The Salamanders Legion's flagship, the Gloriana-class Battleship Fireforged.
Deep within the ship, the enormous furnace roared.
The furnace occupied three entire decks, built from thick ceramic alloy and refractory bricks, with flames burning inside hot enough to melt any metal.
The furnace's flames were not the usual orange or red, but a white-hot radiance as fierce as the core of a star, churning and leaping within the firebox, bathing the entire chamber in scorching, hellish light.
The air was thick with the searing tang of metal and the smell of sulfur. Every breath drew scalding air into the lungs, drenching the skin in sweat in an instant.
Vulkan stood before the furnace, bare-chested beneath a blacksmith's apron riddled with countless holes burned through by sparks and iron filings.
His already dark body grew blacker amid the howling flames and dust, like a statue carved from obsidian, gleaming dully in the firelight.
Sweat streamed over his scarred, muscular body, glistening in the firelight as though he had been coated in oil.
His muscles bulged with every swing of the hammer, veins standing out beneath his skin like winding rivers tracing paths of strength across his body.
He held an enormous hammer, its head forged from a single block of steel, its surface covered in the marks of countless blows.
He raised the hammer high, and then...
Bang!!!
With a deafening crash, the hammer slammed into the iron blade taking shape on the anvil.
Sparks sprayed from the point of impact, dancing through the air like golden rain, tracing countless bright streaks through the dim furnace chamber before landing on the floor with a hiss and cooling swiftly into dark red specks.
Bang—!!!
Another blow.
Vulkan's arm rose high again and came crashing down once more, its rhythm as steady and powerful