Chapter 197: A Dangerous Being
"Ye understand the difference now, lad?" Andre asked.
Kael stood near the anvil with sweat cooling along his spine, fingers still faintly buzzing from the last few hours of real hammer-work. The forge had finally stopped feeling like a stranger’s tomb and started feeling like a place that could actually be used, coal stacked, ash cleared, tools laid out with some semblance of order. His lungs still carried the taste of smoke, and his wrists ached in a way Brokk’s hammer had never given him. This ache was honest.
"Yes, I was going about it the wrong way," Kael said.
The dwarf nodded, Aye... that’s enough. Off with ye." he said.
Kael blinked, waiting for the but. The "next step." The lecture about tempering, quenching, grain alignment, any of the thousand details Andre clearly had locked behind those grumpy eyes. But Andre didn’t offer anything else. He just stood there like a door shutting.
"Wait, that’s it?" Kael asked.
Andre’s face tightened in that permanently unimpressed way, like this was the exact kind of question he’d been expecting from a climber. "What more d’ye want from me? Ye’ve got the basics, ye know how to shape iron, and ye’ve got a decent head on yer shoulders. Use it. Figure the rest o’ the craft yerself. I ain’t lookin’ to take on a disciple."
Kael’s jaw worked for a second. He wanted to argue, wanted to say I’m not asking for charity, I’m asking for survival. But he knew what Andre would answer. The dwarf didn’t owe him anything, and he didn’t like owing anyone either.
Kael started to turn away, hand drifting toward his gear where it rested under the lantern’s dim glow. After all, Andre didn’t need a disciple.
"But I am," the words echoed inside the forge, loud, deep, almost inhuman.
The sound didn’t just enter the room. It occupied it. It filled the corners Kael had just cleaned, sank into the soot-stained beams, and sat heavy in his chest like an invisible hand.
Kael didn’t even sense it, no, he didn’t realize that there were more than just the two of them here. The first thing he did was glance at his map to notice three green dots in the room, his included.
His stomach tightened. The map didn’t lie, not about people standing inside your space.
He turned, slowly, to see a giant of a man standing there, watching over them.
The figure had been close enough that Kael should’ve heard steps. Should’ve heard a door. Should’ve heard something. But there’d been nothing at all, just that voice, and then the fact of him being there like the forge had grown a new wall.
"Tsk... didn’t I tell ye t’ knock? How in the nine hells d’ye get in with the door shut?" Andre didn’t sound scared.
He sounded irritated, like this was a recurring problem, like the mountain of a man was a stray dog that kept wandering into his kitchen.
"I have my ways, who’s the kid? New blood?" the man said.
Kael could only gulp as he saw his ’structure’ this guy was massive. Massive was an understatement even.
He was quite taller than Kael that is for sure, but his build... this was the build every body builder would dream night and day about. Muscles the size of Kael’s entire arm. Thighs that felt like they could carry the world and run with it. His muscles were bulging underneath what looked like a martial artist’s drabs. A black hanging belt, and a beard... no, more like a mane coupled with his long red hair. Thick brows and an unmistakable presence.
That presence wasn’t "intimidating" in the normal sense. It was the kind that made the air feel thicker, like the room had less oxygen and more gravity. Even standing still, the man looked like he could punch through stone and complain the stone was too soft.
"Who’s this guy?" Kael asked.
"Don’t go gettin’ mixed up with that one, lad. Nothin’ but trouble, he is." Andre said.
Kael didn’t miss the way Andre’s eyes flicked briefly, just once, toward the man’s hands. Not fear. Caution. Like you’d look at a blade you knew was sharp enough to cut you without trying.
"Why are you being so mean, Andre," the man said as he pulled out a bottle of wine that looked like a joke in his massive hands.
The bottle was normal-sized. In his grip it looked like something you’d give a child, like a prop.
"Don’t think ye can bribe me for company, old fool."
"This is Dragon Breath."
"Where in the blazes d’ye even get that?" Andre said, his mouth salivating.
Kael watched Andre’s whole attitude shift by half a degree, like the dwarf’s pride had tried to hold, failed, and got dragged into reality by the smell of that drink. The "retired, leave me alone" persona cracked just enough for hunger to show through.
"I have my ways, so tell me, who’s the kid?"
Andre made a sound that was almost a groan, almost a sigh, like he’d been cornered into doing introductions. "Fist King, meet... eh, lad, don’t think I caught yer name."
Kael hesitated, but seeing that neither two was hostile, "Kael, name’s Kael."
The giant’s stare sharpened, not aggressive, just precise, like he was weighing Kael the way a smith weighed metal. His eyes moved in small, annoying increments: boots, stance, gauntlets, helmet, shoulders, breath.
"Ah, an earthling," he clicked his mouth. "But, how come you have that," he pointed at Kael’s chest. "That’s not something you should have, especially if you’re from earth."
Kael followed the finger, it was pointing at his heart, "A heart? You don’t have one?" Kael tilted his head.
The words left his mouth before he could stop them. Instinct. A bad habit. He’d survived too long by spitting jokes into the face of stress, like if he laughed first the world would hesitate to kill him.
The giant didn’t laugh.
"No, Internal Energy, how do you have that? No, that’s not the real question..."
The man’s entire body turned bright red, his already massive muscles bulged even more, a pressure that made Kael immediately fall flat onto his face. As if the weight of an entire mountain was pressing against him.