Hiss! The Forgotten Forge
Hiss-! Hiss-!! Hiiiiss--!!
Ever since entering Sandorim Forest, a noise like the chugging engine of a steam locomotive had been echoing nonstop.
“……”
In the dark night, the rumble of that steam engine felt eerily out of place, almost sinister.
Whoosh-!!
Black Eye appeared amid a burst of blue flames. Whether it was the effect of his level-up or not, after reaching level 20, he seemed able to form an even more perfect human shape. Rather than wild, flickering flames, the fire now smoldered smoothly within a human silhouette.
It's as bleak as ever, even after all this time. Worse than the chill of the Northern Plateau.
Sandorim Forest—despite the name—was no forest at all. It was a small scrap-metal city beside the Narita Basin in the continent's heart. Now reduced to ruins, it had lost all function as a village and stood more like an ancient relic.
No one knew why it was called a forest, but the name's origins hinted at its past.
Sandol was the name of the dwarf who once lived here.
It could be dismissed as mere nomenclature, but in ancient times—known as the Age of Antiquity—Sandorim Forest referred to the forest ruled by King Sandol. The use of "forest" instead of "kingdom" felt like wordplay meant to conceal its true significance.
For dwarves, who held the concept of a kingdom more sacredly than any other race, calling their homeland a "forest" carried profound weight.
Legends speak of several dwarf kingdoms in antiquity, but they've all fallen, their people scattered. Living dwarves are rare sights now, spotted occasionally in great cities or hidden enclaves.
Thud- thud- thud-
As I trudged through the mechanical forest, I recalled the ancient tomes from the palace archives.
Once the most prosperous of all dwarf kingdoms, Sandorim Forest is now a desolate ruin haunted by twisted iron skeletons. Like other ancient dwarf realms, they mastered smithing and evolved it into a civilization called science. They bloomed with the continent's finest technological splendor, but their history's brightest era birthed four Arcanists—geniuses beyond the word's grasp. The mechanical engineering they pioneered dared challenge the realm of the gods.
“But even that grand civilization meant nothing before the gods. The golem they spent lifetimes perfecting—hailed as their masterpiece—shattered helplessly under the touch of calamity. For daring the divine domain, they perished…… That's all the ancient tome said.”
I murmured the passage's end, tracing it from memory.
In the end, Sandorim Forest was just the wreckage of a forgotten kingdom.
Afterward, humans gathered in the dwarves' old lands to form the Kal Duchy, ironically adopting the survivors and forging a new discipline: magitech.
Magitech: infusing weapons with attribute mana via attribute stones. The duchy had masqueraded the dwarves' craft as its own from the start.
Whose achievement it truly was mattered little; the power that birthed the Kal Duchy was undeniable. Beyond mere swords and bows, they wielded magitech firearms—Dimension World's most modern arsenal. Though their numbers were few, their military might rivaled the Eltia Iron Kingdom's.
But right now, it's not the duchy's forces that matter. It's that one soul who can't forget this fallen kingdom—and still dwells here.
I pressed deeper into the maze-like forest paths, familiar from memory.
It should be around here somewhere……
How much time had passed? The massive steel tunnel—devoid of even sunlight—made it hard to tell, but the sharpening hiss-!! of steam told me I'd found the right spot.
Clang-! Claaang-! Clang! Clang!
Hammer strikes echoed from somewhere. Only then did a faint smile cross my lips.
“Looks like I found the place.”
A lone house at the tunnel's end. Unlike the rest, its hearth—linked to a chimney under the roof—blazed fiercely.
To think someone lives in a dump like this. No ordinary soul.
“You might even know him. My first time here, his foul temper gave me a real headache…… But if that's the case, maybe we can talk more easily today.”
Hmm? Someone I know?
Black Eye tilted his head, clearly puzzled by my words.
Thud- thud- thud-
As I advanced, the ground was littered with ancient, discarded weapons—swords, spears, crossbows, bows. But oddly, they resembled engineered contraptions more than forged arms. A broken sword hilt bore mysterious devices; a shattered crossbow had what looked like a scope attached.
Crunch-
I picked up a glass shard underfoot.
“……”
A fragment from the crossbow's scope, gleaming iridescently like stained glass. Strangely, intricate runes were engraved not on the surface, but within the glass.
Only one race in Dimension World could craft such wonders.
Gnome gem-magic engraving.
If dwarves excelled in smithing, gnomes mastered infusing mana into jewels via unique engraving.
With gnome gem-magic, one could craft true mana stones surpassing attribute stones……
Unfortunately, the gnomes' whereabouts were unknown. Unlike dwarves occasionally glimpsed in cities, they—along with elves—were fantasy races, vanished for ages.
Well, gnome gem-magic is perfect for new content. It'll likely emerge with new races in future updates……
If I could harness their tech first, it would reshape future wars.
But finding their kingdom myself was near impossible now.
I've conquered the continent in dreams countless times, yet never once found the gnome realm.
Click-
I drew the Compass of the Boundary of the Dead from my inventory.
Whirrr……
The needle spun uselessly, still broken.
Unto said repairing it meant seeking the gnome kingdom quickest. NPCs' words always encode world lore—they never speak idly. So it must exist.
“……”
Compass of the Boundary of the Dead
A compass said to have been crafted by the Iron Mine ????.
Said to point toward the location of ????.
I reread the description.
The second question mark's exact meaning is unclear, but it likely refers to the compass's descriptor: the Boundary of the Dead.
The dead meant the deceased, so the Boundary of the Dead was where they lingered.
A few places came to mind: the infamous undead haven Mist Realm, or Forgotten Castle built by necromancer Hastol after expulsion from the magic towers.
But those are mere undead lairs, not embodying a true 'boundary.'
To unravel the compass's secrets, I needed the one called the Iron Mine.
Boundary of the Dead and Iron Mine……
That's why I'd come here. In my memories, only Sandorim Forest fit both terms.
Perhaps I'd uncover not just the second clue to Chil-ya, but a fix for this broken compass too.
The dwarf king and blacksmith once dismissed as an eccentric—before the four Arcanists rose.
No one on the continent was closer to iron than him.
Tang-! Tang-! Claaang-!!
The hammering stopped. Amid the graveyard of scattered weapons, a man stood before the glowing forge, slowly turning to me.
“No one's sought this place since those idiots 200 years ago…… Who the hell are you? Breaking through this forest maze as a greenhorn?”
Short as a stump—barely reaching my shoulder—yet his hammer-wielding arm was twice my girth. The dwarf pushed up his protective visor and spoke.
Tur Mah.
I recalled his name, a faint smile slipping out unbidden.
200 years……? How old is that dwarf? Even for a near-human with long life, that's not dragon territory—centuries?
“Not wrong. He's the mentor to those four Arcanists who led the ancient dwarf kingdom 200 years ago.”
Incredible…… Is he a spirit like me?
“Doubt it. I sense life's aura. He's undeniably alive.”
I gazed at Tur Mah, voice low.
“At least within Sandorim Forest.”
Hmm……?
“You asked who I am. No idea how you got here, but count yourself lucky. You didn't run into the outer golems—or you'd be bones.”
He boasted with evident pride.
“You mean the colossal golem-god outside? Tur Mah.”
What? There's no such—
Black Eye stared, but swallowed his words as I shook my head.
“Hm? You know my name, boy?”
His face twisted in suspicion.
“Of course. And that you crafted that mighty golem-god.”
“Mighty golem-god? Kahaha! You've got an eye!”
Tur Mah bellowed a laugh.
“It's famous continent-wide. The dwarf king who birthed a creation rivaling the gods.”
“Hmph, same drivel as my fool pupils. I didn't build the golem-god to defy the gods—but to honor them.”
He snorted derisively.
Yet a bitterness shadowed his face.
Everyone knows the dwarf kingdoms fell for angering the gods with golems. How's this old coot clueless?
Don't tell me……
I nodded at Black Eye's flickering gaze.
Trapped in a broken hourglass.
“Exactly.”
Trapped in a broken hourglass meant one whose time had stopped. Alive only in a specific place.
Whether that truly counted as living…… no one knew.
Whatever the reason, he's stuck in the past 200 years ago. Forgetting time's passage…… A vicious curse?
Punishment for reaching the divine realm.
Hmm……
“Tur Mah.”
I lifted my head slowly.
No one on the continent was closer to the dead than him.
“I've come with a commission.”
With casual indifference, I drew Tesaro's sword—its blade chipped—and showed it to him.
“You dare commission me? This ain't some repair shop. Take that junk elsewhere.”
Tur Mah glanced at the sword and waved dismissively.
Hah…… What a……
A Heroic-grade weapon, yet he shrugged it off. Black Eye let out a hollow chuckle, pride faintly stung.
“No. The opposite.”
“……What?”
I met Tur Mah's eyes.
“Destroy this sword for me.”