A Million Strikes, Stone Turns to Flame
The Land of the Forge was made up of countless volcanoes, and every Dwarf was an exceptional blacksmith.
Unlike human territories, however, not every Dwarf here owned a forge of their own.
Outstanding Dwarves possessed a full set of forging tools and an environment marked with their personal seal. Powerful Dwarven craftsmen could even claim an entire volcano for themselves, making it their own place of forging.
Ordinary Dwarven blacksmiths had only the smithing platforms inside the volcanoes, and a single hammer that truly belonged to them.
Every Dwarf possessed an unlimited future in forging, and every powerful Dwarven blacksmith had once been an ordinary hammer-swinging Dwarf who stood at a smithing platform, striking again and again.
The smithing platform standing in the lava lake was not something ordinary Dwarves could approach. The air and scorching environment here were not something every Dwarf could withstand.
At that moment, they stood in the distance atop lava that had cooled and hardened like earth for who knew how many years, watching Brock, who had landed at the center of the lava lake.
The Saint Realm human blacksmith, Brock, gradually adapted to the volcano's temperature after his initial discomfort. He took a deep breath, and under the curious yet wary gazes of pairs of Dwarven eyes, he swung his hammer.
Bang!
Sparks flew in every direction.
Every extraordinary blacksmith possessed a forging art unique to themselves. Even if teacher and student learned from the same lineage, what they ultimately displayed would be two different forging techniques, at most merely similar.
No road to legend could accommodate two people at the same time. In the Dwarves' understanding, this was even more true for blacksmiths. A legendary master blacksmith had to be unique and impossible to replicate.
Just