The elf technician's smile froze on his face, then turned to horror and anger.
"You... have you lost your mind?!"
He shrieked, his voice laden with anguish, his trembling finger pointing at the fragments strewn across the table.
"Do you know what you're doing? Do you know how much this is worth? It was carved from premium ironwood by the finest craftsmen, and it took them an entire month! You barbarian, you just destroyed it!"
"My deepest apologies, master. I know this was an expensive work of art."
Anton wore a mildly apologetic smile as he gently returned the wrench to his belt, his tone courteous.
"But please understand. When Stuka performs a rolling maneuver in the sky, the airflow won't be as polite as we are now."
He lightly pointed at the fractured fretwork, his voice impeccably civil. "These patterns can indeed channel mana, but eight thousand meters up, against a sonic boom's shock wave, these openings become fatal structural flaws. Even a sparrow striking it could tear the entire plate apart along these holes."
The head carpenter watched with delight and could not resist cutting in. "Hear that? Hear that? Our human craftsmen know their stuff! I told you we needed rivets! Nail it down tight!"
"Rivets won't work either."
Anton turned and doused his enthusiasm.
"Master Rockheart is right. Ironwood fibers are continuous. One swing of your hammer would strip away at least a good chunk of the plate's magic resistance. What would be the point of using ironwood then?"
The head carpenter's laughter caught in his throat, leaving him looking constipated. "This won't work, that won't work. What are we supposed to do, glue it together? Ordinary glue turns brittle from the cold once it's airborne!"
Anton stared at the broken ironwood, his brow furrowed as