Chapter 122: The Foundations of Steel
While the metallic echoes of pickaxes rang out loudly inside the mine, the fortress’s central yard turned into the stage for the tribe’s next massive leap forward. Lennis and Garik led a group of twenty men carrying sacks filled with grey clay hauled from the nearby riverbed, mixing it with fine sand and shredded straw according to Kellar’s exact instructions.
The old craftsman watched as Garik poured water over the mixture inside a large pit in the ground, trampling it with strength alongside his assistants until achieving a dense, workable paste.
"Keep kneading! Don’t leave a single lump!" shouted Lennis, crouching to examine the mud’s texture between his fingers. "This clay alone would crack and explode the moment it felt the fire. But by adding sand and straw, the air will escape slowly as it dries. It will withstand temperatures that would turn ordinary stone to dust!"
"In the Black Skull, we only used wild mud scooped from puddles," said Garik, adjusting his worn leather apron while wiping his face with his forearm. "That’s why the old furnaces collapsed every three or four smelts, and we had to start over from scratch."
"That was because your former shaman had no idea what he was doing," said Lennis, displaying a proud smile. "Listen up, everyone! Start filling the molds!"
Under Lennis’s supervision, the workers began pressing the refractory mixture into the rectangular wooden molds Mentz had built that very morning. One by one, the damp bricks were carefully unmolded and lined up in long rows on wooden boards near the massive bonfires to accelerate their drying before the final firing.
At noon, Kellar approached the work area holding the Level 1 system blueprints, accompanied by Krag, who stared in wonder at the hundreds of clay blocks covering the yard.
"How many bricks do we have ready for construction?" said Kellar, looking at the impressive stack of dried blocks.
"More than four hundred, Great Shaman!" said Lennis, stepping forward briskly with a spark of excitement in his eyes. "Enough to raise the four-meter conical tower you designed in the blueprints."
"Begin assembly immediately," said Kellar, pointing to the stone foundation on the north side of the workshop. "Garik, use the same clay and ash mixture as mortar between every row. I don’t want a single crack where heat or gas can escape."
"Understood, Shaman!" said Garik, turning toward the masons with a booming voice. "You heard him! Clear the way for the mortar and start with the first layer!"
Throughout the afternoon, the structure began rising in the center of the fortress. Row by row, the refractory brick tower took on its characteristic conical chimney shape. At the base, Lennis installed two tubular iron openings for the air tuyeres, connected to a pair of reinforced leather double bellows operated by a large wooden lever. At the bottom, a discharge trough was left temporarily plugged with soft clay, where the liquid metal would eventually flow out.
By nightfall, the Forced-Draft Blast Furnace stood imposing in the yard, reaching over four meters in height and dominating the fortress’s silhouette.
Krag walked around the massive structure and ran his hand over the damp clay wall, still warm from the internal drying embers, letting out an awed whistle.
"It looks like a true war tower, Shaman," said Krag, looking at Kellar with a broad, pride-filled smile.
"It is much better than a war tower, Krag," said Kellar, observing the imposing industrial chimney beneath the bright torchlight. "It is the cradle of the Overlord Tribe’s steel. Tomorrow, we load the coal, the iron, and light the very first fire of our history.".
As full night fell, the tense atmosphere of the morning was replaced by the warm smoke of the bonfires. Everyone ate large bowls of hot meat. Mark’s people had brought out provisions they had been hiding, knowing that if they wanted to show results and earn a true place in the tribe’s structure, they had to provide everything they had.
Kellar was leaning back against a large stone near the fire, enjoying his portion, when Krag approached him with slow steps and a lowered gaze.
"About what happened earlier, Shaman..." said Krag, stopping beside him with regret.
"It’s alright, Krag," said Kellar, offering him a calm gesture. "Everything was resolved."
"No, my Great Shaman, it wasn’t resolved," said Krag, shaking his head and staring at the embers. "You resolved it. Had it been up to me, this would have ended in riot and death. I would have reverted to the old regime, like the Black Skull Tribe or the former shaman, losing the true essence of the Overlord Tribe. I have failed you; I do not deserve my position as leader of this place."
"Easy," said Kellar, looking him squarely in the eyes. "The good thing is that you learned. To err is human, but to rectify and push forward is the mark of true leaders, and you are the leader I chose. Prove to me that I wasn’t wrong about you."
Krag pressed his fist to his chest moved by his lord’s trust.
"I will try with my very life, Shaman," said Krag with a firm voice.
"That is good to hear," said Kellar, smiling faintly as he took a bite of his meat. "Go get some sleep and spend time with your wife. Tomorrow we start very early. As soon as I finish helping you settle everything, I will leave and place everyone in your hands. I have left explosive charges in the storehouses for security."
Krag listened attentively as the young leader mapped out the region’s future.
"My intention is to recruit more people across the valleys and bring them under our banner," said Kellar, watching the sparks rise into the night sky. "That is why I had the youths remain at the main village; I will train them in the use of firearms. The next time I come, I will bring a full army. I will sweep the Red Forest, the Lizard Lake, and build a road connecting us directly to save time."
Krag nodded, awed by the magnitude of the shaman’s vision.
"We will send supplies in a coordinated manner," said Kellar, gesturing down the path to the south. "Every seven moons, send a messenger with a list of what you need, and I will send reinforcements, food, or materials. Remember that you are part of the tribe and you are not alone, Krag. Do not fall into a bottomless abyss out of sheer pride."
"I shall do so, Great Shaman," said Krag, bowing his head with deep gratitude. "The mountain fortress will never doubt again."