CHAPTER 80: AN IRON MINE

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, far longer than any previous fusion, the searing blue flames subsided.

In their wake stood Kaelor, transformed. His wings, once dark as shadow, had grown broader and more formidable, their membrane glistening faintly under the cavern’s dim light. They seemed forged not of mere flesh, but of night itself, dense, unyielding, and powerful. With wings of such size, he knew instinctively that heights previously unimaginable were now within his grasp.

His stature had changed as well, rising from 185 centimeters to a commanding 189. His skin was now pale as moonlight, his physique sharpened to perfection, like a weapon hammered and tempered in the hottest forge. He lowered his gaze to his hands, flexing long, razor-sharp claws that jutted from his fingers like marble talons, predatory, beautiful, and undeniably lethal.

Externally, the difference was subtle, a leaner, more defined musculature, but inside, he could feel the monumental shift. His bones had become several times denser, their strength near unbreakable, bolstering his endurance and agility beyond mortal limits. His muscles thrummed with coiled power, ready to unspool destruction at the faintest command.

Though his eyes retained their human brown, they now carried an unmistakable predator’s gleam, a primal intensity that made even seasoned warriors avert their gaze within seconds.

Testing the change, Kaelor willed his mana to stir. His muscles swelled with raw force; in his mind’s eye, he could almost see the gleam of diamond within his own bones, each one a pillar of power capable of shattering steel.

But the gift came with a curse. A sudden, aching thirst tore through him, deep, gnawing, and impossible to ignore. He clenched his jaw, but instinct demanded blood. With grim resolve, he knelt by the fallen white bat and drank, quenching the unbearable hunger. The taste was sharp, coppery, and laced with the strange potency of the beast’s essence.

When at last he withdrew, he ran his fingers across his mouth, and felt them brush against more fangs than before. Four now, instead of two. His expression darkened into contemplation. He had never fancied the idea of drinking blood like some feral beast, yet if this was the price for power... so be it.

Pulling Keranous free from the ground, Kaelor turned and approached Hound. The massive wolf-man lay on the stone, breathing heavily, his body a mess of blood and fur. Over a dozen quills, each the length of an arrow, jutted from his flesh.

Yet even in agony, Hound’s eyes burned with the stubborn fire of a warrior unwilling to yield.

Kaelor knelt beside him, his own face set in quiet determination.

"Take him to the town," he ordered. "If we try to remove these quills here, he’ll bleed out before we’re done."

Two Guardsmen moved quickly, lifting Hound with the care one might show a comrade carved from glass.

From the corner of his vision, Kaelor noticed Jon approaching. The Guardsman was drenched in blood, his armor torn apart, his shield shattered to useless splinters. Yet his posture remained steady as he bowed.

"My Lord," Jon said, voice rough from battle, "I found something... when a few of us went after the bats."

Kaelor’s brow arched slightly, curiosity sharpening his gaze as he turned to face him.

....

Kaelor stood before a narrow opening sealed with heavy stones, watching as the Guardsmen, those with only light injuries, worked methodically to dismantle the barricade.

Each rock clattered against the ground, the sharp echoes bouncing off the surrounding walls. A few weathered wooden beams jutted from the edges of the seal, their placement deliberate. Kaelor’s eyes narrowed. Those beams suggested something he hardly dared to believe.

When the last stone was pried loose and tumbled away, the truth revealed itself. Rails, old, rusted, and half-buried beneath dust, snaked into the darkness beyond. Abandoned carts sat motionless on the tracks, some with their sides split and warped from age.

In their beds lay forgotten piles of rubble, the dull gleam of ore still faintly visible beneath layers of grime. Scattered along the ground were rusty mining tools, pickaxes, shovels, and hammers, frozen in time, as if their owners had dropped them mid-swing and never returned.

It hit him like a hammer to the chest.

A mine.

Not just any mine, an iron mine.

Kaelor stepped inside, the air cool and tinged with the scent of old earth and rust. He trailed a finger along the wall, the stone leaving a reddish smear across his skin. The telltale tint of iron ore. It was clear that mining had been extensive here once.

’Was the rice field just a façade?’ Kaelor’s eyes narrowed further, his mind racing. Whoever had built the town had not done so for farming alone, it was an outpost, a hub to extract and transport the wealth hidden in the wilderness.

His voice dropped to a murmur. "So an iron mine was here all this time..." His gaze shifted to the yawning dark deeper within. "They must have fled because of the bats... or something worse."

He emerged again from the mouth of the mine, studying the sturdy wooden beams that lined its entrance and corridors. The supports stretched from floor to ceiling, their craftsmanship precise, the joinery still holding despite decades of neglect. Even after so long, they stood strong, a silent testament to the builders’ skill.

Kaelor’s eyes followed the rails into the shadows, then he turned to the cavernous depths where the surviving bats had fled. The darkness beyond seemed to breathe. He knew with a certainty that made his jaw clench, if he wanted this mine, his current forces were nowhere near enough.

Yet the thought of what it offered ignited something fierce within him. With this mine, his men could finally be outfitted with proper plate armor, even if it was only iron-ranked. Farmers could be given stronger tools, miners equipped to dig deeper and faster. With this mine, he could fuel the birth of a true city, a capital that would rise here in the Devil Wilderness, from which he could extend his reach outward like roots breaking stone.

"Let’s return," Kaelor ordered, his tone calm but edged with resolve. "Cover the mine."

As the Guardsmen began to replace the stones, he rested his hand on Keranous’ hilt, his fingers tightening unconsciously around the leather grip. His gaze lingered one last time on the black mouth of the mine, as if he could already see the forges blazing and the city walls rising. Then, without another word, he turned and walked away.