"Ding!"
The metal Forging Hammer, reflecting the firelight, came whistling down and slammed onto the anvil.
Sparks flew.
The red-hot iron billet, smoke rising from it under the scorching heat, compressed and deformed beneath the violent impacts. Its once-loose internal structure gradually grew solid and tough amid the Forging Hammer's repeated, steady, powerful blows.
"Stop!"
A voice thick with dissatisfaction suddenly rang through the room.
Barn, the "Dwarf" whose muscles were knotted and whose burly, robust build looked two whole sizes stronger than an ordinary Bear Goblin's, was standing to one side.
His arms were folded across his chest. Blue veins bulged beneath his skin, and the naturally swollen muscles of his arms and chest pressed firmly together. Just looking at him was enough to feel the power contained within.
His brows were tightly furrowed, and on his face was a stern expression that most Adventurers who had ever visited "Rock Hammer" had never seen before.
"Wrong again!"
"How many times have I told you? Pay attention to the rhythm! Feel the pulse between the steel!"
"Your breathing must not fall apart!"
In front of him stood a young man whose features resembled his somewhat, though his face was clearly softer and more youthful.
He lowered the Forging Hammer in his hand and dipped his head slightly, not making a sound in the face of his father's instruction.
"In our line of work, you have to put your heart into it. Your heart, and then your heart again!"
"You must control the quality and make everything perfect."
Barn's tone carried the frustration of iron failing to become steel. He gripped a pair of tongs and submerged the still molten-red iron billet on the anvil into water.
It cooled rapidly.
Then he tossed it onto the scrap pile to the side.