had no time to focus on this because of the large amount of killing intent that locked onto him, threatening to suffocate him to death.
****
Deep within the Golden Ember Clan's main hall, a sudden flare of golden light snapped everyone's attention toward the Soul Flame Altar.
The flickering golden fire, one of hundreds that burned eternally atop the altar, suddenly snuffed out with a sharp hiss.
Gasps filled the room.
"No…" A woman's trembling voice broke the silence.
She was tall, elegant, and dressed in flowing robes embroidered with flames. Her face twisted in grief as she rushed forward.
"That was Lethan's flame!"
Whispers erupted among the gathered clan members. The death of a direct heir was no small matter — it was a declaration of war.
"Activate the Golden Crow technique," one of the elders said grimly, his deep voice cutting through the noise. "Find his killer."
At once, a group of attendants knelt and began tracing runes across the floor with shimmering powder. The air heated as the clan's ancestral technique was invoked.
A burning golden crow manifested from the powder, letting out a mournful cry before flying in a circle. Its fiery feathers dropped onto the ground, forming a map-like image.
The elder's sharp eyes narrowed.
"Ironheart estate…"
The hall went silent.
The woman, Lethan's mother, clenched her fists so hard that blood ran down her palms. "I don't care whose estate it is. Whoever dared kill my son will die screaming."
The elder turned to her, his expression grim. "And if the Ironheart clan shelters him? Are you ready to bring war upon us all?"
Her face twisted with fury, but after a long pause, she forced her breathing to steady.
"Then we take this carefully," she said, voice like cold steel. "I will go myself, with you, Elder Varin. If the Ironheart clan does not hand him over…"
The elder nodded.
"Then we will make them."
The golden crow screeched once more, its burning eyes locking on a single glowing point before vanishing.
The hall was quiet again, save for the crackle of flames.
****
[Quest: Feed the Author's Pet, Review Devouring Lycan]
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