When Markus surfaced from the dark fissure, Bardin Ironfist and his remaining squad were hovering anxiously around the floating sled.
"Is it sealed?" Bardin asked, his heavy boot tapping against the basalt rock. "Those beasts... if another wave surges up—"
"The fracture is bound by a spatial lock," Markus said calmly, stepping alongside the hover-sled. "Nothing will cross that boundary unless I grant it passage. Your men are safe."
Bardin let out a booming laugh, slapping his gauntleted hand against his breastplate. "By the Great Anvil! A spatial master who handles Tier 5 beasts like pesky cave flies! Stranger, you've earned more than just our gratitude. Mount up—Karak-Vorn isn't far, and King Thorin will want to hear of this himself."
The journey took them three leagues deeper into the volcanic throat of the Karak-Vorn range. As they rounded the final obsidian ridge, the narrow canyon suddenly opened into an immense subterranean cavern that stretched as far as sensory perception could reach.
Carved directly into the heart of Mount Obsidian was the dwarven capital: The Citadel of Karak-Vorn.
Cascading rivers of white-hot liquid magma flowed down the cavern walls, guided into massive stone aqueducts that powered hundreds of towering, runic hydraulic hammers. The sound was a rhythmic, thunderous heartbeat echoing through the earth.
The outer gates of the city were forged from solid, runic-engraved mithril, manned by two dozen elite guards clad in full Tier 5 Obsidian Plate.
"Halt!" the lead gate captain shouted, raising a massive poleaxe as the sled approached. "State your cargo and business!"
"Bardin Ironfist of the 4th Deep Mining Cohort!" Bardin bellowed back, pulling off his helm. "We bring a full load of Star-Core Iron—and a honored guest who saved our lives from a Chrono-Phase swarm!"
The gate captain's eyes shifted from Bardin to Markus. Even beneath his simple hooded cloak, Markus radiated an aura of quiet, undisturbed power that made the captain's runic armor hum with warning vibrations.
With a heavy clang of shifting gears, the titan gates swung inward, granting them entrance into the Grand Vaults.
As they traversed the central thoroughfare, Markus observed the intricate spatial and architectural engineering of the Stone-Forge Clan. Unlike human cities built outward, Karak-Vorn was structured in concentric subterranean rings descending into the deep core.
"Most surface dwellers think we just swing hammers and drink ale," Bardin chuckled, proudly gesturing to the towering stone pillars engraved with complex Earth Law formulas. "But every inch of this rock is bound by ancient rune-crafting."
Markus nodded approvingly. "The rune integration is clean. It redistributes the mountain's weight dynamically using local gravitational vectors. Impressive work."
Bardin's beard twitched in surprise. "You understand Terran Rune Algebra? Bah! You really are full of surprises, lad."
Passing down through the Subterranean Vaults, Bardin escorted Markus past rows of solemn honor guards into the Hall of the First Ancestor.
At the far end of the immense hall, sitting upon a throne carved from a single piece of dark basalt, sat King Thorin Ironclad.
Thorin was broad-shouldered even for a dwarf, his long grey beard braided with gold links that chimed softly as he shifted. In his right hand rested Rune-Breaker, a massive Tier 6 war-hammer that crackled with condensed Earth and Fire Law.
"Commander Bardin," King Thorin's voice rolled like thunder across the hall. "You return two hours late, and you bring a hooded surface dweller into the Royal Chamber. Speak quickly."
Bardin immediately dropped to one knee. "Your Majesty! The 4th Cohort was ambushed at the lower fault line by eight Chrono-Phase Behemoths. Our shield line was breaking... when this man stepped in."
Bardin gestured toward Markus. "He slain all eight beasts in a single second, sealed the spatial fracture, and preserved the entire Star-Core Iron shipment without taking a single scratch."
The throne room fell deathly silent. King Thorin leaned forward, his glowing amber eyes locking onto Markus.
"A single second?" Thorin rumbled, narrowing his eyes. He raised his hand, causing the ambient Earth Law in the hall to spike violently as he tested Markus's pressure. "Who are you, stranger? No ordinary surface cultivator moves through time and space with such ease."
Markus stood unbothered by the heavy aura, his cloak barely fluttering. He casually lowered his hood, meeting the King's gaze with calm silver-blue eyes.
"I am Markus, Founder of the Eternity Guild," he replied evenly. "I didn't come to Karak-Vorn merely to save your miners, King Thorin. I came to offer an alliance between the Stone-Forge Clan and my realm."
**
The silence inside the obsidian throne room was heavy enough to crush standard iron.
At the flanks of the royal dais, a dozen dwarven elders and master runesmiths shifted uncomfortably, their amber eyes glaring at Markus with intense skepticism. A human youth walking into the deep halls of Karak-Vorn to propose a sovereign alliance was bold—bordering on absurd.
"An alliance?" King Thorin echoed, his voice grumbling like grinding fault lines. "The Stone-Forge Clan does not forge covenants with surface factions lightly, lad. What could a human academy possibly offer the lords of the underground that we cannot harvest from our own mountain roots?"
Markus smiled faintly. He didn't offer grand rhetoric or political promises. Instead, he simply reached into his stardust cloak and flicked his wrist.
Clack.
A pristine, midnight-blue ingot floated out of his spatial storage, coming to a gentle rest above the palm of his hand. It radiated a cold, starlight-speckled luminescence, causing the ambient gravitational field in the throne room to warp slightly around it.
The head elder of the forge council, an ancient dwarf with a silver beard dragging on the stone floor, froze mid-stride. He gasped, pulling a runic magnifying monocle over his eye as he stumbled forward, entirely forgetting royal etiquette.
"By the First Anvil..." the old runesmith stuttered, his hands shaking as he hovered his fingers inches from the ore. "This density... this spatial resonance... That's raw Void-Mithril! Pure, unrefined Grade 8 Primordial Ore!"
Murmurs erupted across the throne room like a sudden rockslide.
King Thorin gripped the armrests of his basalt throne so hard the stone cracked beneath his knuckles. "Void-Mithril hasn't been extracted in the western range for three centuries! The last known vein was swallowed by a spatial rift in the abyssal layers!"
"It wasn't swallowed," Markus corrected smoothly, letting the weightless ingot hover in place. "It was masked. The fissure where Bardin's miners were attacked holds an untouched, unmapped vein—over one hundred and fifty meters in length."
Markus looked Thorin dead in the eye.
"Your survey teams marked that zone as barren granite because your physical drills phase right through the stone due to spatial refraction. You couldn't detect it, and even if you had, your miners would have triggered a dimensional collapse trying to hack into it."
King Thorin leaned back slowly, his eyes calculating furiously behind his bushy brows. As a veteran monarch, he understood the tactical reality immediately. Void-Mithril was the ultimate foundational material for spatial rings, long-distance teleportation arrays, and sovereign-grade armaments.
"You sealed the fissure," Thorin said, his tone shifting from suspicion to deep, grave respect. "Which means only someone who commands Space Law can open and extract that seam without collapsing the mountain."
"Precisely," Markus replied. "Which brings us to my terms."
Markus held up two fingers, laying out the framework of the agreement:
Covenant TermEternity Guild ContributionStone-Forge Clan Obligation
01. Material Access Exclusive spatial stabilization & extraction of the Void-Mithril vein (50/50 split of raw output)
.Complete mining rights & security protection for the fissure perimeter.
02. Educational ExchangePermanent spatial anchor connecting Karak-Vorn directly to Floor Zero at the branch academy.
Dispatch 5 Master Runesmiths & Artisans to serve as guest professors for 1 year.
03. Trade RightsDirect access to high-tier primordial botanical catalysts & alchemical pills from the Elven Canopy.
Priority supply of Star-Core Iron and forge-metals at wholesale cost.
"You want my master smiths... to teach surface humans?" Thorin rumbled, stroking his heavy beard.
"I want your master smiths to teach my students how to integrate Earth and Fire runes into modern armaments," Markus refined calmly. "In exchange, your artisans will gain access to Floor Zero's spatial refinement chambers—where they can forge weapons using pure, uncorrupted Void-Mithril under stable spatial conditions."
The forge elders instantly crowded around King Thorin, whispering excitedly:
"Your Majesty! Access to a stable Void-Mithril forge environment is something our ancestors dreamed of!" "To work with Grade 8 ore again... we could forge legendary sovereign weapons for the clan!" "The spatial stabilization alone would save hundreds of miner lives every year in the lower shafts!"
Thorin held up his hand, silencing the elders. He stood up from his basalt throne, taking three heavy steps down the dais until he stood directly in front of Markus.
Despite standing a foot shorter than the young human, Thorin's presence was like a mountain. He extended a broad, stone-calloused hand, his knuckles scarred from centuries at the anvil.
"You speak straight, lad, and you bring real steel to the table," Thorin declared, his voice echoing through the grand hall. "The Stone-Forge Clan accepts the covenant! The Void-Mithril vein will be mined under joint authority, and five of our finest Master Artisans will accompany you back to your academy!"
Markus extended his own hand, gripping the dwarven king's calloused palm tightly.
THUMMM.
A subtle ripple of spatial and earth law erupted from their handclasp, locking the soul-bound contract into the fabric of the subterranean realm.
With the elven forest securing his botanical foundation and the dwarven kingdom anchoring his material and forge capabilities, the Eternity Guild was no longer just an academy—it was rapidly becoming an unstoppable, self-sustaining empire hidden in plain sight.