With the meal finished, Antares rose from the fire to prepare for the journey north.
Lord Velas, leaning heavily on his carved staff, let out a dramatic sigh and announced with great gravity that he simply could not leave the northern camp unguarded, volunteering to stay behind to "keep vigil over the men."
Everyone present Antares included—knew the truth: the mage lord simply despised the biting northern cold and wanted to retreat back to the warmth of his tent.
Antares couldn't even bring himself to blame the old man. Deep down, a quiet, weary part of the King wanted nothing more than to crawl under his own heavy fur blankets and sleep for a day.
But as the king, his work was far from done.
Before departing, Antares turned to Riya and ordered her to remain at the Northern camp.
As the sole medical antwoman and a candidate for Queenhood, placing her in unnecessary danger was out of the question.
The clay pits lay further north, nestled near the Silver Peak Mountain a big, snow-capped mountain.
The wild forests surrounding Silver Peak were notorious for aggressive beasts and predators that frequently hunted in that area, which was precisely why a detachment of Red Sons had been stationed at the site for the purpose of providing security.
"Stay within the camp, Riya," Antares commanded gently. "Keep the men healthy. When I return, we travel to the palace."
"As you wish, Your Majesty" Riya bowed, understanding the implicit care behind his words.
With the security orders locked in, Antares stepped into the open snow and ignited his aura.
A vibrant, violent red aura erupted around his broad frame, casting a warm crimson glow across the surrounding snowbank and driving back the freezing air.
Joined by Adam and General Yanrid, the three figures launched straight into the overcast sky, leaving a swirl of displaced frost in their wake.
Their wings were beating at a high speed, faster than the eye could see.
While a march on foot through the snow and rough terrain to Silver Peak would take a full day for standard people, their supersonic flight slashed the journey down to a mere few hours.
The ground blurred beneath them. The bleak, flat tundra of the Northern camp slowly gave way to denser, ancient evergreen forests and rising granite ridges. Silver Peak Mountain loomed ahead, its jagged, ice-crowned summit piercing the low cloud layer like a silver spearhead.
As they rounded the eastern flank of the mountain, the dense canopy opened up to reveal the mining encampment nestled in a wide, natural clearing surrounded by massive, ancient trees.
From above, the operation had a humble, rural appearance. It was an open-air digging site where hundreds of Antmen workers were extracting clay entirely by hand. Using simple tools like wooden and stone shovels, iron hoes, and sturdy digging sticks—the workers methodically scraped away topsoil to expose rich, shimmering veins of dense mana infused clay below.
Shallow pits crisscrossed the area, flanked by towering mounds of dark, extracted clay and narrow dirt footpaths. Lines of miners moved back and forth carrying heavy woven baskets loaded with raw earth toward thatched timber shelters where the clay was being washed, refined, and packed into transport crates.
Antares slowed his flight, hovering over the perimeter to take in the view.
"Lord Kael is quite meticulous with the arrangement of his camp," Antares noted, admiring the structured footpaths and clean separation of work zones.
"The Tharvok Clan knows how to handle such type of work, Sire," Yanrid agreed, his icy breath misting in the wind. "Lord Kael really doesn't want to disappoint you."
"Let's go greet our blacksmith," Antares said, angling his body downward.
The three landed with a soft, controlled thud near the edge of the central clearing, their boots settling into the damp, dirt-packed earth.
Standing near a large canvas work tent in the middle of the site was Lord Kael. The leader of the Tharvok Clan was a sight to behold. Despite the freezing mountain air blowing off Silver Peak, Kael was entirely bare-chested. His massive, muscular torso and heavy arms were completely caked in thick, drying gray clay, sweat, and dirt.
True to the unyielding spirit of the Tharvok, the blacksmith lord refused to sit idle while his men dug; he was down in the trenches, working shoulder-to-shoulder with the lowest miners.
Hearing the heavy impact of their landing, Kael wiped a thick streak of gray mud from his forehead with the back of his massive, calloused forearm and turned around.
"Your Majesty!" Kael roared, his booming voice echoing off the surrounding pine trees. A wide, genuine grin split his dirt-streaked face, revealing white teeth.
Kael instantly dropped to one knee, bowing his head toward his King. But before his knee could touch the mud, Antares stepped forward, catching the Tharvok leader by the shoulder and pulling him up into a heavy, warm embrace.
"Rise, Kael," Antares said warmly, laughing as he pulled back and wiped a speck of gray clay from his own white linen shirt. "You look more like a earth golem rather than a clan leader."
Kael let out a chest-heaving laugh, pounding his fist against his bare, clay-covered chest. "Ha! The earth doesn't care about titles, Your Majesty! It only yields to sweat and hard work! Besides, sitting in a warm tent while my boys dig with sticks and shovels makes my blood feel like stagnant water."
"Your dedication is the backbone of this empire, Lord Kael," Antares said, his dark eyes sweeping over the quiet, respectful miners who had paused their work to salute their King. "The work you are doing here will build the walls of our future."
"Then let me show you what we've bled for," Kael said, his smile sharpening with intense pride.
"I like your confidence Kael, show me your progress then." Antares nodded with a smile.
Kael wiped his hands on a rough cloth hanging from his belt and motioned for Antares, Adam, and Yanrid to follow him. He led them past the primary shallow digging pits, heading toward the shaded northern ridge of the clearing where the ground sloped sharply downward toward the roots of Silver Peak.
As they walked, the simple dirt footpaths gave way to heavily reinforced wooden ramps, and the scent of damp soil was replaced by a strange, sharp metallic hum that made the air vibrate faintly against Antares's skin.
Kael stopped at the edge of a massive, newly excavated trench that plunged deep into the mountain's bedrock.
Antares stepped to the edge and looked down into the pit, his dark eyes widening in genuine astonishment as he stared at the distance ahead.
"This is..." Antares breathed softly, his voice trailing off as his crimson aura flared in response to the vast, glowing anomaly uncovered beneath the earth.