Ferra cleared the junior apprentices from the casting chamber while the last coals burned inside the industrial ravine's blast furnace.
Inside the reinforced casting chamber, five individuals remained after Ferra ordered the junior apprentices and exhausted laborers back to their quarters.
Marrick waited behind the blast screen beside Tobias, his parchment ready to record whatever survived the dangerous pour.
"Anyone who never survived a catastrophic crucible rupture clears the floor right now!" the divine forge spirit announced with flat finality.
Hajin stood beside the primary casting basin, his celestial warding aura humming at low frequency as he formed an invisible containment perimeter.
"My warding field will contain the flying shrapnel if the crystal matrix rejects the bronze bath," he assured her, keeping his posture relaxed.
"Containment will not save your fingers if you touch the slag before the mana dissipates," she warned, tightening her apron straps.
