The massive gate groaned open, and furnace heat surged out, sharp with the stench of ozone and sulphuric gas. Thomas covered his face with his hands. As his skin little by little adapted to the heat, he looked slowly around the chamber.
Ten giant furnaces were heated, ready to melt the ores. Several muscular men and even a few women stood in front of the furnaces. They were tanned and sweating in the intense heat.
Denim, as the leader, stood in the middle. He knelt before Thomas, and after him, the others followed.
"GREETINGS, YOUR MAJESTY!"
Thomas nodded and took a glance at all of them. They were all Denim's trusted and professional friends or disciples. After work, they would all return to their places. Then he walked toward the innermost part of the chamber.
Denim followed behind him.
After a short distance, they stopped at an iron gate that led to the underground chamber. Denim stepped forward and opened the gate.
Thomas entered and ordered, "Until I call for you, you must not enter."
Denim bowed and closed the gate.
Thomas followed the stairs, which led him to a vast underground chamber large enough to hold a two-story noble mansion.
Thomas took a deep breath and looked at the golden ring. Today, I am going to make my last wish. After that, whatever happens to me, I don't know.
Maybe I'll be saved. Maybe I'll die. Maybe something even worse. But I am prepared.
Thomas clenched his fist and said, "Lord Dire, my last wish: fill this chamber with bricks of gold and iron alloy." His voice reverberated in the chamber.
Suddenly, the ring became hot and radiated an intense golden light. Light exploded behind his eyelids. He shut his eyes and staggered back, vision dissolving into a red blur. "Ah! My eyes! Burning!"
As his temporary visual impairment subsided, he looked at the chamber. But the chamber was not as it had been before. It was now filled with bricks of gold alloy, with a blackish lustre on them, stacked all the way to the top.
His eyes and mouth opened wide. "HOLY GRAIL!"
He walked toward them. He stared at his own reflection on their lustrous surface. His trembling hand touched the surface.
"Cold. Hard. Shining." "Hahahahaha!!!"
His breath broke into laughter before he could stop it.
"Are you crazed just by seeing this much?"
A chill crawled up his spine, and his forearms tightened, his hair lifting despite the warm air.
He slowly turned around and saw Dire floating in the empty air, calmly enjoying a cup of tea. Then he looked at his finger. The golden ring was still there, but it now had a small fracture.
He blinked twice, disbelief furrowing his brow as he muttered, "No… that can't be right." His hands reached toward his sword, and he tightened his grip around the hilt.
"Shouldn't you be freed after my two wishes?"
Dire took a few sips of his tea, watching him as he grew desperate for an answer.
Thomas's gaze lingered on him, and his grip tightened around the sword. Was the ring still protecting him? He couldn't tell. The certainty he'd carried before was gone, leaving his skin tight and his instincts exposed, as if a shield had been removed without warning.
Once the tea was gone, the cup disappeared from his hand. Then he looked at Thomas and said, "Hmm… it seems I forgot to mention something."
"What?"
"A wish is just one of the conditions."
"Then what are the other conditions?"
Dire pinched his chin and gazed upward as if thinking. Then he looked toward Thomas with an eerie smile. "I don't know," Dire said lightly. "And that should worry you."
Thomas stared at him and thought, He knows something but is deliberately not telling. Something very important. He frowned. There's no use wasting time on the past. He met Dire's gaze and asked, "Is the ring still protecting me?"
Suddenly, Dire appeared behind him, his nails turning into sharp claws and extending toward Thomas's eyes. Then, he whispered in his ear, "Why don't you test it?"
Thomas gulped and stared at the pointed claws. He murmured, "I am not a fool."
Dire burst into a black cloud and was sucked back into the golden ring, but his eerie laughter echoed. "Hehehe…"
Thomas's legs gave out, and he collapsed on the ground, breathing roughly. He glanced at the iron-gold alloy. One step is over. The next step is to build economy and power.
He forced himself up and moved on unsteady legs. He followed the stairs back to the iron gate and knocked a few times. "Denim, open the gate."
Creak!
The gate groaned open, and the furnace heat rushed out again—but this time he barely reacted. Pain required strength, and he had none left to spare. He dragged his exhausted body forward.
"Are you alright?" Denim stepped half a pace closer, not touching him but ready to assist.
"Nothing, just exhausted." He sank into the chair and did not rise again. He ordered, "Denim, the alloys are in the chamber. No questions asked. Just do as planned."
"As you wish, my Lord." Denim bowed and left.
Thomas closed his eyes and thought, In only a few weeks, I have taken very big and crucial steps toward my goal. The most important of them is to secure the most loyal subordinates.
He pulled out a scroll and began writing.
First came the names of merchants—those who lacked protection and those who traded in information. He needed both. Some would receive royal backing. Others would repay him with secrets.
Next, he wrote another order:
A new knight unit. Answerable only to me.
Men who would follow his command without hesitation. Men who could kill when ordered—and die if required.
He rolled the scroll and set it aside.
Thomas turned toward the furnaces. Molten metal flowed steadily, gold mixed with iron, glowing beneath the heat.
With gold, the kingdom's empty treasury could recover. Food could be imported. Mercenaries could be hired. The plague's damage could be contained.
With iron, weapons could be forged. Armor reforged. The army restored.
He nodded to himself.
Power and information were already in his hands.
This alloy would secure the economy.
Only the final stage remained.
"Sigh!—Now, the time has come to repay the debt."