Into the Eternal Furnace?

"Furnace?"

"No, inside it." Tud was pointing at nothing other than the massive furnace. More precisely, he was indicating the interior of the enormous furnace that had been burning ceaselessly and meticulously maintained for who knows how long.

"You want me to go inside that?"

It was blazing at full force even now, its heat intense enough to melt virtually any rare ore. That was only natural, given the insane quality of the materials used to boost its firepower.

"Yeah. Got a problem with that?"

"Well... no, I guess not?"

Vulcan initially wore an expression like it was the most ridiculous suggestion he'd ever heard, but upon second thought, it wasn't impossible. After all, wasn't he the one who didn't have to worry about fire?

'That's right.'

The Legendary Craftsman's work apron he'd brought from the secret workshop. With its immunity to all fire damage, he could lounge inside an even fiercer inferno like it was a relaxing sauna.

It wouldn't matter even if it had been reinforced with Salamander King scales, Phoenix feathers, or a Crimson Jade Heart. This thing was probably tied to the Red Dragon somehow.

"Got it."

In the end, Vulcan neatly folded his clothes to one side, stripping down to nothing but the work apron draped over his naked body. He knew from past experience that if he wasn't careful, everything except his body, the apron, and his indestructible panties could hit zero durability and shatter.

'Hot as hell.'

Finally, in his naked-apron getup, Vulcan climbed up the side of the furnace and slipped inside through the ceiling vent. He took no damage, but he crouched low over the coke and such that were melting ores and filtering impurities amid the sweltering heat.

He had to clear these out to find anything. A shovel would be ideal, but any ordinary metal would melt into goo in here, so he had no choice but to dig with his bare hands.

Even Dragon Eye wasn't picking up anything yet, so he started blindly scooping with his hands while tossing a question at Tud.

"So, what's in here anyway?"

"Something this workshop doesn't have."

"Something this workshop doesn't have?"

Vulcan shot Tud a puzzled look at the sudden Zen-master riddle, but he racked his brain quickly. Something necessary for crafting? But didn't they already have all the essential tools?

"Then where about is it?"

"Beats me. Guess you'll have to dig around and see."

"What? You didn't hide it on purpose?"

"Uh, well... I just took it off and tossed it, and it ended up in here. Too lazy to fish it out, so I left it. It'll turn up somewhere if you look."

"...?"

Took it off and tossed it? And it just happened to land inside the furnace?

He had a pretty good idea what it was.

"Wait, the work gloves? But would they even survive without melting?"

Work gloves. Like the apron, they protected a smith's hands and kept hammers from slipping, but not every smith wore them. Some skipped them on purpose because they dulled tactile feedback.

Tud must've relied on gear power back when he was honing his skills.

"They won't have melted. This one's stronger in fire, actually."

"Hmm. Alright, I'll look."

With his slight concern alleviated, all that was left was to dig into the furnace. It might be caked in molten slag from whoever had passed through here before, so he carefully examined everything as he went, sparing no detail.

And soon enough, he found a pristine pair of gloves, perfectly intact.

"Whoa."

They were incredibly thin gloves. At a glance, you might not even notice they were being worn, but they boasted impressive defense and durability regardless of the material.

And they came with some intriguing special abilities to boot. The apron had its sub-space pocket and fire immunity, sure, but it didn't do anything active.

Flame manipulation and emission? Couldn't that double as an attack skill?

"A sealed item, huh... wait a sec?"

Not to mention the hidden option labeled 'unseal.' If ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠this was just the sealed state, what monstrous power would it unleash once freed? The condition probably wouldn't be easy, but if he could manage it, the potential was sky-high.

"No way this Ifrit is that Ifrit, right? Right?"

"Dunno what you're thinking, but yeah, the Fire Spirit King."

"...Is meeting the Fire Spirit King even possible?"

"If he didn't get himself erased mouthing off somewhere, sure. Loose-lipped for a spirit king. Might've happened—he took plenty of beatings from me."

"...".

Erasing the Fire Spirit King? Was that even feasible? Spirit mages at level 300 could barely aim for upper spirits, and level 400 was needed for top-tier contracts. It was unimaginable.

But since it was Tud saying it, Vulcan just accepted it. How insanely strong had he been in life? Dragons were supposed to transcend imagination, but were they all this nuts? Strong enough to beat up spirit kings?

Tud would no doubt launch into a monologue about his own greatness if asked, so Vulcan swallowed the question and climbed back out of the furnace.

Thankfully, the fire immunity covered his entire body, sparing him a full-body shave by flame.

"So how do you even use these? Aside from ramping up the heat, when would I manipulate flames?"

"Idiot. Forgot the importance of temperature control already?"

"Ah...".

Vulcan had looked a bit skeptical even as he slipped them on, but it clicked fast. In forging, maintaining precise temperatures and striking at the right heat was crucial.

Vulcan had outpaced other smiths early on precisely because Dragon Eye let him gauge fire and metal temps accurately.

'There might be more ways to leverage this...'

If he ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠could truly control flames at will, he could fine-tune temperatures for finishing touches, and maybe even regulate ambient heat and humidity for optimal crafting conditions. But that was for later experimentation.

Too much to set up and master right away, so Vulcan nodded and shoved his hand into the furnace, getting a feel for flame control.

The moment he got comfortable, he dove into anvil production.

"You made this?"

"Yes."

"Excellent choice. Please wait a moment while I inspect it and have it delivered."

With the anvil complete, Vulcan took a quick look around the workshop before heading out. The guards waiting outside snapped to attention, escorting him to a lounge area while checking the interior for anything missing—but of course, nothing would turn up.

That glove had been buried deep in the furnace, unknown ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠even to them. Sure, there were minor changes inside, but they'd chalk it up to normal forging residue and overlook it.

Thanks to that, Vulcan exited without issue.

Unimpressive options ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠for a Unique item at first glance. But any artisan knew the profound impact those simple effects had in actual work, so even the entrance guards eyed Vulcan with envy—and Vulcan was plenty satisfied himself.

'I've got the recipes for the rest in my head, so with enough time and materials, I can make them.'

He itched to hole up in a forge and crank out the remaining tools right away. But some required rare ingredients, so completing recipes with substitutes or acquisitions would take time.

Finishing the Anvil of Integrity alone was a huge win. Its focus on stability and efficiency made the crafting method and completion quality more vital than the materials.

"What to do next...?"

From the monthly artisan contest to reward time. Things had gone smoother than expected, leaving him some spare time.

If it had been tight, he'd log off to handle real-life stuff quick, but with margin, Vulcan pondered.

Oh yeah, Gremori had said to come back. But it wasn't urgent, so he could take it slow. Their talks might drag anyway, and rushing mid-convo would suck, so he decided to postpone.

"So much to do, it's overwhelming."

Even without meeting him, Smell brimmed with things to see, learn, and enjoy. It wasn't called the artisans' city for nothing.

Smiths flocked here, but also architects, alchemists, enchanters, and more. Vulcan was solid as a blacksmith now, but other fields overflowed with inspiration and items to spark ideas.

"Shopping, maybe?"

"You? Since when?"

Tud reacted with surprise to Vulcan's decision after mulling it over. Vulcan, the cheapskate who flinched at every purchase unless essential?

Suddenly declaring shopping? Tud eyed him suspiciously.

"Ahem. I spend when I need to."

"When? Never seen it."

"...Haven't had the chance yet. Anyway! This time, I'll spend big—if there's something worth it."

Vulcan looked sheepish but soon steeled his expression, resolve to splurge for real etched on his face.

"Worth it how?"

"Hidden options or something...?"

"Pfft. Knew it."

Tud tsked and thwacked Vulcan's head. Dragon Eye pearl-hunting in the mud. That was Vulcan's true shopping plan: snag undervalued junk, uncover secrets, flip for profit! Use some himself, sure, but ultimately make bank.

And Smell was buried in such artisan pranks-turned-treasures.

Vulcan planned to invest everything minus essentials for immediate needs. With Dragon Eye, he'd flip them for more, guaranteed.

Vulcan's eyes gleamed as he dove into the artisan stalls scattered across Smell.