Chapter 136: Shadows Over the Iron
Fifteen days passed rapidly. Under Kellar’s relentless supervision and Brak’s daily instruction, construction work and hunting expeditions expanded at a breakneck pace. The new squad of fifty youths had transformed into an exceptionally effective and disciplined machine. There was no longer any trace of the division between former slaves and those born in the tribe; they walked as a single unit, becoming the pride of the village. Wherever they went, they received reverent respect and praise from all the villagers.
Meanwhile, in his quarters, Kellar was finishing packing his belongings to depart. The gunpowder factory in the secondary facilities had performed impeccably, and today, according to reports, the first official batch of new weapons made at the mountain fortress was scheduled to arrive.
However, that achievement brought with it a shadow of suspicion. Kellar stared at the blueprints on his table with a fixed gaze, feeling deeply indecisive. If Krag ever attempted to rebel in the future, the risk would be immense: he had the men, the strategic position, and soon, control over military production.
"If they try anything, there will be no simple way to stop them from here," thought Kellar, clenching his jaw.
He could not take away Krag’s command of the fortress without causing massive discontent, as he had already formally handed it over before the entire tribe. However, he could move the capital, advance into the northern territories, and conquer more land to dilute Krag’s influence. Furthermore, he relied on a crucial factor: first-generation basic firearms would not be enough to kill Ignis or break through his own mystical defenses if he ever had to subdue them himself in the event of a revolt.
Throughout all this time, the system had remained completely silent. The tabs for upgrades and new skills appeared entirely empty in his vision. Kellar reasoned that it was simply a pause for an update following the last major bond reward, so he decided not to dwell on the matter any longer for now.
The chamber door opened, and Grok stepped inside, leaning his battle axe against the wooden frame.
"Great Shaman, everything is ready to receive the shipment," said Grok, noticing his leader’s somber expression. "You look thoughtful. Are you worried about the delivery from the mountain?"
"I am worried about what happens when a man receives too much power and the tools to defend it," said Kellar, looking at his trusted guard. "Krag has loyal warriors, and now he has the weapons forge."
"Krag is a northern warrior, but he is not stupid," said Grok, shaking his head firmly. "He saw what you did to the Blackskull tribe, and he knows what you are capable of. No hunter with any common sense would dare rise up against you. They would be committing suicide."
"Ambition often blinds common sense, Grok," said Kellar, adjusting his fur cloak. "We will keep our eyes open."
Meanwhile, back at the mountain fortress, the tension between the factions was so thick it could be cut with a knife. In the main courtyard, Krag stood with a heavy frown, watching as reinforced wooden crates containing the cargo for the main village were loaded onto carts.
Beside him, Lennis was finishing tying down ropes on a cart laden with tools, molds, and spare parts. The young inventor had not only packed the finished weapons, but was bringing along all the machines he had created for manufacturing the firing mechanisms. At the fortress, he had only left the main blast furnaces to continue producing pure ingots.
Krag stepped forward and confronted the young man with clear annoyance.
"Lennis, this is absurd," said Krag, pointing at the overloaded cart. "Leaving the fortress without the machinery will slow down the work here. I argued that for logistics we should keep the full workshops in the mountain."
"And I was very clear, Commander Krag," said Lennis, looking him dead in the eye without backing down an inch. "The Shaman’s orders were to manufacture the batch and return to the capital with the design secrets. I will not leave blueprints or complex machinery where just anyone could copy them."
Garik, the master blacksmith, walked nearby tightening the crate latches. After talking at length with Lennis over the last two weeks, Garik had become extremely cautious. He had realized that whatever that thing made of steel and fire was, it was so dangerous that it could not fall into anyone else’s hands. For that reason, without telling Krag anything, Garik and Lennis had kept the entire process strictly secret. During forging, they banned Krag from entering the workshop despite his attempts to oversee the floor, threatening him directly with reporting him to the shaman for insubordination if he interfered.
Mark walked up to Krag and stood beside him, crossing his arms as he watched the caravan’s departure. Over the last fifteen days, Mark and Krag had grown increasingly close in their decision-making, discussing tribe movements in private and advancing or pulling back always as a single political block within the settlement.
That tight alliance between the two warrior leaders only reinforced Lennis’s resolve to leave immediately.
"If these two plan to disrespect or betray the Shaman in the future," thought Lennis, climbing onto the cart’s bench alongside Garik and his apprentices, "I am absolutely certain they will be wiped out without mercy. I will not stay here to be part of their ruin."
"We move out!" said Lennis, raising his voice to the escorts as the wooden wheels began to roll over the snow toward the main valley.
Mark watched the caravan head down the snowy path and took a few steps toward Krag, lowering his voice so only the two of them could hear.
"Are you really going to let them go?" said Mark, staring intently at his companion’s back. "This is our only chance. Those weapons do not depend on the bear god’s blessing; they are pure steel and fire. If we took them for ourselves... should we really fear the shaman’s curse?"