For an entire day and night, Muriel had bled so much she wasn’t even sure if she could still sense her magical energy within herself. Though the dwarves’ healing magic had kept the vast amount of blood she’d lost at a survivable level, she had no idea how many cauldrons her blood had already filled.
The golden glow of Muriel’s eyes dimmed with each passing second as her blood continued to flow from the wound she had inflicted upon herself. She no longer felt pain from the wound—truth be told, she felt nothing at all throughout her body. Every second seemed to stretch into minutes or hours, dragging on painfully, slowly. Every moment, she longed to shift back into her small human form and stop it all, but the pride she held in keeping her word prevented her from fulfilling that desire. Yet, despite it all, Muriel could sense another presence in the room with her.
Before Muriel's head stood a woman adorned in a white toga trimmed with gold. Her face was obscured by a white hood, though long, sleek silky black hair slipped from beneath it, cascading gracefully. Upon her head rested a golden laurel crown, placed atop the hood, and behind her head shone a radiant halo, emitting light as if it were a thousand suns. Yet, rather than blinding Muriel, the light enveloped her in a comforting warmth, a serene happiness she couldn’t quite explain.
The enigmatic woman moved slowly toward Muriel, who lay upon a stone altar, and gently placed her hand on Muriel's nose. In that instant, Muriel felt a wave of warmth and ease wash over her. The sunlight-like glow brought forth an odd familiarity, reminding her of a time when it had once caused her inexplicable pain. Yet now, its presence was soothing, almost like an embrace.
Then the woman spoke, her voice soft yet imbued with an ancient authority.
"Muriel, thee brainsick lizard," she said, lightly stroking the tip of Muriel's nose. "Thee have no idea how worried thy father gets over thy antics."
"How many times now has thy stubborn resolve nearly been the end of thou? Forsooth, thou art a troublesome little lizard."
"Wake now, Demon Lord of Calamity," she continued, her tone carrying a mix of fondness and command. "Let your wounds vanish, and return to your most admirable mission, your journey far from complete, Muriel."
With the final touch on her snout from the mysterious woman, Muriel blacked out. However, she soon regained consciousness atop the stone platform. Her body felt unusually invigorated, and the wounds on her thigh had completely vanished. The dwarves surrounding her flinched in surprise as Muriel jolted awake. They had assumed she had passed out due to the massive blood loss, but now that she was awake, they felt a wave of relief wash over them.
Still, in her dragon form, Muriel glanced at her now-healed wounds and allowed a black liquid to seep from her body, enveloping her entirely. The massive dragon form faded away, leaving only the figure of a petite woman seated on the stone platform.
"How long was I out just now?" Muriel asked as she hopped down from the platform, turning to the nearest healer dwarf.
"You were unconscious for nearly half an hour. We were so worried, thinking you might’ve been at death’s door," the dwarf replied.
"Half an hour? … And did any of you see a woman dressed in white around here?"
"A woman in white? What are you talking about? The whole time in this bloodletting chamber, it’s been just us healers and you," the dwarf responded, confused. The other healers exchanged puzzled looks at Muriel’s question.
"Never mind. It’s nothing. I must’ve imagined it. You know how it is when someone’s near death... or something like that, right?" Muriel muttered before forcing a small chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. Despite her attempt, the dwarves couldn’t shake the oddity of her words.
"Anyway," Muriel continued, her tone becoming more serious, "thank you all for your hard work healing me like this. I must’ve lost enough blood to forge the two weapons we talked about, right?"
"That’s correct," the healer said with a smile. "We’ve collected plenty of your blood—enough to craft both weapons you requested."
"Great. In that case, let me undo the buff from my skill," Muriel allowed herself a small smile before snapping her fingers. Instantly her skill, [Dragon Lord’s Promise], was lifted. The dwarves, who had benefited from the abundant magical energy reserves, collapsed to the ground, overcome by sudden exhaustion. To Muriel, the sight was like watching logs topple over in unison, and she couldn’t help but find it amusing. However, mindful of dwarven pride, she quickly turned her face away to suppress her laughter
Not long after, a new group of dwarves, accompanied by Beldar and Lilith, entered the chamber. These dwarves were blacksmiths and artisans who would transform Muriel's blood into the dragon-blooded steel weapons she had requested. The first step was transporting the vast quantities of her blood to a forging room equipped with multiple furnaces designed to process the blood into metal. From there, the raw metal would be refined into steel.
Lilith watched as the dwarves worked tirelessly, pouring Muriel's molten blood into the smelting pots. Despite the high iron content in dragon blood, the extraction process yielded only small amounts of metal each time. Observing the painstakingly slow progress, Lilith couldn’t help but feel that this process would take an eternity. The thought prompted her to step forward.
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“I think I might be able to help with this part,” Lilith said, turning to Muriel, who stood beside her.
“Huh? You?” Muriel raised an eyebrow. “I thought Beldar told you that your turn to help wouldn’t come until after started hammering the steel into weapons?”
“I did hear that, but I believe my skill can speed things up even now,” Lilith replied, determination in her voice. “Skill activation, [Metal Manipulation],” she raised her hands and activated her skill.
At once, the iron within Muriel's blood began to coalesce, rising from the massive caldrons of her blood in liquid form. The molten metal gathered into a single, hovering mass above the pots. The dwarves quickly stepped back, giving Lilith space as they watched the extraordinary display. Concentrating with all her might, Lilith guided the molten metal toward its designated vat.
“Impressive, Lilith,” Muriel remarked, watching the young girl work. “Using a tier-five spell at your age? You truly have a gift.”
“Thank you, Lady Muri—"
Just as the molten metal hovered above the vat, it slipped from her control and dropped all at once. Most of it landed safely in the container, but a fifth of the liquid splashed onto the ground. In a heartbeat, the spilled molten metal reacted violently with the air, evaporating into dark, magical energy before dispersing entirely.
The cheering and chatter of the dwarves and Muriel came to an abrupt halt. The room fell silent—the silence so loud that one couldn’t even hear the sound of breathing. All eyes were on the scorched ground where the precious material had disappeared. Lilith stood frozen, her body stiff as a statue. Her lips trembled as she tried to form words.
“I… I just… I only…”
“I’M SORRY! I’M SORRY! I’M SORRY!”
But before anyone could respond, Lilith felt the faintest touch on her shoulder, as if someone had reached out to console her. Startled, she jerked away and bolted toward the site of her mistake. Dropping to her knees, she began frantically scrubbing the empty floor with her cloak, trying desperately to "clean up" her mess, even though nothing remained. Muriel watched her, letting out a long sigh. Despite the frustration brewing in the room, she couldn’t help but pity the young goat.
“I am not going to let any more blood out of myself today. Beldar, I want you to take the remaining iron and start preparing the two items I mentioned earlier. Even though we’ve lost quite a bit, there’s still enough to work with. As for the iron that’s been wasted, leave it be for now—just use what we have. I’ll help Lilith for a bit and join you later.”
Muriel glanced at Lilith before turning to Beldar and speaking in a tone so firm and commanding that it left no room for argument. Beldar looked at Lilith, who was frantically scrubbing the floor with her own cloak, his eyes filled with confusion. He couldn’t understand why she was doing such a thing when the iron from Muriel’s blood had already evaporated completely. Nor could he fathom why she was apologizing when what she had accomplished was equivalent to days of hard labor.
“If that’s what Lady Muriel wishes, let’s proceed with the next steps.”
Beldar gave orders to the other dwarves. The cauldron containing the molten iron was carried to the next room using magic, leaving Muriel and Lilith alone. Even though the cauldron had been taken away, Lilith continued scrubbing the floor uncontrollably. Muriel stood silently for a moment, carefully choosing her words, before approaching Lilith.
“Lilith, you—”
“I’m so sorry, my lady! It won’t happen again!” Lilith shouted, interrupting Muriel before she could finish speaking.
“Lilith. Lilith, listen to me, okay? Look at me. Look at me.”
She placed both hands on Lilith’s shoulders, trying to snap her out of it. Then she cupped Lilith’s face with her hands and gazed directly into her eyes. Staring into the dragon’s golden eyes, Lilith gradually began to regain her senses. Her body was drenched in sweat, and her hands, clutching her shirt, trembled lightly. But beyond that, the overwhelming fear of her mistake remained. All the emotions swirling inside her seemed to crush her, and tears began streaming down her face once more.
“Lady Muriel… Lady Muriel, I’m so sorry! I was wrong. Please don’t hurt me!” Lilith could no longer bear to meet Muriel’s gaze. She tried to turn away, but Muriel’s strong hands held her firmly in place.
“Shhh… shhh… I’m here. There’s no need to be afraid. No one is going to hurt you, child,” Muriel said softly. As Lilith struggled in her grasp, Muriel gently pulled her into a hug, lightly stroking the young girl’s back. Lilith, rather than resisting, clung tightly to Muriel in return, holding on as if her life depended on it.
“Breathe in… breathe out,” Muriel whispered.
She let Lilith hold her like that for nearly a minute. Muriel could feel the fear emanating from Lilith, a scent so strong that even she struggled to keep her instincts in check. But seeing Lilith in this state, Muriel couldn’t bring herself to do anything but help her. Throughout the embrace, Muriel said nothing further, waiting patiently. Finally, Lilith’s grip on her loosened, and the two of them locked eyes in silence.
Once again, Muriel broke the silence between them.
“What you did was speed up the process of making iron from my blood by days. It’s because of you that we can save so much time on forging those weapons. That’s not something you should feel ashamed of, Lilith.” Muriel carefully chose her words to encourage the girl before her.
“I’m sorry… If I hadn’t acted recklessly, so much iron wouldn’t have spilled on the ground. If I hadn’t done that…”
“If you hadn’t done that, we would’ve wasted days just to extract that much iron from the blood. But because of you, everything went so much faster. The iron that was lost is unfortunate, but that’s not something you should blame yourself for now.”
“Yes… I’m sorry…” Lilith slowly nodded at Muriel’s words, wiping her tears and face with her sleeve.
“No, no more apologies. You did amazing.”
Lilith spoke softly to herself, clutching her own hand as if to reassure herself. She turned to Muriel, who gently took her hand in hers. With a guiding touch, Muriel led the young girl out of the room and toward their next destination—the newly rebuilt forge. This forge had been constructed after Muriel’s first blood extraction over 500 years ago.
Now, Muriel and Lilith followed Beldar into the forge. The first thing that caught their eyes was the massive iron smelter embedded into the room’s wall. Nearby, a large iron hammer, mounted on a mechanical arm made of steel and wood, stood ready. Beldar and the other dwarves were already preparing Muriel’s blood for the smelter, awaiting her arrival.
“Lady Muriel, you’ve lost so much magical energy already. Why don’t you rest for a bit? We can take a short break,” Beldar suggested with concern, knowing that the next step depended solely on her.
“No need to worry, Beldar,” Muriel replied, waving a hand dismissively. “It’s just my fire—it’s nothing I can’t handle.”
She didn’t let on that she had no idea how much of her magical energy remained. Still, she believed she could manage something as simple as breathing fire periodically.
“Let’s get started.”