Chương 125: Chapter 124: A Meeting with the Dwarven Guild and the Patent Rights

With Station 50's twelve-hour maintenance deferment still running, Floor 52 opened into a vast, cavernous enclosed expanse known as the Ice-and-Fire Foundry City. The air reeked of molten metal and burning coal. Hundreds of blackened bronze smokestacks, dozens of meters tall, spat orange and blue magical flame up into the cavern's stone ceiling in an endless rhythm. CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! The hammering of ten thousand dwarven blacksmiths rang out in a deafening mechanical beat.

Rivers of molten Adamantine and Mithril glowed white-hot along both sides of the walkway, pouring into massive casting molds. The dwarven soldiers in steam armor led Lucian's group into the city's largest central forge. At the center of the workshop, an old dwarf with shoulders twice the width of a normal man's, his copper-red beard braided into three floor-length plaits, was hammering a block of black steel with a flaming warhammer. Ting! A translucent panel from the Unified System V2.

0 appeared: [TARGET: Grandmaster Thorbjorn Ironhammer] Title: Governor, Eisenwald Alchemist Guild (Floor 52) Level: 95 | Rank: A — Legendary Combat Power: 8, 500, 000, 000 (8. 5 BILLION!) Thorbjorn slammed the warhammer down onto the stone anvil with a bone-rattling CLANG, wiped the sweat from his brow, and glared at Lucian with narrowed eyes.

"Vance brat! You dare mess with the mana flow out of the Floor 50 reactor and tank the pressure on my Guild's forges?!" He jerked his chin toward a brass machine the size of a three-story building, belching smoke in the corner of the workshop.

"You seen my 'Peak Magitech Steam Engine'? Fifty tons, burns ten tons of coal an hour, and hits a whole twelve percent conversion efficiency! Dwarves hold every mechanical patent in this world — you lot don't get a seat at the table when it comes to machinery!" Lucian crossed his arms and said nothing. He just tilted his head slightly, signaling to Evelyn.

Evelyn, still in her oil-stained coveralls, pulled a large rolled-up technical blueprint from the leather tube on her back and slapped it — THWACK — onto the stone anvil in front of Thorbjorn. Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. The design showed a compact multi-stage internal combustion engine, built on volumetric compression and direct mana injection into the combustion chamber, using a rotary titanium-alloy piston.

Evelyn planted both hands on the anvil and spoke evenly.

"Size of a teakettle. Thirty pounds. Runs a full week on a single piece of Tartarus black mana-stone. Thermodynamic efficiency: eighty-five percent." Thorbjorn dug a single-lens magical loupe out of his pocket and pressed it to his eye. His scarred, calloused hand began to shake violently. His copper-red beard curled tighter with the tremor. He stared at the piston cross-section and the pressure valve system, eyes bulging like a pair of eggs, and let out a voice that cracked halfway through.

"This — WHAT is this dark forbidden art?! Why does a chamber the size of a kettle put out ten times the power of my fifty-ton machine?!" Lucian stepped forward and calmly drew a licensing contract out of his leather case. This is a patented, proprietary engine design from Vance Commerce. Does your Guild want production rights? We'll cut your royalty rate by twenty percent.

In exchange, your Guild machines the first contracted quota of train parts and magitech casings; labor charges are credited against the discount, and materials remain on Vance Commerce's account. THUD! Thorbjorn threw the loupe to the ground, dropped to one knee in the coal ash, and bowed so hard his beard nearly swept the floor.

"Let this humble Guild learn from that blueprint, Engineer Wright!" Evelyn's eye twitched. She yanked her leg back fast.

"Get off me, old man! You're getting soot all over my pants!" Ting! Ting! The Unified System V2. 0 panel appeared: [WORLD TOWER INDUSTRIAL ALLIANCE CONTRACT SIGNED SUCCESSFULLY!] Partners: Vance Commerce × Eisenwald Alchemist Guild (Floor 52) Mechanical fabrication and weapons manufacturing capacity: UP 600%! [GRANDMASTER ATTITUDE-SHIFT SPEED ASSESSMENT:] Reached lightspeed the instant he saw the piston blueprint.

Thorbjorn signed the licensing and pilot-manufacturing contract, assigning the specified production lines and capacity for its stated term. He wiped his eyes and waved at the assembled smiths.

"Bring out the thousand-year spirits! Three days and three nights of celebration, in honor of the reborn Divine Smith Duo!" He turned back to Lucian, lowering his voice.

"But listen, young Vance — if you two mean to push up to Floor 60 and open the rest of the tower, you'll need to watch yourselves. Floor Sixty's sealed off by the Apex Judgment Sentinel — the strongest automated war machine the gods left behind from the ancient era." Lucian folded the contract and tucked it into his spatial ring, nodding.

"Noted. Leave that machine to us." He turned and walked out onto the stone balcony overlooking the foundry city, ablaze with firelight. Eleanor stood beside him, leaning against the stone railing, her golden hair catching the warm orange glow, the corner of her mouth curved in a bright smile. Lucian glanced at her, straightened the snow-rose pin on his chest, and spoke unhurried.

"Heavy-industry contract's signed. Tonight, how about dinner up at Floor 55's stargazing deck, Madam Guild Chair?" The elevator indicator flickered and stopped at Floor 55. Eleanor tilted her head, blue eyes glinting in the forge-light.

"Sure. Just make sure you bring the most expensive menu, President Vance."