The tribes of the Silver Mountain are known for their worship of the Frozen Giant. A practice that the tribes often partake in is the 'Seed Consumption' ritual, which involves the Frozen Giant and/or its brethren mating with one of the warriors to create a half-giant hybrid with great power. This ritual usually leads to the human dying during the mating process, but the ones that manage to successfully conceive a child result in a markedly powerful hybrid boasting the natural strength and size of giants but the sentience of a human. Half-giants are sought after by kingdoms and are a target to be abducted, as early training can make them into one of a kingdom's finest soldiers.

~ The Legend of the Silver Mountain by Nettle Carnant

Elric and Christopher departed a day earlier than the adventuring duo did, leaving the Androids and Scrap Bots as the only lines of defense in the case of an emergency. Thanks to their improved resources and cold iron mines, they assessed that it would be more than enough to withstand any ambushes while their leader was away. Elric personally made sure that the Androids were well-equipped before leaving.

Android 01 and Android 02 were the ones in charge of giving the adventurers their farewells. A few Scrap Bots and foot soldiers, including a few cold iron variants, were present. They watched as Damien barked out orders to Chester as he tried to power the wheels on their modified instant cube.

"Oh, so I press this?" The illusionist moved from the inside, clicking the button on a newly installed lever within the interior of the cube. The wheels began to turn, moving at a steady pace slightly faster than a brisk jog. Damien shouted at him to stop the machine, which he did so by double-clicking the lever and pulling it back. He poked his head out, noticing that the instant cube had moved by several meters.

"Huh. I didn't even feel it moving from the inside." Chester said, wondering if it was the same thing preventing any outside interference when Damien kept it in his pocket. The lever, which was small and installed onto the wall furthest from the door, was made of metal and padded leather. The illusionist couldn't wrap his head around how the cyborg connected something from inside the cube to the exterior.

"You did not. Leave any of. Your belongings here?" Android 02 said, making a question mark for a face. Damien shook his head. The bulky machine seemed to have slimmed down for this occasion, shedding his usually bulky frame for a streamlined one that could walk on all fours comfortably. Regardless, it was still massive and looked closer to a giant mechanical quadruped.

Maxwell, Damien's loyal shadow servant, circled between its legs before returning to the vampire noble. The boy picked up his bag and placed the instruction manual that Elric had left inside.

"Really, Android 01 and 02, thank you for everything." He said sincerely. Damien looked a lot more mature compared to when they first met. The robots didn't know if it was due to his massive growth or the stress of the adventure getting to him.

The feminine automaton removed her hands from her hips and shook the boy's outstretched ones. "You are always welcome. In any case, bring some souvenirs from your travels. We would like to learn more about the surface world."

"It's a promise," Damien replied, hopping on the instant cube. He signaled for Chester to activate the wheels and they slowly made their way across the horizon. "See you all! Thanks for having us!"

Even the foot soldiers were waving, to which the illusionist gladly returned. He had built a rapport with the lower ranks of the army. Even a couple of the Scrap Bots waved their saw-blades as a form of farewell, albeit a threatening one. The two androids watched as the instant cube made it past the horizon, before turning back and attending to their new kingdom.

The trip was much shorter than the one from Elway to Stillwater. With the constant pace and minimal energy cost, they chugged along placidly through the flat terrains. That wasn't to say the ride was completely smooth. Due to the limitation of the vehicle, it could only move in a straight line and they had to readjust to stay on the course every once in a while.

Chester rode on top of the cube, playing with his illusions, using sound and sight to push his powers to the limit. The summer heat was getting to him, and he could see that the time under the sun had tanned his skin lightly. The sound of footsteps alerted him and he raised his head only to spot a pack of goblins headed their way. The green, hook-nosed menaces with razor-sharp teeth inspired no fear in him. Nonetheless, he slid over and knocked on the door to signal Damien that there were intruders.

Almost immediately the instant cube lurched and Damien got out with only his sword in hand. His faithful canine companion leaped out of the vehicle and made a beeline for the small group of goblins. As soon as the two lunged for the monsters, they faded away into obscurity.

"Hell no! These are mine!"

The monsters turned out to be facing the opposite side. Chester had already splattered three of them into the floor with his hammer, but the shadowy warrior was quick enough to join in. After making quick work of the low-level monsters, the illusionist cursed as he only managed to kill six of them while the boy and his servant fought off a dozen. A powerful Shadow Smite engulfed half of the cluster and left them reeling. Darkness was an unusual element, absorbing the creatures' life essence as a wave of pure black pierced their skin. Some of the tiny creatures closest to the attack died on the spot, while the ones further looked heavily injured and exhausted.

"Watch where you use that, asshole!"

Chester flinched as the Shadow Smite narrowly missed his back. It wouldn't matter much unless it was a direct hit because of his tactical armor, but the idea of getting hit by an ally triggered him. He segregated the rest of the goblins by using his illusions to split them evenly, but Damien's dog ran amok in his pile and ripped the goblins to shreds.

"You-you are fuckin' insane! I need these levels more than you do!"

Damien pointedly ignored the man, patting Maxwell on the head. The illusionist stuck his tongue out while amongst the pile of goblin corpses. He wanted to secure more experience points to keep ahead of Damien, but it seemed that whatever motivation the boy had made him extra determined to get as strong as possible in the shortest amount of time. In the short time, he got his class, the shadowy canine had grown in size by a decent margin, now at the point where it could be considered the same level of difficulty as a Stonejaw ankheg. The speed and uncanny intellect made it capable of avoiding heavy damage that would usually dispel itself.

'Next time I won't even bother stopping the car. I'll just run and catch up with it...'

They took the chance to relax after moving the instant cube a dozen meters away from the battle. The illusionist did his daily stretches while the boy took a sip of blood from his canteen. Damien never asked for blood since the battle with the Ankheg Queen, but Chester could see that the boy was running out of blood in the pack he bought almost a month ago. While pushing down on his legs and spreading them as far as possible, Chester wondered about what he needed from Welton.

'Well, Elric gave me some pretty nice armor. At this point, I suppose some gauntlets would be nice. They're the only real piece I'm missing aside from a helmet." He muttered to himself, his legs were trembling slightly at a 150-degree angle, unable to fully do the splits. Chester was wondering what enchantments would be optimal for gauntlets and what was even possible. If he were ever in a situation fighting a human, he would be most worried about having his fingers cut off.

Although Damien proved that regeneration could take him from the brink of death, he didn't know whether that was exclusive to vampires or if they ever got lost limbs back. It seemed possible to regrow a new one, but would likely require a humongous amount of resources to get.

During his thinking, the two of them worked together to set up camp for the night. There were no words exchanged, as they both knew their respective duties and moved about with efficiency. Chester began lighting a fire with the flint and steel, while the vampire activated the barrier alarm. Maxwell sat obediently, watching the duo work quietly and efficiently. Within less than ten minutes they were done.

Chester ruffled into his pack and began chewing on the dried jerky. He took out a slice of cheese and ate while Damien finished his tasks. They hashed out a schedule for shifts, with the illusionist taking up guard during the day and while the cube was on the road, and the nocturnal vampire taking over for the night when they were stationary.

"Alright, I'm turning in for the night. See you."

He tried to pat Maxwell on the head as he passed by the campfire, but it turned its head away from him. Chester shut the sliding door, leaving Damien alone by the campfire with his canine servant. After several minutes of relaxation, the vampire began his training.

He returned to his foundations. Warming up with sword stances that he learned as a child. Damien went through them from simple to advanced, and he realized after so much time that he hadn't been maximizing the quality of his training. Instead of running through the motions, every move of his was earnest and impeccable. Under no circumstance did he allow his form to be short of anything but perfect. After thirty minutes of warmups, he equipped his Juggernaut Armor. It was hefty and forced him to adjust his movements slightly.

With the added orichalcum plating, there was a noticeable drop in speed. Damien was forced to exaggerate his movements while wearing it, making him compensate for poor form and making the training even more difficult. Every single muscle was under tension, and it managed to fatigue the boy's impressive well of stamina. Despite this he continued and went at the speed he would in battle, reminding himself to maintain perfect form throughout. He didn't use his shield, leaving it resting by his bag and Shadow Servant. He was intent on honing his swordsmanship skills.

Advanced Swordsmanship Mastery has reached level 3.

Seeing the notification made the boy drop his arms, trembling lightly. Even though he didn't sweat or emit any body odor, he was incredibly warm and felt hot all over. Due to the warm summer climate and strenuous workouts, unclasping his armor made him emit a sigh of relief as the cool air hit his skin. He pressed the interlocking mechanism on the hip which prevented it from folding in on itself while he was wearing it and took them off gently. Damien appreciated the equipment and how intuitive it was in design.

Folding it neatly, he made sure to place the armor back in his bag and he crossed his legs further from the fire using Maxwell as a pillow. The shadowy canine was corporeal and unlike a regular animal, Maxwell was cold to the touch. Damien didn't mind, liking the sensation that spread through his body. He spent the time counting stars. It was a past-time that he hadn't gotten the chance to enjoy for a long time, either forgetting or simply never having the opportunity to do so.

"I used to do these with Braham, you know."

The dog didn't respond, but it did softly cover his face with its fluffy, wispy tail. The boy giggled, before returning to the quiet observation of the stars with his Shadow Servant. He felt a little more reassured, slightly more confident about his abilities. They were almost at Garbrandt. As soon as they finished getting their necessary equipment, they'd be prepared for the last leg of their journey. It made him a little wistful.

"Arber Fistpig...Peepaw did say to give him a visit. I wonder if anybody I know is stationed there."

Damien knew that Welton had some close relations with Wisperium. His great-grandfather had referenced his friendship with both the founder of the dwarven kingdom and the eccentric blacksmith on several occasions. Despite being surrounded by a long-lived race, he still couldn't wrap his head around the fact that his great-grandfather had seen the rise and fall of several kingdoms. The man's longevity was on a completely different magnitude from his kin who naturally had double the lifespan of an average human.

If possible, he wanted some adjustments done to the Juggernaut Armor along with his sword. He refused to complain about anything regarding the armor to Elric's face, sensing that the man wanted to give them something akin to a farewell gift. In no way did he want to offend the cyborg man who'd been nothing but good to them since they first met. But that didn't change the fact that the armor was top-heavy and slightly unbalanced. At his current stature and strength, it would undoubtedly have a negative effect on future battles.

Although he was an amazing artificer with a fresh outlook on armor, it couldn't defeat the sheer practicality of dwarven-crafted armor. Damien figured that having the dwarves take a look at the armor would let them combine the best of both worlds. The otherworldly and convenience of Elric's design combined with the dwarves' natural penchant for making artifacts would surely make the Juggernaut Armor a piece of revolutionary equipment.

He stared at his sword. The boy heavily debated on replacing the mithril sword entirely with cold iron, or having one that was an alloy. He wondered about sacrificing an enchantment slot for additional amplification of his dark powers. The thought of lining his armor with cold iron was intriguing, but one that he felt would be far too unpleasant. He distinctly recalled his father's weapon being forged from cold iron and just how chilly it was. Having it near his skin would be quite jarring, regardless of the benefits it provided.

While the boy finished his training, Chester was inside using his illusions to recreate television shows from memory. Although his face was blank, his mind was anything but. He worked overtime to recall the sounds, lines, characters, and their respective designs to make sure it was as accurate as possible. Although he did it as a form of entertainment, he was also using it to hone his strengths.

'If I can't beat Damien in a straight fight, then I just have to make it NOT straight! Wait, that sounded slightly gay...'

The brief lapse in concentration made the entire illusion dissolve, along with the second one of a cube dissipate in his hand. Chester sighed. He didn't enjoy the sheer difficulty that went into making a detailed illusion. Even by cutting corners and making the mirage as efficient as possible, it required so much concentration to maintain one, much less two. His increased INT did wonders but it was a matter of utilizing his potential to the limit.

Chester resumed the illusions, summoning two at once. At the moment he focused on maintaining a high-quality illusion and a simple second mirage that required less brainpower. It was a simple issue of finding the best way to spread his concentration between several factors at once. The illusionist could feel a breakthrough on the rise, seeing how his secondary illusion could now move and shift with a bit more ease than before.

Advanced Illusion Mastery has reached level 3

'Fucking finally! Can't believe it took so long.'

The rush of dopamine he got from getting the familiar blue box was incredible. Chester noticed that spamming his spells didn't result in faster levels. When he found ways to better apply the skill, or whenever he used it during the heat of battle was when it experienced the most growth. He was sad that the idea of spamming his skills wasn't as useful. It made skills like Darkness, Hypnotic Pattern, and Mana Blast hard to level up due to their simplicity. Simply put, there was no real way to improve it like Minor Illusion other than innovating battle strategies.

Deciding that was enough progress, he activated the Dream Spell. After half a minute he opened his eyes to a white expanse.

"Eh, I did a shit ton of work. I'll take a few hours to just relax."

Using his omnipotent Dream powers, he made himself a massive pool. It was nice and steamy, with a calming atmosphere surrounded by a lavish and modern design reminiscent of high-quality salons on Earth. His clothes faded away and he leaped in, soothing his imaginary muscles and letting the warmth wash over him. A sigh of pleasure exited his mouth, and he hummed quietly with music playing faintly in the background of his imagination.

"On second thought, I can just spend the night here. What am I missing...? Oh right, some sexy women!"

They reached Welton's Furnace by early noon. As they neared the dwarven city, they realized just how barren the lands were. It would make sense if agriculture was one of their main imports. Massive walls that were crafted with heart and passion stood strong, showing just how fortified the kingdom was.

Pictures and drawings didn't do the kingdom justice. Welton's Furnace was so grandiose that it made Chester grasp just how deep the hole was to make it look so small. Over the towering ramparts of the city, they could see a massive dome that continuously puffed out black smoke. It looked very industrial even from a distance.

'Elric would've loved this place. Maybe he should be all buddy-buddy with them too!'

After approaching the entrance they were stopped by two dwarven guards. Although they were a great deal shorter than the duo, they made up for it in sheer mass. Chester likened it to an old cartoon when a character would be compressed, making them wider after having an object dropped on their heads. Their dwarven equipment was ornamental and looked just as heavy as Damien's own.

"Halt! State your allegiances at once, travelers." The soldier on the right said. His eyes were sharp and his beard well-kept. The voice of dwarves was deeper on average, making the man's tone gruff and unfriendly.

Damien gave them a respectful nod. "I'm Damien Rose, the youngest blood of Lord Dracule of Wisperium. I'm here with..." He gave a subtle look at Chester, whom he was unsure of how he wanted to be introduced or not. The illusionist noticed this and decided that there'd be no harm in it, knowing that being referenced to by a different name was tedious and unnecessary.

"Chester Everheart. I'm his master."

The vampire gave him a sharp elbow. It nudged the man but didn't hurt him thanks to his tactical equipment. The guards turned to themselves and began to talk in a foreign language, one that Chester recognized but couldn't translate. As the son of a noble, the boy could understand their discussion with ease.

"Damien Rose? I don't think this is fake. See the emblem on his cloak?"

"We need to alert the magistrate. Get the captain!"

One of them hurried off and the remaining soldier coughed politely into his fist. The gruff and deep voice was now much more polite. "Pardon us, your majesty. We'll prepare the appropriate accommodations for you, please hold on a moment."

It didn't take long for a dwarven man in a simple tunic to come their way. His glasses shook lightly and threatened to come off his face at the frantic pace he was going. The way dwarves ran was quite comical and Chester bit his lip to hold back a giggle.

"Sorry for the delay, Prince Rose! We weren't expecting a visit. My name is Tony Copperpots. Please, come follow me!"

They were finally allowed entry and bore witness to the central hub of the armor and weapons industry. Although the demographic was dominated by vertically-challenged men, there were lots of humans, elves, and other races mixed in amongst the crowds. The temperature seemed to rise a few degrees as they entered the city. Further ahead they spotted a massive trench where the dome was located. It looked to be the hole where Elric once resided in was.

Tony ushered them through the crowds with a spring in his step, and the two followed closely behind. Clanging metal and the constant hum of machinery made it slightly difficult to hear anything. Many dwarves were working in broad daylight, watched by other people as their equipment was being made. Red-hot weapons were being refined and molded into their desired shape. It was full of passion and vigor, making Damien admire the work ethic of dwarvenkind. It explained why they garnered no attention during their battle with the ankhegs. Even the railgun fire would be drowned out had it occurred in the city, much less a dozen kilometers below the ground.

"Welcome to Welton's Furnace! Unfortunately, we're quite indisposed at the moment regarding our situation with the mines. We hope you understand any delays in our production, Prince Rose."