Edmund stood beside the furnace, watching as the flames began to stabilize. The air in the backyard was filled with smoke, charcoal, and the harsh smell of hot metal. Beside him, a middle-aged blacksmith examined the furnace with a mixture of curiosity and distrust.
His name was Bram, and over the past few days, he had been one of the few men capable of following Edmund's instructions without trying to modify every detail according to the city's customs.
The furnace they had built was not entirely new. Edmund had used one of the furnaces employed in Graymont's forges as a base, but he had modified the combustion chamber, the air intake system, and the arrangement of the materials. He had also reinforced the inner walls with a mixture of refractory clay, sand, and other components that he had managed to combine through alchemical magic.
It was not a perfect creation. The furnace took too long to reach the necessary temperature and consumed a considerable amount of charcoal. However, Edmund was not seeking perfection in his first attempt.
He was looking for an improvement that could be replicated.
"How much longer?" he asked.
Bram leaned forward to observe the interior through the inspection opening.
"It hasn't reached its peak yet, my lord. The heat is greater than that of our usual furnaces, but it takes time to concentrate. If we force it too much, the walls could crack."
Edmund nodded.
"Don't force it. I would rather lose a few hours than destroy the furnace during the first test."
The blacksmith gave him a strange look. In his experience, nobles usually demanded immediate results and left the workers to deal with the consequences. Edmund, on the other hand, seemed more concerned with understanding the process than with appearing authoritative.
The objective of the test was simple: to produce higher-quality iron than what was usually obtained in Graymont.
The ore extracted from the mines contained a considerable amount of impurities. Some could be removed during traditional smelting, but others, especially sulfur and phosphorus, remained in the metal in sufficient quantities to make it brittle or difficult to work with.
Edmund could not remove all the impurities with magic. Doing so on a large scale would consume too much time and energy, and it would not solve the problem of creating a stable industry. But he could use his knowledge to modify the process and make the furnace perform a much greater portion of the work.
And, of course, they had no thermometers capable of accurately measuring the temperature inside the furnace. Edmund had been forced to rely on a combination of observation, experience, and magic. He could perceive changes in the metal and in the structure of the furnace, but he could not turn that ability into a complete substitute for industrial instruments.
That was why the process remained slow.
"Are you sure it will work?" Bram asked.
"I'm not sure it will work the way I want it to," Edmund replied. "But I am sure that the current furnaces waste too much of the steam's potential heat."
Bram remained silent, somewhat doubtful about what his lord was saying. When his lord had arrived with the offer to improve one of his furnaces and purchase another, he had wanted to refuse, but his sales had been low that year, and his arguments with his wife over money had been increasing.
He had only accepted after his lord promised to compensate him if it failed. At first, when Edmund used magic and brought dozens of materials that joined his reliable furnace, Bram had feared that it would turn into a monster out of nowhere. But after several tests, he had confirmed that the furnace reached temperatures higher than any furnace he had ever seen before.
Edmund took a small piece of ore they had prepared for the test and held it between his fingers.
"The problem is not that our mines produce too little iron. The problem is that much of what we extract ends up becoming mediocre-quality metal. That limits what we can manufacture, increases losses, and forces blacksmiths to work harder for worse results."
"Graymont's iron has always been like that," Bram said. "Some batches turn out better than others, but we've become experts at making do with what we have."
His pride in the city's forging history seemed eager to defend it against his lord's comments.
"That is precisely what I want to change, Bram," Edmund interrupted. "I don't want my blacksmiths wasting time obtaining mediocre results. I want my forges to be efficient and productive."
The furnace flames suddenly rose. Bram took a step back, while Edmund observed the color of the fire and the movement of the air entering through the openings.
"Now," he murmured.
The blacksmith quickly approached and followed the instructions they had practiced during the previous tests. He adjusted the air intake, added fuel, and checked the position of the container where the metal accumulated.
The process continued for a long while.
There was no explosion or spectacular change. The furnace simply continued burning, consuming charcoal and slowly transforming the ore. The difference lay in the small details: the more stable temperature, the more efficient combustion, and the fact that the iron finally reached the point where it moved almost like a liquid into the mold.
Once they were certain that the iron had stopped flowing, Bram and his assistants extracted the first ingot.
It was smaller than Edmund would have liked, and its surface was covered in slag. However, after cleaning it and allowing it to cool, the blacksmith examined it carefully.
"It seems more uniform than what we normally produce," Bram said, studying the piece.
"Cut it."
The blacksmith took a tool and struck the ingot. After several blows, he managed to separate a section. He examined the inside, struck it again, and ran his thumb over the newly exposed surface.
His expression changed.
"It is the highest-quality iron we have produced in the last decade, perhaps comparable to the best batch the city has ever produced."
His face was a mixture of excitement and fear as he looked at the monstrosity his lord had built.
"Congratulations, Master Bram. We have healed the first hemorrhage in this place."
Bram examined the ingot with renewed interest.
"And can we produce it like this from now on?"
"We can try. But it will take time to modify all the furnaces. This furnace needs time to reach the proper temperature, and we are still learning how to maintain it. In addition, it consumes more charcoal and requires experienced blacksmiths to learn what the proper temperature is."
Edmund looked at the furnace.
It was not an immediate solution. Production would be slower at first, and the initial costs would be higher. But the result could completely change Graymont's industrial capacity.
Higher-quality iron meant stronger tools, more reliable weapons, more durable machinery parts, and, over time, structures that previously would have been impossible to manufacture in the territory.
"Bram," Edmund said, "I want you to prepare some pieces using the iron from this batch."
"What kind of pieces?"
"Small axles, simple gears, bolts, long nails, and some thin plates. I also want you to try making a test blade."
"A sword?"
"Not necessarily. A cutting tool will be enough. I just want pieces that demonstrate the efficiency of this iron and can be compared with what the others produce."
Bram nodded slowly, somewhat confused as to why anyone would want to do something like that.
"I can do it."
"And when you finish, gather the other blacksmiths of Graymont and, if possible, call your friends and relatives to the city square tomorrow."
The man and his assistants raised their heads from the iron, somewhat confused by what Edmund was asking.
"All of them?" one of Bram's assistants asked, without any honorifics due to his confusion.
"Those who want to come. Tell them what you saw and tell them that I have work for every blacksmith in the city," Edmund replied, ignoring the young man's lack of manners.
Bram struck his assistant and watched Edmund for a few seconds.
"My lord, are you going to order all of us to work with this new furnace?"
"Not yet. First, we must determine what works and what needs to be improved. Afterward, we will renovate more furnaces, organize the supply of charcoal and ore, and establish a more orderly production system."
Edmund looked toward the old buildings surrounding the courtyard.
"Until now, every blacksmith has worked like an island. Each one has his own tools, methods, and little secrets. That may be enough to make horseshoes or repair a sword, but not to build an industry."
Bram remained silent, still somewhat confused by what Edmund was saying.
"We need a proper factory," Edmund continued. "A place where the ore arrives, is processed, turned into ingots, and then sent to different workshops. I want the tasks to be separated, the workers to specialize, and production to be measurable."
"That sounds like something many people won't accept, my lord. This is our life's work, and many will earn less money. They are not only losing the customs they have followed their entire lives, but if this fails, they risk going bankrupt," Bram pointed out. Although he did not want to admit it in front of Edmund, he doubted whether he wanted to accept something like that.
"I know. But anyone who wishes to work with the new furnace will have to follow the rules. We will see whether they want to continue with their old customs while competing against higher-quality iron, or whether they prefer to secure the city's future."
Bram lowered his gaze to the ingot. The quality of the metal was difficult to ignore, and if what his lord said was true, then better furnaces would soon appear throughout the city, requiring barely the work of an experienced blacksmith to produce this quality.
It was then, for the first time, that Bram understood the fear ordinary people had of mages. He could not understand how Edmund had developed such an infernal furnace, and they would never be able to compete against it. Therefore, he would make sure that he at least gained the advantages of being the first to accept.