The heat intensified even further as Kyrian advanced deeper into the workshop.
The heavy iron door closed behind them with a deep, resonant sound, metal grinding against metal in a profound echo that reverberated through the stone walls.
The outside world was instantly cut off. The sounds of the street, the voices of customers, and the constant bustle of the Sky Caravan vanished as though they had never existed.
Only the steady crackling of the flames remained, the occasional sound of metal being heated, and a faint spiritual hum coming from the various furnaces scattered throughout the workshop. It was a continuous, almost hypnotic sound, like the breathing of a living creature.
Kyrian walked slowly, his violet eyes sweeping across every corner of the place.
