Chapter 59: A good night’s rest!
Sweat poured from Irwin's head as he continued striking the metal. His shoulders and arms were cramped, the muscles building while his back was burning. As hard as it was, at the same time, he felt better than he had in his entire, short life. The pile of purified metal beside the anvil was rapidly growing, and at some point, he realized he was forcing himself on.
He wanted to get through the pile of raw ore!
As the raw ore dwindled and the purified metal grew, he couldn't stop himself from smiling. To him, only months had passed since he left Malorin, but he had changed so massively.
Three lumps of ore.
Two.
Then he grabbed the final one and, with a grin of victory, struck it flat and pure. As he tossed it on the pile, a soft clapping came from behind him.
"Very good," Trimdir said, crossing his arms while staring at him.
He was alone, with no guards along, and Irwin felt the tiny bit of worry that had built deep inside vanish. Then he blinked and looked around in surprise. There were no others left, and from the dullness of the other forges, he knew it must be late. Perhaps evening?
"I got a bit carried away," he muttered, putting his hammer on the anvil.
Rubbing his hands, he grimaced at the soreness in his palms. No blisters, though. Coperion Body probably took care of those.
A dull rumbling came from his stomach, and he blinked stupidly. He hadn't eaten since he got here! He vaguely remembered Lamia bringing him water a few times, which was probably why his lips weren't chipped.
"Don't worry, "Trimdir said. "I brought enough food, even for you."